Calvin Wilson Mateer, forty-five years a missionary in Shantung, China

It is a privilege to comply with the request of Dr. Fisher to write a brief introduction to his biography of the late Calvin W. Mateer, D.D., LL.D. I knew Dr. Mateer intimately, corresponded with him for thirteen years and visited him in China. He was one of the makers of the new China, and his life forms a part of the history of Christian missions which no student of that subject can afford to overlook. He sailed from New York in 1863, at the age of twenty-eight, with his young wife and Rev. and Mrs. Hunter Corbett, the journey to China occupying six months in a slow and wretchedly uncomfortable sailing vessel. It is difficult now to realize that so recently as 1863 a voyage to the far East was so formidable an undertaking. Indeed, the hardships of that voyage were so great that the health of some members of the party was seriously impaired.

Difficulties did not end when the young missionaries arrived at their destination. The people were not friendly; the conveniences of life were few; the loneliness and isolation were exceedingly trying; but the young missionaries were undaunted and pushed their work with splendid courage and faith. Mr. Corbett soon became a leader in evangelistic[10] work, but Dr. Mateer, while deeply interested in evangelistic work and helping greatly in it, felt chiefly drawn toward educational work. In 1864, one year after his arrival, he and his equally gifted and devoted wife managed to gather six students. There were neither text-books, buildings, nor assistants; but with a faith as strong as it was sagacious Dr. and Mrs. Mateer set themselves to the task of building up a college. One by one buildings were secured, poor and humble indeed, but sufficing for a start. The missionary made his own text-books and manufactured much of the apparatus with his own hands. He speedily proved himself an educator and administrator of exceptional ability. Increasing numbers of young Chinese gathered about him. The college grew. From the beginning, Mr. Mateer insisted that it should give its training in the Chinese language, that the instruction should be of the most thorough kind, and that it should be pervaded throughout by the Christian spirit. When, after thirty-five years of unremitting toil, advancing years compelled him to lay down the burden of the presidency, he had the satisfaction of seeing the college recognized as one of the very best colleges in all Asia. It continues under his successors in larger form at Wei Hsien, where it now forms the Arts College of the Shantung Christian University.

Dr. Mateer was famous not only as an educator, but as an author and translator. After his retirement from the college he devoted himself almost[11] wholly to literary work, save for one year, when a vacancy in the presidency of the college again devolved its cares temporarily upon him. His knowledge of the Chinese language was extraordinary. He prepared many text-books and other volumes in Chinese, writing some himself and translating others. The last years of his life were spent as chairman of a committee for the revision of the translation of the Bible into Chinese, a labor to which he gave himself with loving zeal.

Dr. Mateer was a man of unusual force of character; an educator, a scholar and an executive of high capacity. Hanover College, of which Dr. D. W. Fisher was then president, early recognized his ability and success by bestowing upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Divinity, and in 1903 his alma mater added the degree of Doctor of Laws. We mourn that the work no longer has the benefit of his counsel; but he builded so well that the results of his labors will long endure, and his name will always have a prominent place in the history of missionary work in the Chinese empire.

Dr. Fisher has done a great service to the cause of missions and to the whole church in writing the biography of such a man. A college classmate and lifelong friend of Dr. Mateer, and himself a scholar and educator of high rank, he has written with keen insight, with full comprehension of his subject, and with admirable clearness and power. I bespeak for this volume and for the great work in[12] China to which Dr. Mateer consecrated his life the deep and sympathetic interest of all who may read this book.

When I was asked to become the biographer of Dr. Mateer, I had planned to do other literary work, and had made some preparation for it; but I at once put that aside and entered on the writing of this book. I did this for several reasons. Though Dr. Mateer and I had never been very intimate friends, yet, beginning with our college and seminary days, and on to the close of his life, we had always been very good friends. I had occasionally corresponded with him, and, being in hearty sympathy with the cause of foreign missions, I had kept myself so well informed as to his achievements that I had unusual pleasure in officially conferring on him the first of the distinctions by which his name came to be so well adorned. As his college classmate, I had joined with the other survivors in recognizing him as the one of our number whom we most delighted to honor. When I laid down my office of college president, he promptly wrote me, and suggested that I occupy my leisure by a visit to China, and that I use my tongue and pen to aid the cause of the evangelization of that great people. Only a few months before his death he sent me extended directions for such a visit. When—wholly unexpectedly—the invitation came to me to prepare his biography, what could I do but respond favorably?

It has been my sole object in this book to reveal[14] to the reader Dr. Mateer, the man, the Christian, the missionary, both his inner and his outer life, just as it was. In doing this I have very often availed myself of his own words. Going beyond these, I have striven neither to keep back nor to exaggerate anything that deserves a place in this record. All the while the preparation of this book has been going forward in my hands my appreciation of the magnitude of the man and of his work has been increasing. Great is the story of his career. If this does not appear so to any reader who has the mind and the heart to appreciate it, then the fault is mine. It, in that case, is in the telling, and not in the matter of the book, that the defect lies.

So many relatives and acquaintances of Dr. Mateer have contributed valuable material, on which I have drawn freely, that I dare not try to mention them here by name. It is due, however, to Mrs. J. M. Kirkwood to acknowledge that much of the chapter on “The Old Home” is based on a monograph she prepared in advance of the writing of this biography. It is due also to Mrs. Ada H. Mateer to acknowledge the very extensive and varied assistance which she has rendered in the writing of this book: first, by putting the material already on hand into such shape that the biographer’s labors have been immensely lightened, and later, by furnishing with her own pen much additional information, and by her wise, practical suggestions.

Calvin Wilson Mateer, of whose life and work this book is to tell, was born in Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, near Shiremanstown, a few miles west of Harrisburg, on January 9, 1836.

This Cumberland valley, in which he first saw the light, is one of the fairest regions in all our country. Beginning at the great, broad Susquehanna, almost in sight of his birthplace, it stretches far away, a little to the southwest, on past Chambersburg, and across the state line, and by way of Hagerstown, to its other boundary, drawn by a second and equally majestic stream, the historic Potomac. Physically considered, the splendid Shenandoah valley, still beyond in Virginia, is a further extension of the same depression. It is throughout a most attractive panorama of gently rolling slopes and vales, of fertile and highly cultivated farms, of great springs of purest water and of purling brooks, of little parks of trees[16] spared by the woodman’s ax, of comfortable and tasteful rural homes, of prosperous towns and villages where church spires and school buildings and the conveniences of modern civilization bear witness to the high character of the people,—all of this usually set like a picture in a framework of the blue and not very rugged, or very high, wooded mountains between which, in their more or less broken ranges, the entire valley lies.

True, it was winter when this infant first looked out on that world about him, but it was only waiting for spring to take off its swaddling of white, and to clothe it with many-hued garments. Twenty-eight years afterward, almost to the very day, he, cast ashore on the coast of China, was struggling over the roadless and snow covered and, to him, wholly unknown ground toward the place near which he was to do the work of his life, and where his body rests in the grave. When he died, in his seventy-third year, the spiritual spring for which he had prayed and longed and labored had not yet fully come, but there were many indications of its not distant approach.

John Mateer, the father of Calvin, was born in this beautiful Cumberland valley, on a farm which was a part of a large tract of land entered by the Mateers as first settlers, out of whose hands, however, it had almost entirely passed at the date when this biography begins. The mother of Calvin was born in the neighboring county of York. Her maiden name was[17] Mary Nelson Diven. Both father and mother were of that Scotch-Irish descent to which especially Pennsylvania and Virginia are indebted for so many of their best people; and they both had behind them a long line of sturdy, honorable and God-fearing ancestors.

At the time of Calvin’s birth his parents were living in a frame house which is still standing; and though, with the passing of years, it has much deteriorated, it gives evidence that it was a comfortable though modest home for the little family.

One of the employments of his father while resident there was the running of a water mill for hulling clover seed; and Calvin tells somewhere of a recollection that he used to wish when a very little boy that he were tall enough to reach a lever by which he could turn on more water to make the mill go faster,—a childish anticipation of his remarkable mechanical ability and versatility in maturer years.

Calvin was the oldest of seven children—five brothers and two sisters; in the order of age, Calvin Wilson, Jennie, William Diven, John Lowrie, Robert McCheyne, Horace Nelson and Lillian, of whom Jennie, William, Robert and Horace are still living. Of these seven children, Calvin and Robert became ministers of the gospel in the Presbyterian Church, and missionaries in Shantung, China; John for five years had charge of the Presbyterian Mission Press at Shanghai, and later of the Congregational Press at Peking, where he died; Lillian taught in the Girls’[18] School at Tengchow, and, after her marriage to Rev. William S. Walker, of the Southern Baptist Mission, in the school at Shanghai, until the failing health of her husband compelled her to return to the United States; William for a good while was strongly disposed to offer himself for the foreign missionary service, and reluctantly acting on advice, turned from it to business. Jennie married an exceptionally promising young Presbyterian minister, and both offered themselves to the foreign work and were under appointment to go to China when health considerations compelled them to remain in their homeland. Some years after his death she married a college professor of fine ability. Horace is a professor in the University of Wooster, and a practicing physician.

In view of this very condensed account of the remarkable life and work of the children in this household, one may well crave to know more about the parents, and about the home life in the atmosphere of which they were nurtured. Their father and mother both had the elementary education which could be furnished in their youth by the rural schools during the brief terms for which they were held each year. In addition, the mother attended a select school in Harrisburg for a time. Both father and mother built well on this early foundation, forming the habit of wise, careful reading. Both were professing Christians when they were married, and in infancy Calvin was baptized in the old Silver Spring Church, near which they resided. Later the father[19] became a ruling elder in the Presbyterian church to which they had removed their membership. In this capacity he was highly esteemed, his pastor relying especially on his just, discerning judgment. He had a beautiful tenor voice and a line musical sense, and he led the choir for a number of years. Few laymen in the church at large were better informed as to its doctrines and history, and few were more familiar with the Bible. There was in the church a library from which books were regularly brought home; religious papers were taken and read by the whole family, and thus all were acquainted with the current news of the churches, and with the progress of the gospel in the world.

In the conduct of his farm Mr. Mateer was thrifty, industrious and economical. His land did not yield very bountifully, but all of its products were so well husbanded that notwithstanding the size of his family he yet accumulated considerable property. Though somewhat reluctant at first to have his boys one after another leave him, thus depriving him of their help on the farm, he aided each to the extent of his ability, and as they successively fitted themselves for larger lives he rejoiced in their achievements.

Mr. Mateer died at Monmouth, Illinois, in 1875. When the tidings reached Calvin out in China, he wrote home to his mother a beautiful letter, in which among other things he said: “Father’s death was eminently characteristic of his life—modest, quiet and self-suppressed. He died the death of the[20] righteous and has gone to a righteous man’s reward. The message he sent John and me was not necessary; that he should ‘die trusting in Jesus’ was not news to us, for we knew how he had lived.”

By reading the records that have been at my command I have gotten the conviction that the mother was the stronger character, or at least that she more deeply impressed herself on the children. When Calvin made his last visit to this country, he was asked whose influence had been most potent in his life, and he at once replied, “Mother’s.” In his personal appearance he strongly resembled her. If one could have wished for any change in his character, it might have been that he should have had in it just a little bit more of the ideality of his father, and just a little bit less of the intense realism of his mother. Some of his mother’s most evident characteristics were in a measure traceable as an inheritance from her father, William Diven; for example, the place to which she assigned education among the values of life. He was a man of considerable literary attainments, for his day, and for one residing out in the country; so that when in later years he came to make his home with the Mateers he brought with him a collection of standard books, thus furnishing additional and substantial reading for the family. Even Shakspere and Burns were among the authors, though they were not placed where the children could have access to them, and were made familiar to them only by the grandfather’s quotation of choice passages.[21] When his daughter was a little girl, so intense was his desire that she should have as good an education as practicable, that if the weather was too inclement for her to walk to the schoolhouse he used to carry her on his back. It was her lifelong regret that her education was so defective; and it is said that after she was seventy years of age, once she dreamed that she was sent to school at Mount Holyoke, and she awoke in tears to find that she was white-haired, and that it was only a dream. Although it involved the sacrifice of her own strength and ease, she never faltered in her determination that her children should have the educational advantages to which she had aspired, but never attained; and in what they reached in this direction she had a rich satisfaction. Toward every other object which she conceived to be good and true, and to be within the scope of her life, she set herself with like persistence, and strength, and willingness for self-sacrifice. Her piety was deep, thorough and all-controlling; but with her it was a principle rather than a sentiment. Its chief aim was the promotion of the glory of the infinitely holy God, though as she neared the visible presence of her Saviour, this softened somewhat into a conscious love and faith toward him. She survived her husband twenty-one years, and died at the advanced age of seventy-nine. When the tidings of this came to her children in China, their chief lament was, “How we shall miss her prayers!”

When Calvin was about five years old, his parents[22] bought a farm twelve miles north of Gettysburg, near what is now York Springs, in Adams County. It is some twenty miles from the place of his birth, and beyond the limits of the Cumberland valley. Even now it is a comparatively out-of-the-way spot, reached only by a long drive from the nearest railway station; then it was so secluded that the Mateers called the house into which they removed the “Hermitage.” Here the family continued to reside until about the time of Calvin’s graduation from college. Then a second and much longer move was made, to Mercer County, in western Pennsylvania. Still later, a third migration brought them to Illinois. It is to the home in Adams County that Calvin refers in the line quoted at the head of this chapter, as the place where “were all the fond recollections and associations” of his youth.

The farm was not very large, and the soil was only moderately productive, notwithstanding the labor and skill that the Mateers put upon it. In picking off the broken slate stones which were turned up thick by the plow, the children by hard experience were trained in patient industry as to small details. At least the two elder frequently beguiled the tedium of this task “by reciting portions of the Westminster Catechism and long passages of Scripture.” Another really tedious occupation, which, however, was converted into a sort of late autumn feast of ingathering, was shared by the whole family, but was especially appreciated by the children. This was the nut[23] harvest of the “shellbark” hickory trees of the forest. As many as fifty or more bushels were gathered in a season; the sale of these afforded a handsome supplement to the income of the household. Along the side of the farm flows a beautiful stream, still bearing its Indian name of Bermudgeon, and in front of the house is a smaller creek; and in these Calvin fished and set traps for the muskrats, and experimented with little waterwheels, and learned to swim. Up on an elevation still stand the old house and barn, both constructed of the red brick once so largely used in the eastern section of Pennsylvania. Both of these are still in use. Though showing signs of age and lack of care, they are witnesses that for those days the Mateers were quite up to the better standard of living customary among their neighbors. “This growing family,” says Mrs. Kirkwood (Jennie), “was a hive of industry, making most of the implements used both indoors and out, and accomplishing many tasks long since relegated to the factory and the shop. Necessity was with them the mother not only of invention, but of execution as well. All were up early in the morning eating breakfast by candlelight even in summer, and ready before the sun had risen for a day’s work that continued long after twilight had fallen.” In the barn they not only housed their horses and cattle and the field products, but also manufactured most of the implements for their agricultural work. Here Calvin first had his mechanical gifts called into exercise, sometimes on sleds and wagons and farm[24] tools, and sometimes on traps and other articles of youthful sport.

In this home family worship was held twice each day,—in the morning often before the day had fully dawned, and in the evening when the twilight was vanishing into night. In this service usually there were not only the reading of Scripture and the offering of prayer, but also the singing of praise, the fine musical voice of the father and his ability to lead in the tunes making this all the more effective. Of course, on the Sabbath the entire family, young and old, so far as practicable, attended services when held in the Presbyterian church not far away. But that was not all of the religious observances. The Sabbath was sacredly kept, after the old-fashioned manner of putting away the avoidable work of the week, and of giving exceptional attention to sacred things. Mrs. Kirkwood, who was near enough in age to be the “chum” of Calvin, writes: “Among the many living pictures which memory holds of those years, there is one of a large, airy, farmhouse kitchen, on a Sabbath afternoon. The table, with one leaf raised to afford space for ‘Scott’ and ‘Henry’ stands between two doors that look out upon tree-shaded, flower-filled yards. There sits the mother, with open books spread all about her, studying the Bible lesson for herself and for her children. Both parents and children attended a pastor’s class in which the old Sunday School Union Question Book was used. In this many references were given which the children were required to commit.[25] Older people read them from their Bibles, but these children memorized them. Some of the longer ones could never be repeated in after times without awakening associations of the muscularizing mental tussles of those early days.” It was a part of the religious training of each child in that household, just as soon as able to read, to commit to memory the Westminster Shorter Catechism,—not so as to blunder through the answers in some sort of fashion, but so as to recite them all, no matter how long or difficult, without mistaking so much as an article or a preposition.

Stories are handed down concerning the boy Calvin at home, some of which foreshadow characteristics of his later years. One of these must suffice here. The “Hermitage,” when the Mateers came into it, was popularly believed to be haunted by a former occupant whose grave was in an old deserted Episcopal churchyard about a mile away. The grave was sunken, and it was asserted that it would not remain filled. It was also rumored that in the gloomy woods by which the place was surrounded a headless man had been seen wandering at night. Nevertheless the Mateer children often went up there on a Sabbath afternoon, and entered the never-closed door, to view the Bible and books and desk, which were left just as they had been when services long before had ceased to be held; or wandered about the graves, picking the moss from the inscriptions on the headstones, in order to see who could find the oldest. It was a[26] place that, of course, was much avoided at night; for had not restless white forms been seen moving about among these burial places of the dead? The boy Calvin had been in the habit of running by it in the late evening with fast-beating heart. One dark night he went and climbed up on the graveyard fence, resolved to sit in that supremely desolate and uncanny spot till he had mastered the superstitious fear associated with it. The owls hooted, and other night sounds were intensified by the loneliness, but he successfully passed his chosen ordeal, and won a victory worth the effort. In a youthful way he was disciplining himself for more difficult ordeals in China.

The letter from which the sentence at the head of this chapter is taken was written a week after Mateer had reached his twenty-first year and when he was almost half advanced in his senior year in college. Later in the letter he says: “Improvement and advancement need not, and should not, stop with a college life. We should be advancing in knowledge so long as we live.” With this understanding we may somewhat arbitrarily set his graduation from college as terminating the period of his life covered by what I have designated as “the making of the man.”

Back of all else lay his native endowments of body and of mind. Physically he was exceptionally free from both inherited and acquired weaknesses. In a letter which he wrote to his near relatives in this country on the occasion of his seventieth birthday, he said, “I have not only lived, but I have enjoyed an exceptional measure of health.” At no period was he laid aside by protracted sickness. At the same[28] time, this must not be understood to signify that he had one of those iron constitutions that seem to be capable of enduring without harm every sort of exposure except such as in its nature must be mortal. In that part of his Journal covering portions of his college and seminary work he often tells of a lassitude for which he blames himself as morally at fault, but in which a physician would have seen symptoms of a low bodily tone. Bad food, lack of exercise and ill treatment on the voyage which first brought him to China left him with a temporary attack of dyspepsia. Occasionally he had dysentery, and once he had erysipelas. At no time did he regard himself as so rugged in constitution that he did not need to provide himself with proper clothing and shelter, so far as practicable. Nevertheless it was because of the sound physique inherited from his parents, and fostered by his country life during early youth, that without any serious breaking down of health or strength he was able to endure the privations and the toils and cares of his forty-five years in China.

As to his native mental endowments, no one would have been more ready than he to deny that he was a “genius,” if by this is meant that he had an ability offhand to do important things for the accomplishment of which others require study and effort. If, as to this, any exception ought to be made in his favor, it would be concerning some of the applied sciences and machinery, and possibly mathematics. He certainly had an extraordinary aptitude especially as to the[29] former of these. While he himself regarded his work in the Mandarin as perhaps the greatest of his achievements, he had no such talent for the mastery of foreign languages that he did not need time and toil and patience to learn them. In college his best standing was not in Latin or Greek. In China other missionaries have been able to preach in the native tongue after as short a period of preparation; and the perfect command of the language which he attained came only after years of ceaseless toil.

Such were his native physical and mental endowments: a good, sound, though not unusually rugged, bodily constitution; and an intellect vigorous in all of its faculties, which was in degree not so superior as to set him on a pedestal by himself, yet was very considerably above the average even of college students.

Concerning the qualities of his heart and of his will it is best to wait and speak later in this volume.

In the making of a man native endowments are only the material out of which and on which to build. Beyond these, what we become depends on our opportunities and the use to which we put them. The atmosphere of the old home had much to do with the unfolding of the subsequent life and character of Mateer. Some of his leading qualities were there grown into his being.

Other powerful influences also had a large share in his development. About three quarters of a mile from the “Hermitage” stood a township schoolhouse,[30] a small brick building, “guiltless alike of paint or comfort,” most primitive in its furnishing, and open for instruction only five or six months each year, and this in the winter. The pressure of work in the house and on the farm never was allowed to interrupt the attendance of the Mateer children at this little center of learning for the neighborhood. Of course, the teachers usually were qualified only to conduct the pupils over the elementary branches, and no provision was made in the curriculum for anything beyond these. But it so happened that for two winters Calvin had as his schoolmaster there James Duffield, who is described by one of his pupils still living as “a genius in his profession, much in advance of his times, and quite superior to those who preceded and to those who came after him. In appearance Duffield was awkward and shy. His large hands and feet were ever in his way, except when before a class; then he was suddenly at ease, absorbed in the work of teaching, alert, full of vitality, with an enthusiasm for mastery, and an intellectual power that made every subject alive with interest, leaving his impress upon each one of his pupils.” Algebra was not recognized as falling within the legitimate instruction, and no suspicion that any boy or girl was studying it entered the minds of the plain farmers who constituted the official visitors. One day a friend of the teacher, a scholarly man, came in at the time when the examinations were proceeding, and the teacher sprang a surprise by asking this friend whether he would like[31] to see one of his pupils solve a problem in algebra. He had discerned the mathematical bent of the lad, Calvin Mateer, and out of school hours and just for the satisfaction of it he had privately been giving the boy lessons in that study. When an affirmative response was made by the stranger, Calvin went to the blackboard and soon covered half of it with a solution of an algebraic problem. Surprised and delighted, the stranger tested the lad with problem after problem, some of them the hardest in the text-book in use, only to find him able to solve them. It would have been difficult to discover which of the three principal parties to the examination, the visitor, the teacher, or the pupil, was most gratified by the outcome. There can be no question that this country school-teacher had much to do with awakening the mathematical capabilities and perhaps others of the intellectual gifts which characterized that lad in manhood and throughout life.

When Calvin was in his seventeenth year, he started in his pursuit of higher education, entering a small academy at Hunterstown, eight miles from the “Hermitage.” In this step he had the stimulating encouragement of his mother, whose quenchless passion for education has already been described. His father probably would at that time have preferred that he should remain at home and help on the farm; and occasionally, for some years, the question whether he ought not to have fallen in with the paternal wish caused him serious thought. As it was, he came home[32] from the academy in the spring, and in the autumn and also at harvest, to assist in the work.

The first term he began Latin, and the second term Greek, and he kept his mathematics well in hand, thus distinctly setting his face toward college. But his pecuniary means were narrow, and in the winter of 1853-54 he had to turn aside to teach a country school some three miles from his home. In a brief biographical sketch which, by request of his college classmates, he furnished for the fortieth anniversary of their graduation he says: “This was a hard experience. I was not yet eighteen and looked much younger. Many of the scholars were young men and women, older than I, and there was a deal of rowdyism in the district. I held my own, however, and finished with credit, and grew in experience more than in any other period of my life.”

When the school closed he returned to the academy, which by that time had passed into the hands of S. B. Mercer, in whom he found a teacher of exceptional ability, both as to scholarship and as to the stimulation of his students to do and to be the best that was possible to them. In the spring of 1855 Mr. Mercer left the Hunterstown Academy, and went to Merrittstown, Fayette County, Pennsylvania, where he took charge of the Dunlaps Creek Academy. Calvin, influenced by his attachment to his teacher, and also by his intention to enter Jefferson College, situated in a neighboring county, went with him. Here he made his home, with other students, in the[33] house occupied by the Mercers. For teaching two classes, one in geometry and one in Greek, he received his tuition. For the ostensible reason that he had come so far to enter the academy he was charged a reduced price for his board. All the way down to the completion of his course in the theological seminary he managed to live upon the means furnished in part from home, and substantially supplemented by his own labors; but he had to practice rigid economy. It was while at Merrittstown that he made a public profession of religion. This was only a few months before he entered college. He found in Dr. Samuel Wilson, the pastor of the Presbyterian church, a preacher and a man who won his admiration and esteem, and who so encouraged and directed him that he took this step.

In the autumn of 1855 he entered the junior class of Jefferson College, at Canonsburg, Pennsylvania. In those days it was customary for students to be admitted further advanced as to enrollment than at present. I had myself preceded Mateer one year, entering as a sophomore in the same class into which he first came as a junior. One reason for this state of things was that the requirements were considerably lower than they now are; and they were often laxly enforced. Then, because the range of studies required was very limited in kind, consisting until the junior year almost exclusively of Latin, Greek and mathematics, it was possible for the preparatory schools to carry the work of their students well up into the[34] curriculum of the college. Mateer had the advantage, besides, of such an excellent instructor as Professor Mercer, and of experience in teaching. He says: “I was poorly prepared for this class, but managed to squeeze in. The professor of Latin wanted me to make up some work which I had not done; but I demurred, and I recollect saying to him, ‘If after a term you still think I ought to make it up, I will do it, or fall back to the sophomore class.’ I never heard of it afterwards. I was very green and bashful when I went to college, an unsophisticated farmer’s boy from a little country academy. I knew little or nothing of the ways of the world.”

As his classmate in college, and otherwise closely associated with him as a fellow-student, I knew him well. I remember still with a good deal of distinctness his appearance; he was rather tall, light-haired, with a clear and intelligent countenance, and a general physique that indicated thorough soundness of body, though not excessively developed in any member. When I last saw him at Los Angeles a few years ago, I could perceive no great change in his looks, except such as is inevitable from the flight of years, and from his large and varied experience of life. It seems to me that it ought to be easy for any of his acquaintances of later years to form for themselves a picture of him in his young manhood at the college and at the theological seminary. So far as I can now recall, he came to college unheralded as to what might be expected of him there. He did not thrust himself[35] forward; but it was not long until by his work and his thorough manliness, it became evident that in him the class had received an addition that was sure to count heavily in all that was of importance to a student. I do not think that he joined any of the Greek letter secret societies, though these were at the height of their prosperity there at that time. In the literary societies he discharged well and faithfully his duties, but he did not stand out very conspicuously in the exercises required of the members. In those days there was plenty of “college politics,” sometimes very petty, and sometimes not very creditable, though not wholly without profit as a preparation for the “rough-and-tumble” of life in after years, but in this Mateer did not take much part. Most of us were still immature enough to indulge in pranks that afforded us fun, but which were more an expression of our immaturity than we then imagined; and Mateer participated in one of these in connection with the Frémont-Buchanan campaign in 1856. A great Republican meeting was held at Canonsburg, and some of us students appeared in the procession as a burlesque company of Kansas “border ruffians.” We were a sadly disgraceful-looking set. Of one thing I am sure, that while Mateer gave himself constantly to his duties and refrained from most of the silly things of college life, he was not by any of us looked upon as a “stick.” He commanded our respect.

The faculty was small and the equipment of the college meager. The attendance was nearly three[36] hundred. As to attainments, we were a mixed multitude. To instruct all of these there were—for both regular and required work—only six men, including one for the preparatory department. What could these few do to meet the needs of this miscellaneous crowd? They did their best, and it was possible for any of us, especially for the brighter student, to get a great deal of valuable education even under these conditions. Mateer in later years acknowledges his indebtedness to all of the faculty, but particularly to Dr. A. B. Brown, who was our president up to the latter part of our senior year; to Dr. Alden, who succeeded him; and to Professor Fraser, who held the chair of mathematics. Dr. Brown was much admired by the students for his rhetorical ability in the pulpit and out of it. Dr. Alden was quite in contrast to his predecessor as to many things. He had long been a teacher, and was clear and concise in his intellectual efforts. Mateer said, late in life, that from his drill in moral science he “got more good than from any other one branch in the course.” Professor Fraser was a brilliant, all-round scholar of the best type then prevalent, and had the enthusiastic admiration even of those students who were little able to appreciate his teaching. In the physical sciences the course was necessarily still limited and somewhat elementary. His classmates remember the evident mastery which Mateer had of all that was attempted by instruction or by experimentation in that department. It was not possible to get much of what is called “culture”[37] out of the curriculum, and that through no fault of the faculty; yet for the stimulation of the intellectual powers and the unfolding of character there was an opportunity such as may be seriously lacking in the conditions of college instruction in recent years.

These were the palmy days of Jefferson College. She drew to herself students not only from Pennsylvania and the contiguous states, but also from the more distant regions of the west and the south. We were dumped down there, a heterogeneous lot of young fellows, and outside of the classroom we were left for the most part to care for ourselves. We had no luxuries and we were short of comforts. We got enough to eat, of a very plain sort, and we got it cheap. We were wholly unacquainted with athletics and other intercollegiate goings and comings which now loom up so conspicuously in college life; but we had, with rare exceptions, come from the country and the small towns, intent on obtaining an education which would help us to make the most of ourselves in after years. As to this, Mateer was a thoroughly representative student. He could not then foresee his future career, but he was sure that in it he dared not hope for success unless he made thoroughly good use of his present, passing opportunities. He was evidently a man who was there for a purpose.

The class of 1857 has always been proud of itself, and not without reason. Fifty-eight of us received our diplomas on commencement. Among them were such leaders in the church as George P. Hays, David[38] C. Marquis and Samuel J. Niccolls, all of whom have been Moderators of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church. In the law, S. C. T. Dodd, for many years the principal solicitor of the Standard Oil Company, stands out most conspicuously. Three of our number have served for longer or shorter periods as college presidents. Of Doctors of Divinity we have a long list, and also a goodly number of Doctors of Law; and others, though they have received less recognition for their work, have in our judgment escaped only because the world does not always know the worth of quiet lives. To spend years in the associations of such a class in college is itself an efficient means of education. It is a high tribute to the ability and the diligence of Mateer that, although he was with us only two years, he divided the first honor. The sharer with him in this distinction was the youngest member of the class, but a man who, in addition to unusual capacity, also had enjoyed the best preparation for college then available. On the part of Mateer, it was not what is known as genius that won the honor; it was a combination of solid intellectual capacity, with hard, constant work. The faculty assigned him the valedictory, the highest distinction at graduation, but on his own solicitation, this was given to the other first honor man.

In a letter sent by him from Wei Hsien, China, September 4, 1907, in answer to a message addressed to him by the little remnant of his classmates who assembled at Canonsburg a couple of months earlier,[39] to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of their graduation, he said:

It was with very peculiar feelings of pleasure mingled with sadness that I read what was done by you at your meeting. The distance that separated me from you all adds a peculiar emphasis to my feelings, suggestive of loneliness. I have never been homesick in China. I would not be elsewhere than where I am, nor doing any other work than what I am doing. Yet when I read over the account of that meeting in Canonsburg my feelings were such as I have rarely had before. Separated by half the circumference of the globe for full forty-four years, yet in the retrospect the friendship formed in these years of fellowship in study seems to grow fresher and stronger as our numbers grow less. A busy life gives little time for retrospection, yet I often think of college days and college friends. Very few things in my early life have preserved their impression so well. I can still repeat the roll of our class, and I remember well how we sat in that old recitation room of Professor Jones [physics and chemistry]. I am in the second half of my seventy-second year, strong and well. China has agreed with me. I have spent my life itinerating, teaching and translating, with chief strength on teaching. But with us all who are left, the meridian of life is past, and the evening draws on. Yet a few of us have still some work to do. Let us strive to do it well, and add what we can to the aggregate achievement of the class’s life work—a record of which I trust none of us may be ashamed.

In the unanticipated privilege of writing this book I am trying to fulfill that wish of our revered classmate.

In the four sentences at the head of this chapter we have a condensed outline of the process by which Calvin Mateer came to be a foreign missionary. In his case it did not, as in the antecedent experience of most other clergymen who have given themselves to this work, start with an attraction first toward the ministry, and then toward the missionary service; but just the reverse. In order to understand this we need to go back again to “the old home,” and especially to his mother. We are fortunate here in having the veil of the past lifted by Mrs. Kirkwood, as one outside of the family could not do, or, even if he could, would hesitate to do.

Long before her marriage, when indeed but a young girl, Mary Nelson Diven [Calvin’s mother] heard an appeal for the Sandwich Islands made by the elder Dr. Forbes, one of the early missionaries of the American Board, to those islands. He asked for a box of supplies. There was not much missionary[41] interest in the little church of Dillsburg, York County, Pennsylvania, of which she was a member; for the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions had not been organized, and the American Board had not attained its majority. Her pastor sympathized with the newly awakened zeal and interest of his young parishioner, when she proposed to canvass the congregation in response to Dr. Forbes’s appeal. The box was secured and sent. This was the seed that germinated in her heart so early and bore fruit through the whole of her long life.

When in her nineteenth year she was married to John Mateer, hers was a marriage in the Lord; and together she and her husband consecrated their children in their infancy to his service. This consecration was not a form; they were laid upon the altar and never taken back. Through all the self-denying struggles to secure their education, one aim was steadily kept in view, that of fitting them either to carry the gospel to some heathen land, or to do the Lord’s work in their own land.

In addition to the foreign missionary periodicals, a number of biographies of foreign missionaries were secured and were read by all the family. Not only did this mother try to awaken in her children an interest in missions through missionary literature, but she devised means to strengthen and make permanent this interest, to furnish channels through which these feelings and impulses might flow toward practical results. One of these was a missionary mite box which she fashioned with her own hands, away back in the early forties, before the mite boxes had been scattered broadcast in the land. Quaint indeed it was, this plain little wooden box, covered with small-figured wall paper. Placed upon the[42] parlor mantel, it soon became the shrine of the children’s devotion. No labor or self-denial on their part was considered too great to secure pennies for “the missionary box.” Few pennies were spent for self-indulgence after that box was put in place, and overflowing was the delight when some unwonted good fortune made it possible to drop in silver coins—“six-and-a-fourth bits,” or “eleven-penny bits.” Most of the offerings were secured by such self-denials as foregoing coffee, sugar, or butter. There was not at that time much opportunity for country children to earn even pennies. The “red-letter” day of all the year was when the box was opened and the pennies were counted.

This earnest-hearted mother had counted the cost of what she was doing in thus educating her children into the missionary spirit. When her first-born turned his face toward the heathen world, there was no drawing back—freely she gave him to the work. As one after another of her children offered themselves to the Foreign Board, she rejoiced in the honor God had put upon her, never shrinking from the heart strain the separation from her children must bring. She only made them more special objects of prayer, thus transmuting her personal care-taking to faith. She lived to see four of her children in China.

This explains how it came about that this elder son, from youth, had before him the missionary work as “a dim vision,” and that “a half-formed resolution” to take it up was all the while in his mind.

When he graduated from college, he had made no decision as to his life work. During the years preceding he at no time put aside the claims of missions,[43] and consequently of the ministry, upon him, and in various ways he showed his interest in that line of Christian service. As he saw the situation the choice seemed mainly to lie between this on the one hand, and teaching on the other. Before he graduated he had the offer of a place in the corps of instructors for the Lawrenceville (New Jersey) school, since grown into such magnitude and esteem as a boys’ preparatory institution; but the conditions were not such that he felt justified in accepting. Unfortunately, there is a blank in his Journal for the period between March 4, 1857, some six months before he received his diploma at Jefferson, and October 24, 1859, when he had already been a good while in the theological seminary; and to supply it scarcely any of his letters are available. In the autobiographical sketch already noticed he says:

From college I went to take charge of the academy at Beaver, Pennsylvania. I found it run down almost to nothing, so that the first term (half year) it hardly paid me my board. I was on my mettle, however, and determined not to fail. I taught and lectured and advertised, making friends as fast as I could. I found the school with about twenty boys, all day scholars; I left it at the end of the third term with ninety, of whom thirty were boarders. I could easily have gone on and made money, but I felt that I was called to preach the gospel, and so, I sold out my school and went to Allegheny [Western Theological Seminary], entering when the first year was half over.

One of his pupils at Beaver was J. R. Miller, D.D., a distinguished minister of the gospel in Philadelphia; and very widely known especially as the author of solid but popular religious books. Writing of his experience at the Beaver Academy, he says:

When I first entered, the principal was Mr. Mateer. The first night I was there, my room was not ready, and I slept with him in his room. I can never forget the words of encouragement and cheer he spoke that night, to a homesick boy, away for almost the first time from his father and mother.... My contact with him came just at the time when my whole life was in such plastic form that influence of whatever character became permanent. He was an excellent teacher. His personal influence over me was very great. I suppose that when the records are all known, it will be seen that no other man did so much for the shaping of my life as he did.

While at Beaver he at last decided that he was called of God to study for the ministry, but called not by any extraordinary external sign or inward experience. It was a sense of duty that determined him, and although he obeyed willingly, yet it was not without a struggle. He had a consciousness of ability to succeed as a teacher or in other vocations; and he was by no means without ambition to make his mark in the world. Because he was convinced by long and careful and prayerful consideration that he ought to become a minister he put aside all the other pursuits that might have opened to him. Not long after he entered the seminary he wrote to his mother:[45] “You truly characterize the work for which I am now preparing as a great and glorious one. I have long looked forward to it, though scarcely daring to think it my duty to engage in it. After much pondering in my own mind, and prayer for direction I have thought it my duty to preach.”

On account of teaching, as already related, he did not enter the theological seminary until more than a year after I did, so that I was not his classmate there. He came some months late in the school year, and had at first much back work to make up; but he soon showed that he ranked among the very best students. His classmate, Rev. John H. Sherrard, of Pittsburg, writes:

One thing I do well remember about Mateer: his mental superiority impressed everyone, as also his deep spirituality. In some respects, indeed most, he stood head and shoulders above his fellows around him.

We regarded him as one of our most level-headed men; our peer in all points; not good merely in one point, but most thorough in all branches of study. He was cheerful and yet not flippant, and with a tinge of the most serious. He was optimistic, dwelling much on God’s great love.... He was not only a year in advance of most of us in graduating from college, but I think that we, as students, felt that though we were classmates in the seminary, he was in advance of us in other things. Life seemed[46] more serious to him. I doubt if any one of us felt the responsibility of life as much as he did. I doubt if anyone worked as hard as he.

The Western Theological Seminary, during the period of Mateer’s attendance, was at the high-water mark of prosperity. The general catalogue shows an enrollment of sixty-one men in his class; the total in all classes hovered about one hundred and fifty. In the faculty there were only four members, and, estimated by the specializations common in our theological schools to-day, they could not adequately do all their work; and this was the more true of them, because all save one of them eked out his scanty salary by taking charge of a city church. But they did better than might now be thought possible; and especially was this practicable because of the limited curriculum then prescribed, and followed by all students. Dr. David Elliott was still at work, though beyond the age when he was at his best. Samuel J. Wilson was just starting in his brilliant though brief career, and commanded a peculiar attachment from his pupils. Dr. Jacobus was widely known and appreciated for his popular commentaries. However, the member of the faculty who left the deepest impress on Mateer was Dr. William S. Plumer. Nor in this was his case exceptional. We all knew that Dr. Plumer was not in the very first rank of theologians. We often missed in his lectures the marks of very broad and deep scholarship. But as a teacher he nevertheless made upon[47] our minds an impression that was so great and lasting that in all our subsequent lives we have continued to rejoice in having been under his training. Best of all was his general influence on the students. We doubt whether in the theological seminaries of the Presbyterian Church of the United States it has ever been equaled, except by Archibald Alexander of Princeton. The dominant element of that influence was a magnificent personality saturated with the warmest and most tender piety, having its source in love for the living, personal Saviour. For Dr. Plumer, Mateer had then a very high degree of reverent affection, and he never lost it.

Spiritually, the condition of the seminary while Mateer was there was away above the ordinary. In the winter of 1857-58 a great revival had swept over the United States, and across the Atlantic. In no place was it more in evidence than in the theological schools; it quickened immensely the spiritual life of the majority of the students. One of its fruits there was the awakening of a far more intense interest in foreign missions. I can still recall the satisfaction which some of us who in the seminary were turning our faces toward the unevangelized nations had in the information that this strong man who stood in the very first rank as to character and scholarship had decided to offer himself to the Board of Foreign Missions for such service as they might select for him. It was a fitting consummation of his college and seminary life.

Yet it was only slowly, even in the seminary, and after much searching of his own heart and much wrestling in prayer, that he came to this decision. Outside of himself there was a good deal that tended to impel him toward it. The faculty, and especially Dr. Plumer, did all they could wisely to press on the students the call of the unevangelized nations for the gospel. Representatives of this cause—missionaries and secretaries—visited the seminary, where there were, at that time, more than an ordinary number of young men who had caught the missionary spirit. In college, Mateer, without seeking to isolate himself from others, had come into real intimacy with scarcely any of his fellow-students. He says in the autobiographical sketch, “I minded my own business, making comparatively few friends outside of my own class, largely because I was too bashful to push my way.” In the seminary he, while still rather reserved, came nearer to some of his fellow-theologues; and especially to one, Dwight B. Hervey, who shared with him the struggle over duty as to a field of service. They seem to have been much in conference on that subject.

On the 21st of January, 1860, he presented himself before the Presbytery of Ohio, to which the churches of Pittsburg belonged, passed examination in his college studies, and was received under the care of that body; but he had not then made up his mind to be a missionary. On the 12th of April of the same year he went before the Presbytery of Butler, at[49] Butler, Pennsylvania (having at his own request been transferred to the care of that organization, because his parents’ home was now within its bounds), and was licensed to preach. Yet still he had not decided to be a missionary. He was powerfully drawn toward that work, and vacillation at no time in his life was a characteristic; there simply was as yet no need that he should finally make up his mind, and he wished to avoid any premature committal of himself, which later he might regret, or which he might feel bound to recall.

The summer of 1860 he spent in preaching here and there about Pittsburg, several months being given to the Plains and Fairmount churches; followed by a visit home, and another in Illinois.

When the seminary opened in the autumn, he was back in his place. One of the duties which fell to him was to preach a missionary sermon before the Society of Inquiry. He did this so well that the students by vote expressed a desire that the sermon should be published. In his Journal he notes that the preparation of this discourse “strengthened his determination to give himself to this work.” Before the Christmas recess Dr. J. Leighton Wilson, one of the secretaries of the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, visited the seminary, and in conference did much to stimulate the missionary spirit. He found in Mateer an eager and responsive listener. On the 12th of December Mateer wrote a long letter to his mother, in which he expresses feeling, because without warrant[50] some one had told her that he had offered himself to the Foreign Board. He says, “I am not going to take such an important step without informing you of it directly and explicitly.” Then he proceeds to tell her just what was his attitude at that time:

I have thought of the missionary work this long time, but not very seriously until within the last couple of years. Ever since I came to the seminary I have had a conviction to some degree that I ought to go as a missionary. That conviction has been constantly growing and deepening, and more especially of late. I have about concluded that so far as I am myself concerned it is my duty to be a missionary. I have thought a great deal on this subject and I think that I have not come to such a conclusion hastily. It has cost me very considerable effort to give up the prospects which I might have had at home. The matter in almost every view you can take of it involves trial and self-denial. I need great grace,—for this I pray. But even if I have prospects of usefulness at home, surely nothing can be lost in this respect by doing what I am convinced is my duty. Indeed, one of the encouraging features, in fact the great encouragement, is a prospect of more extended usefulness than at home. This may seem not to be so at the first view, but a more careful consideration of all the aspects of the case will, I think, bring a different conclusion.

The letter is very full, and lays bare his whole mind and heart as he would be willing to do only to his mother. It is a revelation of this strong, self-reliant, mature but filial-spirited and tenderly thoughtful[51] young Christian man and prospective minister, to a mother whom he recognized as deserving an affectionate consideration such as he owed to no other created being.

On the 7th of January, 1861, he received a letter from his mother, in which she gave her consent that he should be a foreign missionary, naming only one or two conditions which involved no insuperable difficulty. In a student prayer meeting about three weeks later he took occasion in some remarks to tell them that he had decided to offer himself for this work. Still, it was not until the 5th of April, and when within two weeks of graduation, that he, in a full and formal letter, such as is expected and is appropriate, offered himself to the Board. In his Journal of that date, after recording the character of his letter, he says: “This is a solemn and important step which I have now taken. During this week, while writing this letter, I have, I trust, looked again at the whole matter, and asked help and guidance from God. I fully believe it is my duty to go. My greatest fear has been that I was not as willing to go as I should be, but I cast myself on Christ and go forward.” On the 13th of April he received word from the Board that he had been accepted, the time of his going out and his field of labor being yet undetermined.

So the problem of his life work was at length solved, as surely as it could be by human agency. It had been his mother’s wish that he should wait a year before going to his field, and to this he had no serious objection; but as matters turned out, more than two[52] years elapsed before he was able to leave this country. This long delay was caused by the outbreak of the Civil War, and the financial stringency which made it impossible for the Foreign Board to assume any additional obligations. Much of the time the outlook was so dark that he almost abandoned hope of entering on his chosen work, though the thought of this filled his heart with grief. He was intensely loyal to the cause of the Union, and if he had not been a licentiate for the ministry he almost certainly would have enlisted in the army. He records his determination to go if drafted. Once, indeed, during this period of waiting he was a sort of candidate for a chaplaincy to a regiment, which fortunately he did not secure. For several months he preached here and there in the churches of the general region about Pittsburg, and also made a visit to towns in central Ohio, one of these being Delaware, the seat of the Ohio Wesleyan University. Not long afterward he received an urgent request from the Old School Presbyterian Church in that town to come and supply them. About the same time the churches of Fairmount and Plains in Pennsylvania gave him a formal call to become their pastor, but this he declined. He accepted the invitation to Delaware, I suppose partly because it left him free still to go as a missionary whenever the way might open. At Delaware he remained eighteen months, until at last, in the good providence of God, he was ordered “to the front” out in China.

The story of his service of the church in that place need not be told here except in brief. It must, however, be clearly stated that it was in the highest degree creditable to him. In fact, the conditions were such that one may see in it a providential training in the courage and patience and faithfulness which in later years he needed to exercise on the mission field. The church was weak, and was overshadowed somewhat even among the Presbyterian element by a larger and less handicapped New School organization; and was sorely distressed by internal troubles. For a while after Mateer came, it was a question whether it could be resuscitated from its apparently dying stale. At the end of his period of service it was once more alive, comparatively united, and anxious to have him remain as pastor.

On November 12, 1862, while in charge of the church at Delaware, he was ordained to the full work of the ministry, as an evangelist, by the Presbytery of Marion, in session at Delaware.

On December 27, 1862, he was married in Delaware, at the home of her uncle, to Miss Julia A. Brown, of Mt. Gilead, Ohio. Two years before they were already sufficiently well acquainted to interchange friendly letters; later their friendship ripened into mutual love; and now, after an eight months’ engagement, they were united for life. Mateer says in his Journal, “The wedding was very small and quiet; though it was not wanting in merriment,” and naïvely adds, “Found marrying not half so hard as[54] proposing.” Julia, as he ever afterward calls her, was a superbly good wife for him. In her own home, in the schoolroom, in the oversight of the Chinese boys and girls who were their pupils, in the preparation of her “Music Book,” in her labors for the evangelization of the women, in her journeyings,—hindered as she was most of the time by broken health,—she effectively toiled on, until at last, after thirty-five years of missionary service, her husband laid away all of her that was mortal in the little cemetery east of the city of Tengchow, by the side of her sister, Maggie (Mrs. Capp), who had died in the same service, and of other missionary friends who had gone on before her.

When they were married they were still left in great uncertainty as to the time when the Board could send them out, or, indeed, whether the Board could send them out at all. They went on their bridal trip to his parents’ home in western Pennsylvania, reaching there on Wednesday, December 31. Just a week afterward he received a letter from the Board announcing their readiness to send them to China. The record of his Journal deserves to be given here in full.

Scarcely anything in my life ever came so unexpectedly. A peal of thunder in the clear winter sky would not have surprised us more. The letter was handed me in the morning when I came downstairs at grandfather’s. After reading it, I took it upstairs and read it to “my Jewel.” In less than three minutes I think our minds were made up. Her first exclamation[55] after hearing the letter I shall not forget: “Oh, I am glad!” That was the right ring for a missionary: no long-drawn, sorrowful sigh, but the straight-out, noble, self-sacrificing, “Oh, I am glad!” I shall remember that time, that look, that expression. If I did not say, I felt, the same. I think I can truly say I was and am glad. My lifelong aspiration is yet to be realized. I shall yet spend my life and lay my bones in a heathen land. I had fully made up my mind to labor in this country, and most likely for some time in Delaware; but how suddenly everything is changed! The only regret I feel is that I am not five years younger. What a great advantage it would give me in acquiring the language! But so it is, and Providence made it so. I had despaired of going, and despairing I was greatly perplexed to understand the leadings of Providence in directing my mind so strongly to the work, and bringing me so near to the point of going before. Now I understand the matter better. Now I see that my strong persuasion that I would yet go was right. God did not deceive me. He only led me by a way that I knew not. Just when the darkness seemed to be greatest, then the sun shone suddenly out. How strange it all seems! The way was all closed; no funds to send out men to China; and I could not go. Suddenly two missionaries die, and the health of another fails; and the Board feels constrained to send out one man at least, to supply their place; and so the door opens to me. And I will enter it, for Providence has surely opened it. As I have given myself to this work, and hold myself in readiness to go, I will not retrace my steps now. Having put my hand to the plow, I will not look back. I do not wish to. It is true, however, that preaching a year and a half has bound strong[56] cords around me to keep me here. I cannot go so easily now as I might have done when I first left the seminary. It will be a sore trial to tear myself away from the folks at Delaware. They will try hard, I know, to retain me; but I think my mind is set, and I must go. I must go; I am glad to go; I will go. The Lord will provide for Delaware. I commit the work there to his hands. I trust and believe that he will carry it on, and that it will yet appear that my labor there has not been in vain. Yesterday I was twenty-seven years old. I hope to chronicle my next birthday in China. The Lord has spared me twenty-seven years in my native land. Will he give me as many in China! Grant it, O Lord, and strengthen me mightily to spend them all for thee!

This strong, persistent, conscientious, self-controlled, consecrated man had found his life work at last.

The choice of the country to which he should go as a missionary had been with him a subject of earnest consideration and prayer. He says in his Journal, under date of September 12, 1862:

The Board wished me to go to Canton, China, at first. This was altogether against my inclinations and previous plans; but the Board would not send me anywhere else, until in the last letter they offered to send me to Japan; I have long had thoughts of northern India or of Africa; and especially have I wished to go to some new mission where the ground is unoccupied, and where I would not be entrammeled by rules and rigid instructions. The languages of eastern Asia are also exceedingly difficult and the missionary work is peculiarly discouraging among that people.

Two days later, however, he sent the Board a letter saying that he would go to Japan. When his field finally was specifically designated, it was north China. He was to be stationed at Tengchow, a port[58] that had been opened to foreign commerce in the province of Shantung.

The Mateers remained at Delaware until late in April. Until that time he continued in charge of his church. In a touching farewell service they took leave of their people, and traveled by slow stages toward New York.

Going to live in China was then so much more serious a matter than it is now that we can scarcely appreciate the leave-takings that fell to the lot of these two young missionaries. The hardest trial of all was to say good-by to mother and to father, and to brothers and sisters, some of whom were yet small children, and for whom he felt that he might do so much if not separated from them by half the distance round the world.

At length on July 3, 1863, they embarked at New York on the ship that was to carry them far to the south of the Cape of Good Hope, then eastward almost in sight of the northern shores of Australia, and finally, by the long outside route, up north again to Shanghai. They were one hundred and sixty-five days, or only about two weeks short of half a year, in making the voyage. During that long period they never touched land. It needs to be borne in mind that in 1863 the Suez Canal had only been begun; that the railroads across our continent had not been built; and that no lines of passenger steamers were running from our western coast over to Asia. No blame, therefore, is chargeable to the Board of Missions for[59] sending out their appointees on a sailing vessel. The ship selected was a merchantman, though not a clipper built for quick transit, was of moderate size, in sound condition, and capable of traveling at fairly good speed. Accompanying the Mateers were Hunter Corbett and his wife, who also had been appointed by the Board, for Tengchow. There were six other passengers, none of whom were missionaries, and, besides the officers, there was a crew of sixteen men.

At best the voyage could not be otherwise than tedious and trying. The accommodations for passengers were necessarily scant, the staterooms, being mere closets with poor ventilation, and this cut off in rough weather. The only place available for exercise was the poop deck, about thirty feet long; thus walking involved so much turning as greatly to lessen the pleasure, and many forms of amusement common on larger vessels were entirely shut out. Food on such a long voyage had to be limited in variety, and must become more or less stale. Of course, it was hot in the tropics, and it was cold away south of the equator, and again up north in November and December. Seasickness is a malady from which exemption could not be expected. When a company of passengers and officers with so little in common as to character and aims were cooped together, for so long a time, in narrow quarters, where they must constantly come into close contact, a serious lack of congeniality and some friction might be expected to develop among them.

The ship also, on that voyage, encountered distinctive annoyances and dangers. For weeks after they sailed they were in constant dread of Confederate privateers. Once they were so sure that they were about to be captured by a ship which they mistook for one of these destroyers of American commerce that they hastily prepared as well as they could for such a catastrophe. When they sailed from New York, the battle of Gettysburg was in progress and still undecided; and it was not until October 15 when they were overtaken by a vessel which had sailed eleven days after them from New York, that their anxiety as to the result was relieved, and their hearts were thrilled with exultation, by the news that Meade was victorious, and also that Vicksburg had fallen. Out among the islands to the northeast of Australia the ship was caught in a current, and was forced so rapidly and nearly on the wild, rocky shores of an uncivilized island that the captain himself despaired of escaping wreck. Providentially a breeze from the land sprang up and carried them out of danger. They were overtaken by no severe storms. Several times their patience was sorely tested by protracted calms; in the Pacific it once took them seventeen days to make three hundred and forty miles.

All of these things lay beyond the control of the officers and crew, and the missionaries accepted them as trials to which they ought quietly and patiently to submit. But imagine as added to this a half year’s subjection to the arbitrary and autocratic rule of a[61] captain who was ignorant except as to seamanship; who was coarse and constantly profane in speech; who was tyrannical and brutal so far as he dared to be, and yet when boldly faced by those who were able to bring him to account for his conduct was a contemptible coward; who skimped the people on board of food adequate in quantity or decently fit in quality, partly because of stingy greed, and partly from a desire thus to gratify his malignant disposition; who hated missionaries and seemed to have a special pleasure in making their lives on his ship as uncomfortable as possible; who barely tolerated such religious observances as the asking of a blessing at meals, or a service for social worship on the Sabbath in the cabin, and who forbade all attempts to do any religious work, even by conversation, among the crew; who was capable of descending to various petty meannesses in order to gratify his base inclinations; and who somehow yet managed to secure from officers under him a measure of sympathy and coöperation in his conduct. When we have as fully as possible grasped these things, we can understand why Dr. Mateer, half a lifetime afterward, wrote to his college classmates that if in order to reach America it had been necessary to repeat the experience of that outward voyage, it is doubtful if ever again he had seen his native land.

But at last this voyage was nearing its end. They might have reached port some days earlier, had it not been that all the crew except three or four had—through[62] lack of proper food and other bad treatment—been attacked by scurvy, a disease already then having been almost shut out even from sailing vessels on long trips. On December 16 they had the happiness of going ashore at Shanghai, where they soon found a welcome in the homes of missionaries and of other friends. Corbett was not well, and Mateer always believed that the health of both Julia and Corbett was permanently injured by the treatment received on that outward voyage.

On the voyage the missionaries warned the captain that they would surely hold him to account for his conduct, when they reached Shanghai. They kept their word. After consultation with the missionaries on the local field, with a lawyer, and with the American consul, they determined to proceed with formal charges against him. Learning of this, he lost no time in coming to them, and, with fear and trembling, he begged that they would have mercy on him. A second interview was appointed, but Corbett was too unwell to see him, and Mateer had to meet him alone. In his Journal he says:

I took the paper which had been read to the consul, and read it to him giving copious comments and illustrations, at the same time asking him to explain or correct if he could. I never in my life gave any man such a lecturing. I just kept myself busy for an hour and a half telling him how mean and contemptible a scoundrel he was. I then offered him as a settlement of the matter a paper which I proposed to publish, stating in it that he had apologized and[63] that we had agreed to suspend prosecution. From this he pled off in the most pitiful manner, saying that he would be ruined by it.

The third day he came again and made such an appeal for mercy that Mateer’s sympathy, and also his desire to avoid detention at Shanghai, led him to agree to accept a private apology, and to refer the matter to the interested parties at New York. Years afterward Mateer, on going aboard a coasting steamer bound for Shanghai, discovered that this man was the captain. He at once cancelled his passage, and went ashore until he could secure a place on another vessel.

Tengchow is distant more than five hundred miles from Shanghai. The only way to reach it was by a second voyage northward along the coast to Chefoo, and thence overland. On January 3, 1864, the Mateers and the Corbetts went aboard the little coasting steamer “Swatow,” bound for Chefoo. They had a head wind, and the ship was almost empty of cargo. They suffered again from seasickness, and from cold on account of lack of bed-clothing. On the evening of the third day out, at about half-past eight, they were sitting around the stove expecting soon to be at Chefoo, when suddenly the vessel struck the bottom and the bell rang to reverse the engine. Bump followed bump, until it seemed as if she must go to pieces. The captain, though not unfamiliar with the route, had allowed himself to be deceived by the masts of a sunken ship, and supposing this to be a vessel at anchor in the harbor of Chefoo,[64] had gone in, and his steamer was now hard and fast on the bottom, about fifteen miles down the coast from his destination. We will allow Mateer in his Journal to tell his own story.

All was a scene of indescribable confusion. The captain lost all self-possession and all authority over his men. Most of his crew and servants were Chinese or Malays, and on such an occasion the worst features of their character shine out. They refused to do anything and went to packing up their few goods and at the same time seizing everything they could get hold of. They went everywhere and into everything, pilfering and destroying. Meanwhile the waves were striking the vessel at a fearful rate, and threatening to break it into pieces. We knew not what to do, or what we could do. The mates and two passengers (a merchant and an English naval officer) lowered a boat and, pushing off, succeeded in landing and in making a rope fast from the ship to the shore. They found that we were much nearer the land than we had supposed. We were now in a great quandary what to do, whether to remain on the ship, or get in the boat and go ashore. We mostly inclined to remain, but the captain urged us to go ashore. While the wind remained moderate we could stay on the ship with safety; but if the wind should increase before morning we might be in danger of our lives. The captain said that he thought that it was not more than eight or nine miles to Chefoo, and he was anxious that word should be sent there. We at length yielded to his advice, and about eleven o’clock got into a boat and managed to get ashore through the surf. It was a bitter cold night, and we loaded ourselves with blankets which we supposed would come into requisition[65] to keep us warm. Our party consisted of nine passengers (we four, Rev. Williamson and wife and child, and Rev. McClatchie—all missionaries—and Mr. Wilson, a merchant, and Mr. Riddle, a naval officer) and six Chinamen. Our hope was to set out in the direction of Chefoo, get a lodging for the ladies and Mr. Corbett by the way, while the rest of us pushed on to Chefoo to obtain assistance. We started off according to this plan, but soon found our way stopped by fields of ice, and we were compelled to turn from our course and seek the hills which towered up in the distance. The walking was very fatiguing; indeed, the ground was covered several inches with snow, and at many places there were large cakes and fields of ice. After long and weary tramping and turning and disputing about the best way, we at length reached the hills. I mounted to the top of the first hill and tried to get the party to go up over the hill and directly inland until we should find a house or village. Other counsels prevailed, however, and we wandered along the foot of the hill the best part of a mile. At length I got in the lead, and persuaded them that no houses would be found unless we went inland from the barren beach. We then crossed the ridge at a low place and retraced our steps on the other side of it, and finally, after much urging, persuaded those who wanted to sit down until morning to follow on inland on the track of some of our Chinamen. We soon came to a village, which was indeed a welcome sight. We were cold, and our feet were wet, and we were very tired, especially the ladies. Our troubles were not over yet, however, for we could not induce any of the Chinese to let us in. It was now four o’clock, and we were suffering from the effects of five hours’ wandering in the snow and cold. Yet they persistently closed their[66] doors and kept us out. Mr. Williamson and Mr. McClatchie could talk to them some, yet they refused to receive us.

At last, after shivering in the cold about an hour, we succeeded in getting into a sort of shanty, which, however, afforded but very poor comfort. There was a heated kang in it, and the ladies managed to warm their feet on this. When it began to get light Mr. Riddle and Mr. Wilson started to Chefoo, thinking the city was only half a mile distant. This was what Mrs. Williamson understood the natives to say. Some time after Mr. McClatchie started, supposing it was three miles. We made breakfast on boiled rice and sweet potatoes which the people brought us.

I started back to see what had become of the ship, and to look after our things. I found the vessel all sound and everything safe. I succeeded in getting several trunks of mine and Mr. Williamson’s landed on the beach, and got some of them started up to the village, which was at least two miles from the ship. Mr. Williamson then went down and succeeded in getting a variety of other things brought off and carried up to the village. It was a beautiful calm day, but we feared that a gale might spring up, as gales were frequent in this region at that time of year. In such a case the vessel must quickly be broken in pieces, and everything destroyed.

We now began to look around for the night, and it was not a very comfortable prospect. Some English people came from Yentai (just across the bay from Chefoo) to survey the wreck of a vessel that had been cast away some time before at the same place, and they very kindly sent us some supper—their own, in fact—and also brought us a supply of furs and blankets. We had one large kang heated, and[67] on this five stowed themselves, covering themselves with the blankets, while I made a bed and slept on the ground. The rest of the little room was filled with trunks and Chinese rubbish of various kinds. We slept very comfortably, however, and as we were very tired and had not slept a wink the night before, our sleep was sweet and refreshing to us. We had great cause to be thankful for even such accommodations in the circumstances.

We made our breakfast on two dozen boiled eggs and some bread which the Englishmen had left us. I started immediately to the ship, intending, as the day was fine, to try and get as much as possible of the goods belonging to us off the ship, and to store them there until they could be taken to Yentai. As I came over the top of the hill and looked out on the sea, I saw a steamer coming which I knew was the English gunboat from Chefoo. My heart bounded with joy at the sight. At last we were to get help, and to reach Yentai without going overland. All our goods also would no doubt be saved.

By land it was twenty-eight miles to Chefoo, instead of the short distance supposed by the men who started to walk, but they had persisted; and at their instigation the gunboat had come to relieve the party left behind. After some failures the gunboat succeeded in pulling the “Swatow” into water where she again floated safely. The party out at the village returned, and the goods were brought back and put on board the gunboat, Mateer remaining over night with the steamer and coming up the next day to Chefoo. He notices in his Journal that although Corbett was[68] in a very weak state, he seemed to suffer little or no bad effects from the first terrible night on shore; nor were the ladies apparently any the worse for their exposure. He mentions also that while some of the natives at the village were disposed to annoy them as much as possible, others of them were very kind, and he adds, “Never before did I feel my helpless condition so much as among those natives, with whom I could not speak a single word.”

Of course, they received a hearty welcome from the missionaries at Chefoo. On the following Wednesday they started for Tengchow, fifty-five miles away, traveling by shentza—a mode of travel peculiar to China, and developed largely because of the almost complete absence of anything like good wagon roads. It is simply a sort of covered litter, sustained between two mules, one in advance of the other; in it one reclines, and is jolted up and down by the motion of the animals, each going after his own fashion over rough paths which lead without plan across the plains and hills. Mateer’s Journal says of that trip:

We rode about fifteen miles and stopped for the night at a Chinese inn. We had brought our eatables along, and, having got some tea, we made a very good supper, and we went to bed all together on a Chinese kang heated up to keep us warm. Next morning it was bitter cold, and we did not get started until about ten o’clock. I made them turn my shentza and Julia’s around [that is, with the open front away from the wind] or I do not know what we should have done. About five o’clock our cavalcade turned into an inn,[69] and we soon found to our chagrin and vexation that we were doomed to spend another night in a Chinese inn; which, by the way, is anything but a comfortable place on a cold night. We made the best of it, however, and the next morning we were off again for Tengchow, where we arrived safely about two o’clock. At last our journeying was over,—set down on the field of our labor.

Tengchow is one of the cities officially opened as a port for foreign commerce, under the treaty of Tientsin, which went into actual effect in 1860. Although a place of seventy thousand or more inhabitants, and cleaner and more healthful than most Chinese towns, it has not attracted people from western nations, except a little band of missionaries. The harbor does not afford good anchorage; so it has not been favorable to foreign commerce.

When the Mateers came to Tengchow, missionary operations had already been begun both by the Southern Baptists and the American Presbyterians, though in a very small way. In fact, throughout the whole of China,—according to the best statistics available,—there were then on that immense field only something more than a hundred ordained Protestant missionaries, and as many female missionaries. There were also a few physicians and printers. The number of[71] native preachers was about two hundred and fifty, and of colporteurs about the same. Few of these colporteurs and native preachers were full ministers of the gospel. There were sixteen stations, and perhaps a hundred out-stations. The Chinese converts aggregated thirty-five hundred.

In all Shantung, with its many millions of people, the only places at which any attempt had been made to establish stations were Chefoo and Tengchow, both on the seacoast. The Baptists reached the latter of these cities in the autumn of 1860. They were followed very soon afterward by Messrs. Danforth and Gayley and their wives, of the Presbyterian Board; and the next summer Mr. and Mrs. Nevius came up from Ningpo and joined them.

The natives seemed to be less positively unfriendly than those of many other parts of China are even to this day; yet it was only with protracted and perplexing difficulties that houses in which to live could be obtained. Not long after this was accomplished, Mrs. Danforth sickened and died, and was laid in the first Christian grave at Tengchow. Then came a “rebel,” or rather a robber invasion, that carried desolation and death far and wide in that part of Shantung, and up to the very walls of Tengchow, and left the city and country in a deplorable condition of poverty and wretchedness. Two of the Baptist missionaries went out to parley with these marauders, and were cut to pieces. Next ensued a period during which rumors were rife among the people that[72] the missionaries, by putting medicine in the wells, and by other means, practiced witchcraft; and this kept away many who otherwise might have ventured to hear the gospel, and came near to producing serious danger. After this followed a severe epidemic of cholera, filling the houses and the streets with funerals and with mourning. For a while the missionaries escaped, and did what they could for the Chinese patients; but they were soon themselves attacked; and then they had to give their time and strength to ministering to their own sick, and to burying their own dead. Mr. Gayley first, and then his child, died, and a child of one of the Baptist missionaries. Others were stricken but recovered. The epidemic lasted longest among the Chinese, and this afforded the missionaries opportunity to save many lives by prompt application of remedies; and so tended greatly to remove prejudice and to open the way for the gospel. Ten persons were admitted to membership in the church, the first fruits of the harvest which has ever since been gathering. But a sad depletion of the laborers soon afterward followed. Mrs. Gayley was compelled to take her remaining child, and go home; Mr. Danforth’s health became such that he also had to leave; the health of Mrs. Nevius, which had been poor for a long time, had become worse and, the physician having ordered her away, she and her husband went south. This left Rev. Mr. Mills and his wife as the only representatives of the Presbyterian Board, until the Mateers[73] and Corbetts arrived, about three years after the beginning of the station by Danforth and Gayley.

When the Mateers and Corbetts came they were, of necessity, lodged in the quarters already occupied by the Mills family. These consisted of no less than four small one-story stone buildings clustered near together; one used for a kitchen, another for a dining room, a third for a guest room, and the fourth for a parlor and bedroom. Each stood apart from the other, and without covered connection. The larger of them had been a temple dedicated to Kwan Yin, whom foreigners have called the Chinese god of mercy. According to the universal superstition, the air is full of superhuman spirits, in dread of whom the people of China constantly live, and to avert the displeasure of whom most of their religious services are performed. Kwan Yin, however, is an exception in character to the malignancy of these imaginary deities. There is no end to the myths that are current as to this god, and they all are stories of deliverance from trouble and danger. To him the people always turn with their vows and prayers and offerings, in any time of special need. Partly because the women are especially devoted to this cult, and partly because mercy is regarded by the Chinese as a distinctively female trait, the easy-going mythology of the country has allowed Kwan Yin, in later times, to take the form of a woman. When the missionaries came to Tengchow, the priest in charge of this temple was short of funds, and he was easily induced to rent[74] it to them. He left the images of Kwan Yin in the house. Just what to do with them became a practical question; from its solution a boy who lived with the Mateers learned a valuable lesson. When asked whether the idols could do anybody harm, he promptly replied “No”; giving as a reason that the biggest one that used to be in the room where they were then talking was buried outside the gate! At first a wall was built around the other idols, but by and by they were all taken down from their places and disposed of in various ways. Mateer speaks of a mud image of Kwan Yin, about four feet high, and weighing over two hundred pounds, still standing in his garret in 1870.

The coming of these new mission families into the Mills residence crowded it beyond comfort, and beyond convenience for the work that was imperative. The Mateers had the dining room assigned to them as their abode, this being the best that could be offered. Of course, little effective study could under such conditions be put on the language which must be acquired before any direct missionary labor could be performed. Under the loss of time he thus was suffering, Mateer chafed like a caged lion; and so, as soon as possible, he had another room cleared of the goods of Mr. Nevius, which had been stored there until they could be shipped, and then set to work to build a chimney and to put the place in order for his own occupation. Thus he had his first experience of the dilatory and unskillful operations of native[75] mechanics. The dining room was left without a stove, and, on account of the cold, something had to be done to supply the want. In all Tengchow such a thing as a stove could not be purchased; possibly one might have been secured at Chefoo, but most probably none could have been obtained short of Shanghai. The time had already come for Mateer to exercise his mechanical gifts. He says:

Mr. Mills and I got to work to make a stove out of tin. We had the top and bottom of an old sheet-iron stove for a foundation from which we finally succeeded in making what proves to be a very good stove. We put over one hundred and sixty rivets in it in the process of making it. I next had my ingenuity taxed to make a machine to press the fine coal they burn here, into balls or blocks, so that we could use it. They have been simply setting it with a sort of gum water and molding it into balls with their hands. Thus prepared, it was too soft and porous to burn well. So, as it was the time of the new year, and we could not obtain a teacher, I got to work, and with considerable trouble, and working at a vast disadvantage from want of proper tools, I succeeded in making a machine to press the coal into solid, square blocks. At first it seemed as if it would be a failure, for although it pressed the coal admirably it seemed impossible to get the block out of the machine successfully. This was obviated, however, and it worked very well, and seems to be quite an institution.

This machine subsequently he improved so that a boy could turn out the fuel with great rapidity.

The house, with the best arrangements that could[76] be made, was so overcrowded that relief of some sort was a necessity. The Corbetts, despairing of getting suitable accommodations for themselves, went back to the neighborhood of Chefoo and never returned,—an immense gain for Chefoo, but an equally immense loss for Tengchow. Mills preferred to find a new house for himself and family, and—after the usual delays and difficulties because of the unwillingness of the people and of the officials to allow the hated foreigners to get such a permanent foothold in the place—he at length succeeded. But that was only a remote step toward actual occupation. A Chinese house at its best estate commonly is of one story; and usually has no floor but the ground and no ceiling but the roof, or a flimsy affair made of cornstalks and paper. The windows have a sort of latticework covered with thin paper; and it is necessary to tear down some of the wall, in order to have a sufficient number of them, and to give those which do exist a shape suitable for sash. The doors are low, few in number, rudely made, and in two pieces. A Chinese house may be large enough, but it is usually all in one big room.

It fell to these missionaries to get in order the house which Mills secured; and to do this in the heat of summer, and during a season of almost incessant downpour of rain. They were obliged not merely to supervise most unsatisfactory laborers, but also to do much of the work with their own hands. Eventually Mills fell sick, and Mateer alone was left to complete the[77] job. Yet he records that on the first day of August his associate had gone to his new residence, and he and Julia were happy in the possession of the old temple for their own abode. Unfortunately both of them were taken down with dysentery. Of the day the Mills family left he says in a letter to one of his brothers:

Julia was able to sit up about half the day, and I was no better. You can imagine what a time we had getting our cooking stove up, and getting our cooking utensils out and in order,—no, you can’t either, for you don’t know what a Chinese servant is when of every three words you speak to him he understands one, and misunderstands two. However, we did finally get the machine going, and it works pretty well.

Here they remained three years; and, here, after they had built for themselves a really “new home,” they long continued to carry on their school work.

But experience soon convinced them that a new dwelling house was a necessity. The buildings which they occupied proved to be both unhealthy and unsuitable for the work they were undertaking. The unhealthiness arose partly from the location. The ground in that section of the city is low, and liable to be submerged in the rainy season. A sluggish little stream ran just in front of the place, passing through the wall by a low gate, and if this happened to be closed in a sudden freshet, the water sometimes rose within the houses. There was a floor at least in the main building, but it was laid upon scantlings about[78] four inches thick, these being placed on the ground. The boards were not grooved, and as a consequence while making a tight enough floor in the damp season, in the dry it opened with cracks a quarter to half an inch wide. The walls were of stone, built without lime, and with an excess of mud mortar, and lined on the inside with sun-dried brick. The result of all this was that the dampness extended upward several feet above the floor, and by discoloration showed in the driest season where it had been. The floor could not be raised without necessitating a change in the doors and windows, and it was doubtful whether this could be made with safety to the house. It is no wonder that, under such conditions, Mrs. Mateer began to suffer seriously from the rheumatism that remained with her all the rest of her life. Added to the other discomforts, were the tricks played them by the ceiling. This consisted of cornstalks hung to the roof with strings, and covered on the lower side with paper pasted on. Occasionally a heavy rain brought this ceiling down on the heads of the occupants; and cracks were continually opening, thus rendering it almost impossible to keep warm in cold weather.

An appeal was made to the Board for funds for a new dwelling. Happily the Civil War was about over, and the financial outlook was brightening; so in the course of a few months permission for the new house was granted, and an appropriation was made. The first thing to do was to obtain a suitable piece of ground on which to build. Mateer had in his own[79] mind fixed on a plot adjoining the mission premises, and understood to be purchasable. Such transactions in China seldom move rapidly. He bided his time until the Chinese new year was close at hand, when everybody wants money; then, striking while the iron was hot, he bought the ground.

Long before this consummation he was so confident that he would succeed that, foreseeing that he must be his own architect and superintendent, he wrote home to friends for specific information as to every detail of house-building. Nothing seems to have been overlooked. He even wanted to know just how the masons stand when at certain parts of their work.

Early in February in 1867 he was down at Chefoo purchasing the brick and stone and lime; and so soon as the material was on hand and as the weather permitted, the actual construction was begun. It was an all-summer job, necessitating his subordinating, as far as possible, all other occupations to this. It required a great deal of care and patience to get the foundations put down well, and of a proper shape for the superstructure which was to rest upon them. In his Journal he thus records the subsequent proceedings:

When the level of the first floor was reached I began the brickwork myself, laying the corners and showing the masons one by one how to proceed. I had no small amount of trouble before I got them broken in to use the right kind of trowel, which I had made for the purpose, and then to lay the brick in the right[80] way. I had another round of showing and trouble when the arches at the top of the windows had to be turned, and then the placing of the sleepers took attention; and then the setting of the upper story doors and windows. The work went slowly on, and when the level was reached we had quite a raising, getting the plates and rafters up. All is done, however, and to-day they began to put the roof on.... I hope in a few days I will be able to resume my work again, as all the particular parts are now done, so that I can for the most give it into the hands of the Chinese to oversee.

The early part of November, 1867, the Mateers lived “half in the old and half in the new.” On November 21 they finally moved. That was Saturday. In the night there came up a fierce storm of snow and wind. When they awoke on Sabbath morning, the kitchen had been filled with snow through a door that was blown open. The wind still blew so hard that the stove in the kitchen smoked and rendered cooking impossible. The stair door had not yet been hung, and the snow drifted into the hall and almost everywhere in the house. Stoves could not be set up, or anything else done toward putting things in order, until Thursday, when the storm abated.

But they were in their new house. It was only a plain, two-story, brick building, with a roofed veranda to both stories and running across the front, a hall in the middle of the house with a room on either side, and a dining room and kitchen at the rear. Much[81] of the walls is now covered by Virginia creeper, wistaria, and climbing rose. It is one of those cozy missionary dwellings which censorious travelers to foreign lands visit, or look at from the outside; and then, returning to their own land, they tell about them as evidence of the luxury by which these representatives of the Christian churches have surrounded themselves. Yet if they cared to know, and would examine, they would out of simple regard for the truth, if for no other reason, testify to the necessity of such homes for the health and efficiency of the missionaries, and as powerful indirect helps in the work of social betterment among the natives; and they would wonder at the self-sacrifice and economy and scanty means by which these worthy servants of Christ have managed to make for themselves and their successors such comfortable and tasteful places of abode.

The Mateer house stands on the compound of the mission of the Presbyterian Board, which is inside and close to the water gate in the city wall. About it, as the years went by, were erected a number of other buildings needed for various purposes. The whole, being interspersed with trees, combines to make an attractive scene.

There was nothing pretentious about the house, but it was comfortable, and suited to their wants; and it was all the more dear to them because to such a large degree it had been literally built by themselves. Here for more than thirty-one years Julia presided, and here she died. After that Dr. Mateer’s niece,[82] Miss Margaret Grier, took charge previous to her marriage to Mason Wells, and continued for some years subsequent to that event. To this house still later Dr. Mateer brought Ada, who was his helpmeet in his declining years, and who still survives. This was the home of Dr. Mateer from 1867 to 1904. It was in it and from it as a center that he performed by far the larger part of his life work. Here the Mandarin Revision Committee held its first meeting.

It was always a genuine home of the most attractive type. What that means in a Christian land every reader can in a good degree understand; but where all around is a mass of strange people, saturated with ignorance, prejudice, and the debased morality consequent on idolatry, a people of strange and often repulsive habits of living, the contrast is, as the Chinese visitors often used to say, “the difference between heaven and hell.” But what most of all made this little dwelling at Tengchow a home in the truest sense was the love that sanctified it. Dr. Mateer used in his later years frequently to say: “In the thirty-five years of our married life, there never was a single jar.” Nor was this true because in this sphere the one ruled, and the other obeyed; the secret of it was that between husband and wife there was such complete harmony that each left the other supreme in his or her department.

Here many visitors and guests received a welcome and an entertainment to which such as survive still revert with evidently delightful recollections. This[83] seems to be preëminently true of some who were children at the time when they enjoyed the hospitalities of that home. Possibly some persons who have thought that they knew Dr. Mateer well, may be surprised at the revelation thus made. One of those who has told her experience is Miss Morrison, whose father was a missionary. He died at Peking, and subsequently his widow and their children removed to one of the southern stations of the Presbyterian Mission. It is of a visit to this new home at Tengchow that Miss Morrison writes. She says:

Two of the best friends of our childhood were Dr. Calvin Mateer and his brother John. We spent two summers at Dr. Mateer’s home in Tengchow, seeking escape from the heat and malaria of our more southern region. It could not have been an altogether easy thing for two middle-aged people to take into their quiet home four youngsters of various ages; but Dr. and Mrs. Mateer made us very welcome, and if we disturbed their peace we never knew it. I remember Mrs. Mateer as one of the most sensible and dearest of women, and Dr. Mateer as always ready in any leisure moment for a frolic. We can still recall his long, gaunt figure, striding up and down the veranda, with my little sister perched upon his shoulders and holding on by the tips of his ears. She called him “the camel,” and I imagine that she felt during her rides very much the same sense of perilous delight that she would have experienced if seated on the hump of one of the tall, shaggy beasts that we had seen swinging along, bringing coal into Peking.

Dr. Mateer loved a little fun at our expense. What a beautiful, mirthful smile lit up his rugged features[84] when playing with children! He had what seemed to us a tremendous ball,—I suppose that it was a football,—which he used to throw after us. We would run in great excitement, trying to escape the ball, but the big, black thing would come bounding after us, laying us low so soon as it reached us. Then with a few long steps he would overtake us, and beat us with his newspaper till it was all in tatters. Then he would scold us for tearing up his paper. I remember not quite knowing whether to take him in earnest, but being reassured so soon as I looked up into the laughing face of my older sister.

Of other romps she also tells at length. Several old acquaintances speak of his love of children, and of his readiness to enter into the playfulness of their young lives. He dearly loved all fun of an innocent sort; perhaps it is because of the contrast with his usual behavior that so many persons seem to put special emphasis on this feature of his character.

In those early days Pei-taiho in the north, and Kuling and Mokansan in the south, had not been opened as summer resorts. Chefoo and Tengchow were the only places available for such a purpose, and there were in neither of them any houses to receive guests, unless the missionaries opened theirs. Tengchow became very popular, on account of the beauty of its situation, the comparative cleanness of the town, and the proximity to a fine bathing beach. As a usual thing, if one mentions Tengchow to any of the old missionaries, the remark is apt promptly to follow: “Delightful place! I spent a summer there[85] once with Dr. Mateer.” Pleasant as he made his own home to his little friends, and to veterans and recruits, he was equally agreeable in the homes of others who could enter into his spheres of thought and activity. He was often a guest in the house of Dr. Fitch and his wife at Shanghai, while putting his books through the press. He was resident for months in the China Inland Mission Sanitarium, and in the Mission Home at Chefoo. Dr. Fitch and his wife, and Superintendent Stooke of the Home, tell with evident delight of his “table talk,” and of other ways by which he won their esteem and affection.

When the summer guests were flown from Tengchow, the missionaries were usually the entire foreign community,—a condition of things bringing both advantages and disadvantages as to their work. On the one hand, the cause which they represented was not prejudiced by the bad lives of certain foreigners coming for commercial or other secular purposes from Christian lands. On the other hand, they were left without things that would have ministered immensely to their convenience and comfort, and which they often sadly needed for their own efficiency, and for their health and even for their lives. This was largely due to the tedious and difficult means of communication with the outside world. For instance, it was six weeks until the goods which the Mateers left behind them at Chefoo were delivered to them at Tengchow. Letters had to be carried back and forth between Tengchow and Chefoo, the distributing[86] point, by means of a private courier. When, by and by, the entire band joined together and hired a carrier to bring the mail once a week, this seemed a tremendous advance. The cost of a letter to the United States was forty-five cents.

But the most serious of all their wants was competent medical attention. How Mateer wrote home, and begged and planned, and sometimes almost scolded, about sending a physician to reinforce their ranks! In the meantime they used domestic remedies for their own sick, or sent them overland to Chefoo, or in case of dire necessity brought up a physician from that city. Mateer soon found himself compelled to attempt what he could medically and surgically for himself and wife, and also for others, and among these the poor native sufferers. One of his early cases was a terribly burnt child whom he succeeded in curing; and another was a sufferer from lockjaw, who died in spite of all he could do; and still another case was of a woman with a broken leg. He tried his hand at pulling a tooth for his associate, Mr. Mills, but he had to abandon the effort, laying the blame on the miserable forceps with which he had to operate. Later he could have done a better job, for he provided himself with a complete set of dental tools, not only for pulling teeth and for filling them, but also for making artificial sets. All of these he often used. On his first furlough he attended medical lectures at Philadelphia and did a good deal of dissection. A closet in the new house held a stock of[87] medicines, and by administering them he relieved much suffering, and saved many lives, especially in epidemics of cholera. The physicians who, in response to the appeals of the missionaries, were first sent to the station at Tengchow did not remain long; and for many years the most of the medicine administered came out of the same dark closet under the stairs of “the New Home.”

We have now reached a stage in this narration where the order of time can no longer be followed, except in a very irregular manner. We must take up distinct phases of Mateer’s life and work, as separate topics, and so far as practicable consider each by itself. This is not at all because in him there was any lack of singleness of aim or of persistence. This man, from the time when he began his labors in China until he finished his course, without interruption, put his strength and personality into the[89] evangelization of the people of that great empire. But in doing this he found it necessary to follow along various lines, often contemporaneously, though never out of sight of any one of them. For our purpose it is best that to some extent they should be considered separately.

But before we proceed further it appears desirable to seek an acquaintance with his inner life. By this I do not mean his native abilities, or his outward characteristics as these were known and read by all men who came much into contact with him. It is from the soul life, and especially the religious side of it, that it seems desirable to lift the veil a little. This in the case of anyone is a delicate task, and ought to be performed with a good deal of reserve. In the instance now in hand there is special difficulty. Mateer never, either in speech or in writing, was accustomed to tell others much about his own inward experiences. For a time in his letters and in his Journal he occasionally breaks over this reticence a little; but on November 27, 1876, he made the last entry in the Journal; and long before this he had become so much occupied with his work that he records very little concerning his soul life. Still less had he to say on that subject in his letters; and as years went by, his occupations compelled him to cut off as much correspondence as practicable, and to fill such as he continued with other matters. Nothing like completeness consequently is here undertaken or is possible.

A notion that is current, especially among “men[90] of the world,” is that a missionary is almost always a sentimental dreamer who ignores the stern realities of life. It has been my work to train a good many of those who have given themselves to this form of Christian service, and to have a close acquaintance with a good many more; and I cannot now recall one of whom such a characteristic could be honestly affirmed. I have in mind a number of whom almost the opposite is true. Certainly if to carry the gospel into the dark places of the earth with the conviction of its ultimate triumph is to be called dreaming, then every genuine missionary is a sentimentalist and a dreamer; and Mateer was one of them. But in meeting the experiences of life and in doing his work, he was about as far removed from just accusation of this sort as anyone could be. Indeed, he was such a matter-of-fact man that his best friends often wished that he were less so. I have carefully gone over many thousands of pages of his Journal and of his letters and papers, and I recall only one short paragraph that savors of sentimentality. It is so exceptional that it shall have a place here. In a letter written to a friend (Julia, I suspect), in the spring of 1861, he says:

I have lived in the country nearly all my life, and I much prefer its quiet beauty. I love to wander at this season over the green fields, and listen to the winds roaring through the young leaves, and to sit down in the young sunshine of spring under the lee of some sheltering bank or moss-covered rock. I love to think of the past and the future, and, thus meditating, to gather up courage for the stern realities of life.

This is not very distressingly Wertherian, and surely ought not, ever after, to be laid up against the young man, the fountain of whose thoughts may at that season have been unsealed by love.

But we sadly miss the truth if we infer that, because he was so matter-of-fact in his conduct, he was without tenderness of heart or depth of feeling. Dr. Goodrich in his memorial article in the “Chinese Recorder” of January, 1909, says of him:

I do not remember to have heard him preach, in English or Chinese, when his voice did not somewhere tremble and break, requiring a few moments for the strong man to conquer his emotion and proceed. His tenderness was often shown in quiet ways to the poor and unfortunate, and he frequently wept when some narrative full of pathos and tears was read. The second winter after the Boxer year the college students learned to sing the simple but beautiful hymn he had just translated, “Some one will enter the Pearly Gate.” One morning we sang the hymn at prayers. Just as we were ending, I looked around to see if he were pleased with their singing. The tears were streaming down his face.

This sympathetic tenderness was as much a part of his nature as was his rugged strength.... He dearly loved little children, and easily won their affection. Wee babies would stretch out their tiny arms to him, and fearlessly pull his beard, to his great delight.

His students both feared him and loved him, and they loved him more than they feared him; for, while he was the terror of wrongdoers and idlers, he was yet their Great-heart, ready to forgive and[92] quick to help. How often have we seen Dr. Mateer’s students in his study, pouring out their hearts to him and receiving loving counsel and a father’s blessing! He loved his students, and followed them constantly as they went out into their life work.

A lady who was present tells that when the first of his “boys” were ordained to the ministry he was so overcome that the tears coursed down his cheeks while he charged them to be faithful to their vows.

His mother’s love he repaid with a filial love that must have been to her a source of measureless satisfaction. Julia could not reasonably have craved any larger measure of affection than she received from him as her husband; and later, Ada entered into possession of the same rich gift. One of the things that touched him most keenly when he went away to China was his separation from brothers and sisters, toward whom he continued to stretch out his beneficent hand across the seas.

He was a man who believed in the necessity of regeneration by the Holy Spirit in order to begin a genuinely Christian life. This is one of those great convictions which he never questioned, and which strengthened as he increased in age. When he united with the church in his nineteenth year, he thereby publicly declared that he was sufficiently sure that this inward change had passed upon him to warrant him in enrolling himself among the avowed followers of Christ. But of any sudden outward religious conversion he was not conscious, and made no profession.[93] In the brief autobiographical sketch previously quoted he says:

I had a praying father and mother, and had been faithfully taught from my youth. I cannot tell when my religious impressions began. They grew up with me, but were very much deepened by the faithful preachings of Rev. I. N. Hays, pastor of the church of Hunterstown, especially in a series of meetings held in the winter of 1852-3.

As to his external moral conduct there was no place for a visible “conversion”; he had no vicious habits to abandon, no evil companions from whom to separate himself. It was on the inner life that the transformation was wrought, but just when or where he could not himself tell,—an experience which as to this feature has often been duplicated in the children of godly households.

The impression which I formed of him while associated with him in college was that he lived uprightly and neglected no duty that he regarded as obligatory on him. I knew that he went so far beyond this as to be present at some of the religious associations of the students, such as the Brainard Society, and a little circle for prayer; and that he walked a couple of miles into the country on Sabbath morning to teach a Bible class in the Chartiers church. If I had been questioned closely I probably would have made a mistake, not unlike that into which in later years those who did not penetrate beneath the surface of his life may easily have fallen. I would have said[94] that the chief lack in his piety was as to the amount of feeling that entered into it. I would have said that he was an honest, upright Christian; but that he needed to have the depths of his soul stirred by the forces of religion in order that he might become what he was capable of, for himself and for others. Possibly such an expression concerning him at that time of life might not have been wholly without warrant; but in later years it certainly would have been a gross misjudgment, and while I was associated with him in college and seminary it was far less justified than I imagined.

On October 13, 1856, he began the Journal which, with interruptions, he continued for twenty years. In the very first entry he gives his reasons for keeping this record, one of which he thus states:

I will also to some extent record my own thoughts and feelings; so that in after years I can look back and see the history of my own life and the motives which impelled me in whatever I did,—the dark and the bright spots, for it is really the state of one’s mind that determines one’s depressions or enjoyments.

He records distinctly that the Journal was written for his own eye alone. One in reading it is surprised at the freedom with which occasionally he passes judgment, favorable and unfavorable, on people who meet him on his way. Concerning himself also he is equally candid. Most that he has to say of himself relates to his outward activities, but sometimes he draws aside the veil and reveals the inmost secrets[95] of his soul and of his religious life. As a result we discover that it was by no means so calm as we might suppose from looking only at the surface. In this self-revelation there is not a line that would be improper to publish to the world. A few selections are all that can be given here. A certain Saturday preceding the administration of the Lord’s Supper was kept by himself and other college students as a fast day, and after mentioning an address to which he had listened, and which strongly appealed to him, he goes on to say:

I know that I have not been as faithful as I should. Though comparatively a child in my Christian life, as it is little more than a year since I was admitted to the church, yet I have come to the table of the Lord with my faith obscured, my heart cold and lifeless, without proper self-examination and prayer to God for the light of his countenance. I have spent this evening in looking at my past life and conversation, and in prayer to God for pardon and grace to help. My past life appears more sinful than it has ever done. My conduct as a Christian, indeed, in many things has been inconsistent. Sin has often triumphed over me and led me captive at its will. I have laid my case before God, and asked him to humble me, and prepare me to meet my Saviour aright. O that God would meet me at this time, and show me the light of his countenance, and give me grace and strength; that for the time to come I might lay aside every weight and the sins that do so easily beset me, and run with patience the race that is set before me! There seems to be some unusual interest manifested by some just now; so that I am not without hope that God will bless us and perhaps do a glorious[96] work among us. Many prayers have this day ascended to God for a blessing, and if we are now left to mourn the hidings of God’s face, it will be because of our sins and our unbelief. I have endeavored to keep this as a true fast day; yet my heart tells me that I have not kept it as I should. Sin has been mingled even in my devotions. Yet I am not without hope, because there is One whose righteousness is all-perfect, whose intercessions are all-prevalent. Blessed be God for his unspeakable gift.

I think that I have never enjoyed a communion season so much.... This day my hopes of heaven have been strengthened, and my faith has been increased; and if I know my own heart, (O that I knew it better!), I have made a more unreserved consecration of myself to God than I have ever done before; and may he grant me grace to live more to his glory!

Surely, the young man who thus opens to our view the secrets of his inner religious life was not lacking seriously in depth of feeling. One is reminded of the Psalmist’s hart panting after the water brooks.

In the seminary he still had seasons of troubled heart-searching and unsatisfied longings for a better Christian life. After reading a part of a book called “The Crucible,” he says:

I have not enjoyed this Sabbath as I should. My own heart is not right, I fear. I am too far from Christ. I am overcome by temptation so often, and[97] then my peace is destroyed, and my access to a throne of grace is hindered. I am ready to exclaim with Paul, “Oh, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver me from this body of death!” Would to God I could also say with the assurance he did: “I thank God, through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

At the same time there is evidence that he was advancing toward a higher stage of religious experience, and that he was leaving behind him the elements of repentance and faith, and going on toward “perfection.” He reads the Life of Richard Williams, the Patagonian missionary, and then sits down and writes:

He was a wonderful man; had a wonderful life. His faith transcends anything I have ever had. His communion with God was constant and joyous, at times rising to such a pitch that, in his own words, “he almost imagined himself in heaven.” His resignation to God’s will and consecration to his service were complete in the highest. In his life and in his death is displayed in a marvelous manner the power of God’s grace. Reduced almost to the certainty of death by scurvy, in a little, uncomfortable barge or float, with scarce any provisions, far from all human help, in the midst of storms and cold, this devoted man reads God’s Word, prays to him from his lowly couch, and deliberately declares that he would not exchange places with any man living! What godlike faith! What a sublime height to reach in Christian life in this world! I am more and more convinced that our enjoyment of God and sweet sense of the presence of Christ as well as our success in glorifying God depends entirely on the measure of our[98] consecration to him, our complete submission of our wills to his. My prayer is for grace thus to consecrate and submit myself to his will. Then I shall be happy.

I do not think that Mateer had any disposition to follow in the footsteps of Williams by tempting Providence through doubtful exposure of his life and health to danger; it was the consecration to the service of God that he coveted. He seems about this time to have made a distinct advance in the direction of an increasing desire to give himself up wholly to the service of his divine Master, and to submit himself entirely to the will of God. A most severe test of this came to him in the questions of his duty as to foreign missions. First, it was whether he ought to go on this errand, and whether he was willing. Nor was it an easy thing for him to respond affirmatively. He was a strong man, and conscious of his strength. For him to go to the unevangelized in some distant part of the world was to put aside almost every “fond ambition” that had hitherto attracted him in his plans for life. Opportunities to do good were abundantly open to him in this country. Tender ties bound his heart to relatives and friends, and the thought of leaving them with little prospect of meeting them again in this world was full of pain. To go as a missionary was a far more severe ordeal fifty years ago than it is in most cases to-day. Bravely and thoroughly, however, he met the issue. Divine grace was sufficient for him. He offered himself[99] to the Board and was accepted. Then followed another test of his consecration just as severe. For a year and a half he had to wait before he ascertained that after all he was to be sent. There were times when his going seemed to be hopeless; and he had to learn to bow in submission to what seemed the divine will, though it almost broke his heart. When, late in 1862, one of the secretaries told him that unless a way soon opened he had better seek a permanent field at home, he says in his Journal:

It seems as if I cannot give it up. I had such strong faith that I should yet go.... I had a struggle to make up my mind, and now I cannot undo all that work as one might suppose. What is it? Why is it, that my most loved and cherished plan should be frustrated? God will do right, however; this I know. Help me, gracious God, to submit cheerfully to all thy blessed will; and if I never see heathen soil, keep within me at home the glorious spirit of missions.

It was a severe school of discipline to which he was thus sent, but he learned his lesson well.

One cannot think it at all strange that under the conditions of the outward voyage he suffered at times from spiritual depression. November 19, 1863, he made this entry in his Journal:

Spent the forenoon in prayer and in reading God’s Word, in view of my spiritual state. I have felt oppressed with doubts and fears for some time, so that I could not enjoy myself in spiritual exercises as I should. I have had a flood of anxious thoughts[100] about my own condition and my unfitness for the missionary work. I began the day very much cast down; but, blessed be God, I found peace and joy and assurance in Christ. In prayer those expressions in the 86th Psalm, “ready to forgive,” and “plenteous in mercy,” were brought home to my heart in power. I trust I did and do gladly cast myself renewedly on Jesus, my Saviour. Just before dinner time I went out on deck to walk and meditate. Presently my attention was attracted by Georgie (Mrs. B’s little girl) singing in her childish manner the words of the hymn, “He will give you grace to conquer.” Over and over again she said it as if singing to herself. They were words in season. My heart caught the sound gladly, and also repeated it over again and again, “He will give you grace to conquer.” I thought of the parallel Scripture, “My grace is sufficient for thee.” The Spirit of God was in those words, and they were precious. My fears were all gone. I was ready to go, in the strength of this word, to China, and undertake any work God should appoint. I went to my room, and with a full heart thanked God for this consolation. Out of the mouth of babes thou hast ordained strength. I am glad that I gave this season to special seeking of God; it has done me good. Lord, make the influence of it to be felt. I had much wandering of mind at first, but God mercifully delivered me from this. O, that I could maintain habitually a devotional spirit, and live very near to the blessed Jesus!

Though he but dimly understood it then, the Lord was in the school of experience disciplining him in qualities which in all his subsequent work he needed to put into exercise: to rest on the promises of God[101] in darkness, to wait patiently under delays that are disappointing, and to endure in the spirit of Christ the contradictions of the very sinners for whose higher welfare he was willing to make any sacrifice, however costly to himself.

On his field of labor he was too busy with his duties as a missionary to write down much in regard to his own inner life. Nor is there any reason to regard this as a thing greatly to be regretted. The fact is that during the decade which extended from his admission to membership in the church to his entrance on his work in China, he matured in his religious experience to such a degree that subsequently, though there was increasing strength, there were no very striking changes on this side of his character. In the past he had set before himself, as a mark to be attained, the thorough consecration of himself to the service of God, and it was largely because by introspection he recognized how far he fell short of this that he sometimes had been so much troubled about his own spiritual condition. Henceforth this consecration, as something already attained, was constantly put into practice. He perhaps searched himself less in regard to it; he did his best to live it.

In connection with this, two characteristics of his inner life are so evident as to demand special notice. One of these was his convictions as to religious truth. He believed that the Scriptures of the Old and New Testament are the Word of God, and he was so sure that this is radically essential in the faith of a[102] missionary that he was not ready to welcome any recruit who was adrift on this subject. He believed also with like firmness in the other great evangelical doctrines set forth in the symbols and theologies of the orthodox churches. His own creed was Calvinistic and Presbyterian; yet he was no narrow sectarian. He was eager to coöperate with the missionaries of other denominations than his own; all that he asked was that they firmly hold to what he conceived to be the essentials of Christianity. Because he believed them so strongly, these also were the truths which he continually labored to bring home to the people. In a memorial published by Dr. Corbett concerning him, he says:

Nearly thirty years ago I asked an earnest young man who applied for baptism, when he first became interested in the truth. He replied: “Since the day I heard Dr. Mateer preach at the market near my home, on the great judgment, when everyone must give an account to God. His sermon made such an impression on my mind that I had no peace until I learned to trust in Jesus as my Saviour.” An able Chinese preacher, who was with me in the interior, when the news of Dr. Mateer’s death reached us, remarked, “I shall never forget the wonderful sermon Dr. Mateer preached a few weeks ago in the Chinese church at Chefoo, on conscience.” This was the last sermon he was permitted to preach. Salvation through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, man’s sinfulness and need of immediate repentance, and faith, and the duty of every Christian to live a holy life and constantly bear witness for Jesus, were the great[103] truths he always emphasized. He died in the faith of the blessed gospel he so ably preached for nearly half a century.

Hand in hand with these great convictions went an absolute loyalty to duty. To this he subordinated everything else. The reason why he toiled with his own hands, on buildings, on machinery, on apparatus, was not because he would rather do this than preach Christ, but because he was convinced that the situation was such that he could not with a good conscience refuse to perform that labor. It was not his preference to give long years to the making of the Mandarin version of the Scriptures; he did it because plainly it was his duty to engage in this wearisome task. He fought with his pen his long battle for Shen as the word to be used in Chinese as the name of God; and even when left in a commonly conceded minority, still refused to yield, only because he believed that in so doing he was standing up for something that was not only true but of vital importance to Christianity in China. His unwillingness under protracted pressure to introduce English into the curriculum of the Tengchow school and college, the heartbreak with which he saw the changes made in the institution after its removal to Wei Hsien, were all due not to obstinancy but to convictions of duty as he saw it.

A man of this sort,—strong in intellect, firm of will, absolutely loyal to what he conceives to be his duty,—travels a road with serious perils along its line. A loss of balance may make of him a bigot or a dangerous[104] fanatic. Even Dr. Mateer had “the defects of his qualities.” He did not always make sufficient allowance for persons who could not see things just as he did. He sometimes unwarrantably questioned the rectitude of others’ conduct when it did not conform to his own conception of what they ought to have done. But these defects were not serious enough greatly to mar his usefulness or to spoil the beauty of his character. His wisdom as a rule, his rectitude, his entire consecration to the service of God in the work of missions, his wealth of heart, after all, were so unquestionable that any wounds he inflicted soon healed; and he was in an exceptional degree esteemed and revered by all who came into close touch with him.

Was Dr. Mateer a very “spiritually-minded man”? It is not strange that this question was raised, though rarely, by some one who saw only the outside of his life, and this at his sterner moments. He even did much of his private praying when he was walking up and down in his room, or taking recreation out on the city wall, and when no one but wife or sister knew what he was doing. One had to be admitted to the inner shrine of his heart to appreciate the fervor of his piety.

The first thing which Mateer set himself to do, after he arrived at Tengchow, was to acquire the language of the people. The difficulties which the Chinese tongue presents to the foreigner are too well known to need recital here, nor was it easier to Mateer than to other persons possessed of good ability and thorough education. In January, 1902, at the request of Secretary Speer, he prepared for the use of the Board of Missions a paper on the subject of “Missionaries and the Language.” In it he does not profess to be telling his own experience, and yet it is largely an exhibit of what he had himself done. In the introductory paragraph he says:

One of the tasks, and to many one of the trials, of missionary life, is the learning of a new, and often a difficult language. So far as the message of the gospel is concerned, the tongue is tied until the language is learned. I set it down as a first principle, that every[106] missionary should go out with a distinct and fixed determination to learn the language and to learn it well. Let there be no shrinking from it, no half measures with it. Laxity of this purpose in this matter is unworthy of anyone who is called to be a missionary. When I hear a young missionary, after a few weeks or months on the field, saying, “I hate this language; who can learn such outlandish gibberish as this?” my opinion of his fitness for the work at once suffers a heavy discount. Every young missionary should consider it his or her special business to fall in love with the language as quickly as possible.

Then he proceeds to lay down certain general principles and thoroughly to elaborate them; insisting that everyone can learn the tongue of a people, not merely well enough to make some sort of stagger at the use of it, but thoroughly; and giving directions as to the best method of accomplishing this result. At the same time he recognizes the fact that by no means all missionaries are able to acquire the language so perfectly that they are competent to contribute to the permanent Christian literature of the country.

In his case there were exceptional difficulties as to this preliminary work. Printed helps were few and not very good. Competent native teachers were almost impossible to obtain at Tengchow, and were liable at any time to abandon their work. Besides, so long as the Mateers were hampered by their narrow quarters, along with other missionaries, in the old temple, and while he was compelled to give almost the whole of his strength to the repairs and construction of buildings,[107] for him to accomplish what he otherwise might have done in this line was impossible. Under date of December 24, 1864, almost a year after his arrival at Tengchow, he wrote in his Journal:

I have been studying pretty regularly this week, yet to look back over it, I cannot see that I have accomplished much. Learning Chinese is slow work. I do not wonder that the Chinese have never made great advances in learning. It is such a herculean task to get the language that a man’s best energies are gone by the time he has himself prepared to work. It is as if a mechanic should spend half his life, or more, in getting his tools ready. Before I came to China I feared that I would have trouble acquiring the language, and I find my fears were well grounded.

This confession is very notable, coming as it does from the pen of him who subsequently, as one of his associates said after his death, “became not only the prince of Mandarin speakers among foreigners in China, but also so grasped the principles of the language as to enable him in future years to issue the most thoroughgoing and complete work on the language, the most generally used text-book for all students of the spoken tongue”; and it may be added, who was selected by the missionaries of all China, in conference, to be chairman of the committee to revise the Mandarin version of the Scriptures, and who in all that work was easily the chief. The diligence with which he improved every spare moment in the study of the language is shown by a letter of Mrs.[108] Julia Mateer, in which she writes of reading aloud to her husband in the evening while he practiced writing Chinese characters.

Really he was making better progress than probably he himself imagined. On January 14, 1865, he began to go regularly into the school, to teach the children a phonetic method of writing the Chinese characters. He records that on February 7 he took charge of the morning prayers, and adds:

It seemed very strange indeed to me to pray in Chinese, and no less awkward than strange. I found, however, less embarrassment in doing it than I at first supposed. I might easily have begun some time ago, but our school-teacher performs the duty very acceptably, and so I left the matter to him until I was fully prepared. I trust that it will not be long till I will be at home in using Chinese.

Tengchow is the seat of one of the competitive literary examinations for students, and at the season when these are held thousands of candidates present themselves. Under date of March 11, of that year, he says:

A goodly number of the scholars have come to see me, to get books and to hear “the doctrine.” I have had opportunity to do considerable preaching, which I have not failed to embrace. Some of them understood me quite well. I find a great difference between talking to them and to the illiterate people. They understand me a great deal better. Most of them listen with attention, and some of them with evident[109] interest. They all treated me with respect. I gave them books; they promising to read them, and to come again at the next examination.

These occasions continued to offer like opportunity in succeeding years, and he took all the advantage of it that he could. Only rarely did students give him any cause for annoyance. On May 22 he went to a fair that was held just outside one of the gates, and tried his hand at preaching to that miscellaneous audience in the open air. In the forenoon he talked himself tired, and returned in the afternoon to repeat the effort, but with what effect he could not tell. Rain came on and he had to stop. He added in his Journal, “Oh, how I wish that I could use Chinese as I can English,—then I could preach with some comfort!” On Sabbath, June 19, he preached his first sermon before the little Chinese church organized at Tengchow. The notice he had was short, Mills having been taken ill, and sending him word that he must fill the pulpit. He says: “I could not prepare a sermon, and translate it carefully and accurately. I had just to get ready some phrases, and statements of the main points, and depend on my Chinese for the rest. I got on better than I expected I should, though to me at least it seemed poor enough.” We need not follow the process of his acquisition of the language any further, except to say that he never ceased to study it, and to seek to improve in it, although he came by and by to be able to use it, in both speaking and writing, so well that the Chinese often took more pleasure[110] in hearing and reading his productions than if he had been a native.

As the senior missionary, Mills had charge of the church organized at Tengchow, and any preaching that Mateer did in it was occasional. It was not long before a movement was organized for evangelistic work on the streets, and he gladly took part in that method of work. He was anxious also to obtain a room which he could use as a chapel. His first efforts to secure such a building were rendered futile on account of the intense opposition of the people, and the disinclination, or worse, of the officials to enforce his legal rights in this matter, under the treaty. It was not until the middle of April, 1867, that he succeeded in opening a room where he and his Chinese assistant could have a regular place for preaching and selling books. It stood on a principal street, and was, therefore, as to location, well suited for the work to which it was set apart. The opening of it was the occasion for the gathering of a crowd of rowdies who threw stones at the doors, and otherwise created disturbance; but prompt arrest of the ringleader and the haling of him before a magistrate brought the rowdyism to a close. Of course, the school afforded another local opportunity for evangelization, and it was from the very first effectually employed.

Tengchow itself was not very responsive to the gospel. The demand for books was soon satisfied to such an extent that sales became small. The novelty of street preaching and of the chapel services[111] gradually was exhausted. The little church did not attract many on the Sabbath, except the regular attendants. True, a city of so many inhabitants might seem—notwithstanding such limitations as existed—a sufficient field for all the labor that could be put upon it by the little band of missionaries located there. But beyond the walls was all the rest of the province of Shantung, with none to evangelize it save the missionaries at Chefoo and Tengchow. That province is in area about one-third larger than the State of Pennsylvania; and it now has somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty millions of inhabitants, mostly scattered in innumerable villages, though frequently also concentrated in cities. The climate is about that of Kentucky, and the productions of the soil are not very different. Part of the surface of the country is hilly and some of it rises into mountains of moderate height; but most of it is level or slightly rolling. Writing to one of the secretaries of the Board, under date of May 10, 1869, Mateer thus expressed himself as to the strategic importance of Shantung in the tremendous enterprise of evangelizing China:

I think it is almost universally admitted that Tsinan fu [the capital, situated about three hundred miles southwest of Tengchow] offers the most promising field for missionary effort in China. The region in which this city lies is the religious center of China. Here both the great sages of China, Confucius and Mencius, were born. At Tai An, a short way to the[112] south, the great religious festival of China is held, and there are unmistakable evidences that there is a religious element in the people of this province found nowhere else in China. I feel like saying with all my might, Let the Presbyterian Church strike for this province. It has given both religion and government to China in the ages that are past, and it is going to give Christianity to China in the future.

These pioneer missionaries in Shantung as promptly as possible sought, first by itineration, and later by opening new stations, to carry the gospel far and wide over the province. In this they labored under one serious inconvenience from which their brethren in much of south China are exempt. Down there it is easy to travel extensively on the rivers and the numerous canals. In Shantung the one great river is the Hoang, or Yellow, running from the west toward the east; and the one important canal is the Grand, running north and south; and both of these are so far remote from Chefoo and Tengchow that in the itineration of the missionaries from these places they were of little use. As a consequence they had to adopt the other methods of travel customary in that region. Even to-day, though a railway runs from the coast at Kiaochou, across Shantung to Tsinan fu, and another across the west end of the province and passing through Tsinan fu is almost completed, much of the territory is no more accessible than half a century ago. The traveler can hire a mule, or more probably a donkey, and—throwing his bedding across[113] the packsaddle—make his way, with the owner of the animal running along as driver, to the place where, if he proceeds farther, he must hire a second mule or donkey; and so on to the end of his journey. One can also travel by wheelbarrow. These conveyances are considered to be quite genteel, and are much patronized by Chinese women. The wheels are big and clumsy, and, being innocent of oil, creak fearfully, and as the wheelbarrows are without springs the passenger is jolted excruciatingly. They are propelled by a man pushing by the handles, and often with the aid of another, and sometimes a donkey in front, and it may be with a sail to catch the wind. In the hilly regions the shentza, or mule litter, is common. In describing this conveyance Mateer said in one of his Sunday-school letters:

The motion is various and peculiar. Sometimes the mules step together, and sometimes they don’t. Now you have a plunging motion like the shaking of a pepper box, then comes a waving motion like the shaking of a sieve; and then a rolling motion like the rocking of a cradle, and then by turns these various motions mix up and modify each other in endless variety. I have often thought that if a man had a stiff joint, one of these shentzas would be a good thing to shake it loose. You are completely at the mercy of these two mules. If you are sitting up you think that you would be more comfortable lying down, and if you are lying down you think that you would be more comfortable sitting up. There is no relief from incessant shaking but to get out and walk.

The most genteel mode of travel is a two-wheeled cart, provided always that the track called a road is wide and level enough to permit it to be used. I fall back on the Sunday-school letter for a description of it:

A Chinese cart is heavy and clumsy to the last degree. It has no springs, no seat, no cushions, and is only wide enough for one to sit in it. The only way to keep your arms and head from being broken by the top, is to wedge yourself in with quilts and pillows. Passenger carts are usually drawn by two mules, one in the shafts and the other directly in front, hitched by two long ropes to the axle—one passing on each side of the shaft mule. The driver either walks, or rides on the back part of the shafts.... I took one ride in one of these big carts, which I shall remember while I live. We had all gone to a country station, one hundred and twenty miles from Tengchow, to a meeting of Presbytery. After Presbytery we wished to go on to another station forty miles distant. There had been a great rain, and the ground was soft, and we could get no conveyance. At length we got a big cart to carry our luggage and Dr. Mills and myself. For it they rigged up a top made of sticks and pieces of matting. The team consisted of a mule, a horse, and two oxen, with two drivers. Mrs. Mateer had a donkey to ride, and Mrs. Capp had a sedan chair. Dr. Mills and myself took turns in walking with the native elder and assistant. When we got all our effects, bedding, cooking utensils and so forth, in the cart there was only room for one to sit, and the other had to lie down. The first day we dragged through the soft earth fifteen miles, but in order to do it we had to travel an hour after night. It[115] was pitch dark and we had no lantern. We came very near losing our way, and finally had no small trouble in reaching an inn, and when we did reach it what a fuss there was before we got stowed in and got our suppers! We obtained a small room for the ladies, but Dr. Mills and I did not fare so well. We had to sleep on the ground in a sort of shed which had no doors. The next day we got an early start, and found the roads a little better, and managed to make the other twenty-five miles. During the day we crossed a sandy river which was swollen by the rains, and there was some danger that we might stick fast in the sand. The native assistant crowded into the cart. The elder put one foot on the end of the axle, which in a Chinese cart projects several inches beyond the hub, and supported himself by holding on to the side of the cart. The second driver perched himself in the same way on the other end of the axle. The chief driver stood erect on the shafts, astride of the shaft mule. He flourished his whip with one hand and gesticulated with the other, and both drivers hurrahed at the top of their voices. The team got excited, and with heads and tails erect,—with a splash and a dash,—we went safely through.

There is one other mode of travel, and perhaps then still the most common of all, even with missionaries when itinerating, and that is to walk. When the traveler on foot comes to a river if he has long patience he may be ferried across; but if the stream is not very deep he may have to wade. Mateer, however, had a good strong physique and simple tastes, and was entirely free from any disposition to fret over small annoyances. In those earlier itinerating days he[116] cheerfully took his full share in roughing it with other missionaries out in the province. He repeatedly took trips when all the provision he made for eating was a spoon and a saltcellar; the food he ate was such as he got at the inns and from place to place. His experiences in this line of evangelistic efforts had an important influence on his work in the school and the college. Certainly it was a great help toward that remarkable acquaintance with colloquial Chinese which is shown in his literary labors.

His first trip to the country was made on October 14, 1864, and therefore before he had learned the language sufficiently to enable him to do much missionary work. In reality it was just a visit by the entire foreign force stationed by both the Baptists and Presbyterians at Tengchow out to a Chinese Christian residing ten miles away. In a measure, however, it was a typical journey. The roads were execrably bad, and Mateer and another missionary had one mule between them, so that each walked half the way. On August 22 of the ensuing year he, and Corbett,—who had come up for the purpose,—started on a genuine itinerating tour. It was in one particular an unfavorable time. A Chinese inn at any season is apt to be uncomfortable enough to a person who has been accustomed to the conveniences and comforts of western civilization. In the Sunday-school letter already quoted Mateer said:

The inns in China are various in size, but similar in style. You enter through a wide doorway which is in[117] fact the middle of a long, low house fronting on the street. On the one side of this door, or passageway, is the kitchen, which is usually furnished with one or two kettles, a large water jar, and a few dishes, with a meat-chopper and chopping block. Usually there is a little room partitioned off at the far end, which serves for office and storeroom. On the other side is a wide, raised platform about two feet high, made of mud brick. It answers for the muleteers and humbler guests, to sleep on. Inside of this front building is a court or yard with a long shed at one or both sides, and troughs for feeding mules and donkeys. At the further end of this court, and sometimes at one side, are rooms for guests. These rooms contain no furniture but a table and a bench or two, and sometimes a chair, with a rough board bedstead, or a raised brick platform to take the place of a bedstead. No towel, soap, or other toilet necessaries are furnished. They usually have one washbasin, which is passed round, and is used besides for washing the sore backs of mules, and for such other necessary uses. There are no stoves or other means of warming the rooms. Sometimes they build a fire of straw under those brick bedsteads, which invariably fills the room with smoke. Or, you can order a pan of charcoal, which will fill the room with gas. The houses are all one story and have no ceiling. The rafters are smoked as black as ink, and are always festooned with cobwebs. The rooms never have wooden floors. In the more stylish inns the floors are paved with brick, but in ordinary inns the floors are simply the ground. In the summer fleas and mosquitoes are superabundant, and they attack all comers without respect of persons. Every night there is in the courtyard a musical concert which continues at intervals till morning, and is free[118] to all the guests. The tune is carried by the mules and donkeys, and the scolding and swearing of the muleteers make up the accompaniment. Voices of great excellence are often heard in America, but for real pathos and soul-stirring effect there is nothing like a dozen or two Chinese donkeys, when they strike in together and vie with each other for the preëminence. No common table is set, but meals are prepared to order and served to guests in their rooms. They are generally charged for by the dish.

Unfortunately Mateer and Corbett had selected for their first itineration a time of year when the mosquitoes and fleas and other vermin are at their worst, and they suffered accordingly.

They were gone just four weeks; and during that period they traveled two hundred and twenty-five miles. Much of the time it rained. At Laichow fu for this cause they were detained a week; and they had to lodge in a room whose roof leaked so badly that they had to protect themselves with oilcloths and umbrellas. The water was three feet deep on the floor. One day they crossed twenty-two streams, none of them large, and yet often of such a character as to render passage very troublesome. For a while they had a shentza borne by a couple of crowbait mules, one of which was blind and had the trick of suddenly lying down for a rest, and occasionally fell flat into a mudhole, or tumbled its rider over a steep bank. They met with a variety of treatment from the people, but mostly it was not unfavorable to the prosecution of their work. Foreigners were still a[119] curiosity in the region, and that often attracted a crowd to see them, and to ascertain by hearing and by reading what might be the nature of the Christian doctrine. Once it became necessary for Mateer to use force to repel a man who persistently tried to seize a book. Each of the missionaries preached about forty times, and at all sorts of places. Their largest evident success was in disposing of books; these for the most part by sale, the total of pages distributed amounting to two hundred and seventy-seven thousand. The details of the tour are given in Mateer’s Journal. If preserved, they will one day be of extreme interest to the Christians of China, as records of the very beginnings of the teaching of the gospel in Shantung.

Again, the next spring Mateer and Corbett, accompanied by Chinese assistants, went on another tour of preaching and of book-selling. Mateer left Tengchow on April 5, and reached home on May 19. They started with twenty-eight boxes of books, each weighing about seventy pounds; and, because they had exhausted the supply, they had to turn back before reaching the place to which they had originally intended to go. One of the noteworthy things in their itinerary is that it brought them for the first time to Wei Hsien, now one of the largest of the Presbyterian mission stations in north China, and the site of the College of Arts of the Shantung University; and to Tsingchow fu, the site of the Theological College. In both towns the Presbyterians and the[120] Baptists are united. All that Mateer said in his Journal concerning Wei Hsien is:

We did not go through the city, except the suburbs. The streets were full of people, and they were not sparing in their expressions of enmity and contempt. We saw a great number of elegant memorial arches near Wei Hsien and learned that it is a very wealthy place. This was indicated by the many elegant burying grounds around it, and by the good condition of the walls. The country all around, and indeed most we passed through to-day, was very rich. A man on the road who appeared to know told us that one individual, the richest in the city, was worth three million taels [then more than as many million dollars].

Tsingchow fu receives from him a much more extended notice. He speaks of the city—although very much smaller than evidently it once had been—as still large and filled with business. The surrounding country wins from him great admiration. Indeed, at several places he was much attracted by the prospect which spread itself out before his eyes; and some of it reminded him even of the natural scenery of his “Old Home” in Pennsylvania. Of course, it must not be supposed that all the region they traversed was the equal of this; much of it was far less attractive in almost every particular.

On this journey they had a great variety of experiences, some of them far enough from pleasant. Nearly everywhere they went, curiosity attracted crowds of adults and of children. This seems to have been especially true in the neighborhood of Wei[121] Hsien and Tsingchow fu. At the inns where they stopped, privacy was almost impossible; the people peering in at the windows and bolting into the room they occupied. Sometimes they were compelled to expel the intruders with a dash of water or with an uplifted cane. Harder to bear were the opprobrious epithets applied to them. Mateer said:

Every village I come to, the term, “devil!” “devil!” comes ringing in my ears. Not that they always called it at me, but to one another, to come and see. Frequently, however, it was called out most spitefully, for me to hear. I think that within the last two days I have heard it from at least ten thousand mouths. It is strange how such a term could have gotten such universal currency. It expresses not so much hatred to the gospel as it does the national enmity of the Chinese to foreigners.

Happily at the present time foreigners are seldom saluted by this epithet. At Chang Tsau they had two serious disturbances. The first was caused by some sort of soothsayer, in whom the people had much confidence. While Mateer was surrounded by a crowd of men to whom he was selling books, in rushed this man, brandishing an ugly looking spear; and, using the Chinese expression of rage, “Ah! Ah! I’ll kill you!” he drove the spear straight at Mateer’s breast. In those early days of his missionary work Mateer carried a revolver for self-defense when going to places where he might be attacked, believing that he had a moral right to protect himself from assault by[122] evil-minded persons. On this occasion the revolver was drawn instantly. As the man came closer Mateer seized the spear, and warned the intruder of the consequences if he advanced a step farther. The risk was too great for the courage of the soothsayer, and he went away crestfallen, but cursing the missionary, threatening to return and kill him, and launching his anathemas against anybody who bought the books. After the disturbance the people were not so eager to buy, and an official tried to induce Mateer to cease his efforts, but, partly to show the futility of such interruptions, he continued, until at length weariness compelled him to stop.

The other incident occurred in connection with the selling of books at a market. A man took advantage of a moment when the missionary was receiving pay from a purchaser, and snatched away a book, but Mateer seized and held him until the book was restored. This led to an altercation between the Chinese assistant and the thief, and blows were struck. The disturbance began to spread, and several of the crowd seemed disposed to lay hands on Mateer, when a significant reference to the revolver brought the movement to a prompt termination. In order to show the people that the missionaries were doing only what is lawful under the treaty, and that they would not put up with insult or wrong, they sought satisfaction through the official having jurisdiction, and warned him that the case would be brought to the notice of the American consul at Chefoo.

There is no record of any itineration again until the latter part of February, 1869. That trip was not long in duration or very extensive in its territory. Julia and her sister Maggie accompanied Dr. Mateer and were able to reach large numbers of women with the gospel. July 21 of the same year he and Julia went on a tour of twelve weeks, their main objective being Chow Yuen, where Miao, a zealous young convert, was opening a chapel. The story as to him can most appropriately be told in another chapter.

On November 10 of the same year Dr. Mateer and Julia began a journey which lasted twenty-four days, during which they traveled about two hundred and fifty miles, some of the road being very hilly and rough, and the weather cold. Their course was directed to certain localities where there were converts, and where a beginning had been made by these native Christians to give the gospel to their neighbors. One of these places was Laichow fu, at which two of these had been spreading the light around them, one of them having given a commodious chapel, with a guest room attached, in which the Mateers lodged. During a stay of three days they preached to large numbers; and especially on the last day all opposition was swept away, and men and women came in crowds. In a village in the district of Ping Tu they conducted service in a little chapel on the Sabbath. In a letter to one of the secretaries of the Board he said:

The chapel was so crowded that we were barely able to have any regular service for the benefit of the[124] native Christians. We had finally to postpone our principal service till after night. I baptized five, the four who had previously been accepted, and one other who, though not very well instructed, was so earnest in his profession of faith that we did not feel that it would be right to refuse him. After this the Lord’s Supper was administered. The circumstances made it one of the most interesting services of the kind I have ever been privileged to conduct. At the farthest point at which the gospel has yet got a foothold, in a house set apart by a native Christian for the worship of the true God, the majority of the company having never before participated in such a service, the circumstances were altogether such as to make the occasion one long to be remembered.

On February 13, 1873, he and Crossett began a tour that lasted about three months and carried them far into the interior of Shantung. They traveled in all about a thousand miles, and preached and sold books in over a hundred cities and towns. Once a man threatened Mateer with a manure fork, and once he was struck by a stone thrown in a crowd by some unknown miscreant. The usual epithet for foreigners saluted them; but, on the whole, they escaped any serious molestation. On this trip they visited Tai An, the great temple, and the sacred mountain, and ascended the steps to its summit. For a week they remained preaching in the temple to the crowds. They also went to the tomb of Confucius, and to the magnificent temple dedicated to the sage, in that neighborhood. At that date not many foreigners had[125] seen these Chinese shrines; but now they have been so often described that it would scarcely be justifiable to cite the full and interesting record made by Mateer in his Journal as to what he saw and did at these places. Thence they proceeded as far as the capital, Tsinan fu, where Mateer remained for eighteen days, while Crossett went on a journey still a couple of hundred miles farther to the north and west, in company with an agent of the Scottish Bible Society, which had been canvassing the province for six or eight years. At the close of this tour they regarded the work of book-selling for most of Shantung as so far completed as henceforth to deserve a more subordinate place. During part of his stay at the capital Mateer preached and sold books, and part of the time he remained in his hired lodgings to receive visitors, of whom he had not a few. To him one of the interesting sights was the Yellow River. On their return journey they took in Tsingchow fu, and also Ping Tu, where the Christians then were terrified by persecution.

After this he made only one more exclusively evangelistic itineration. The care of the infant churches and other duties called him to continue to go longer and shorter distances from home; and in connection with this he did a great deal of preaching here and there by the way. For instance, in 1881 he attended a meeting of the Mission at Tsinan fu, and incidentally he preached in a hundred and sixty-three villages. It was travel for the specific purpose[126] of carrying the gospel into wholly unevangelized regions that he ceased to perform. In a friendly letter written to his cousin, Mrs. Gilchrist, as early as June 28, 1875, he said:

The first years I was in China I traveled a good deal, and preached and sold books in the streets. I have not done so much of it the last two or three years, having been more closely engaged in my school. The younger men in the mission have been doing it chiefly. I am preparing a number of books for the press, and this has taken a good deal of time, and will take time in the future.

That final evangelistic itineration was made in 1878, and lasted from the middle of October to the middle of November. It was out toward the general region of Ping Tu and Laichow fu. The party consisted of Mateer and Mills, Mrs. Mateer and Mrs. Shaw, and a couple of Chinese assistants. Mrs. Mateer and Mrs. Shaw visited the native Christians while the men went to districts where there were no churches. In a letter to the Board Mateer said:

We each hired a donkey to carry our bedding and books, while we walked from village to village, and preached in the streets. I preached in this way in one hundred and ninety villages, and Mr. Mills in about as many. We went aside from the great roads into villages never before visited by any foreign missionary. We had audiences of from eight or ten, up to two or three hundred. In many cases we had a goodly proportion of women as hearers. Our reception was very various, for which in most cases we have no means of accounting. In some cases many came[127] out to see and hear us. In other cases no one seemed inclined to pay any attention to us, and a considerable time would elapse before we would succeed in drawing a company to preach to. In one village I failed entirely to get anyone to listen. A goodly number saw us, but they passed by without stopping. One boy ventured to ask where we came from, when instantly a man near by at work reproved him for speaking to us. My assistant and I sat and waited about half an hour, and then went on to the next village. We carried a few books in our hands as a sort of advertisement of our business, and to give to such as would accept them. Sometimes the books were readily accepted, and we could have given away any number; but frequently not a soul would accept a book. No doubt some would have liked very well to have a book, but they were ashamed to accept it from the hated foreigner in the presence of so many of their neighbors and acquaintances. Only in two or three cases was any open hostility shown us, and in these it was confined to two or three individuals who failed to carry the crowd with them, so that in spite of their attempts to scatter our audience we still had plenty of hearers.

Then as to the value of this kind of missionary effort he added an estimate from which he never deviated, and which in substance he continued to repeat:

This method of work is very excellent, and at the same time very laborious. It reaches obscure places, and a class of people—those who stay at home—not otherwise reached. To be successful it must be pursued at a time of year when the people are somewhat at leisure.

The Tengchow School in 1884 was authorized by the Board of Missions to call itself a college. For several years previous to that date it deserved the name because of the work which it was doing in its advanced department. On the other hand, it did not cease at that time to maintain instruction of an elementary and intermediate grade. In the present chapter we will for convenience confine our attention mainly to the twenty years lying between the opening of the school and the formal assumption of the name of a college. Beyond the end of that period lies the story of the institution under the title of the Shantung College, for another twenty years at Tengchow; and since then, of the Shantung Union College, at Wei Hsien.

Under date of April 2, 1864,—less than three months after the Mateers arrived at Tengchow,—Dr. Mateer[129] made this entry in his Journal, “We have it in prospect to establish a school.” Their plan at that time was to leave the Mills family in possession of the old Kwan Yin temple, and to find for themselves another house where they could reside and carry on this new enterprise. But when, during the latter part of that summer, they were left in sole possession of the temple, they proceeded at once so to fit up some of the smaller buildings in the court as to make it possible to accommodate the little school. In September the first term opened, with six little heathen boys, not one of whom had ever been to school before; and with quarters consisting of two sleeping rooms, a kitchen, and a small room for teaching. Chang, who was Mateer’s instructor in Chinese, was set to work also to teach these boys; and a native woman was put in charge of the cooking department. To Julia he always attributed the initiation of this entire work. For the first ten years the school was almost entirely hers, he being otherwise at work. In a conversation with Mrs. Fitch, of Shanghai, many years later he said:

When Julia began the boarding school for boys in Tengchow I thought it a comparatively small work; but as it enlarged, and also deepened, in its influence, I saw it was too much for her strength alone. I knew that we must put our own characters into those boys, and I could do nothing less than give myself to the work she had so begun.

Almost half a century ago, when the school was started, and for some time afterward, mission boards[130] and missionaries had not settled down into their present attitude toward education, lower or higher, as an agency in the evangelization of the non-Christian world. There were some very earnest and intelligent workers who insisted that for an ordained minister to engage in teaching a school was for him to be untrue to the calling for which he had been set apart. To sustain their position they appealed to apostolic example, and pointed to the small results as to conversions in the instances in which this method had been tried. Among the advocates of schools also there was a lack of agreement as to the immediate object to be sought by the use of this agency. Ought it to be so much the conversion of the pupils, and through this the raising up of a native ministry, that all other results should be regarded as of small importance? Or, ought the school to be looked upon as an efficient means of preparing the soil for the good seed of Christian truth to be sown later by preaching the gospel? In the paper from which the quotation at the head of this chapter is taken Mateer ably and fully discussed all of these questions, bringing out fairly both sides of them, and then presented his own convictions as he held them from the beginning of his missionary career, and as he unswervingly adhered to them all the rest of his life. He disclaimed any intention to exalt education as a missionary agency above other instrumentalities, and especially not above preaching the gospel; and claimed for it only its legitimate place. As to this he laid down and[131] elaborated certain great principles involved in the nature of the case and verified by experience. Education, he said, is important in order to provide an effective and reliable ministry; to furnish teachers for Christian schools, and through them to introduce into China the superior education of the West; to prepare men to take the lead in introducing into China the science and arts of western civilization, as the best means of gaining access to the higher classes in China, of giving to the native church self-reliance, and of fortifying her against the encroachments of superstition from within and the attacks of educated skepticism from without. On the last of these propositions he enlarged with wise foresight:

So long as all the Christian literature of China is the work of foreigners, so long will the Chinese church be weak and dependent. She needs as rapidly as possible a class of ministers with well-trained and well-furnished minds, who will be able to write books, defending and enforcing the doctrines of Christianity, and applying them to the circumstances of the church in China.... Again, as native Christians increase in numbers, and spread into the interior, they will pass more and more from under the direct teaching and control of foreigners. Then will arise danger from the encroachment of heathen superstition, and from the baneful influence of the Chinese classics. Superstitions of all kinds find a congenial soil in the human heart, and they often change their forms without changing their nature. The multiform superstitions of China will not die easily; and unless they are constantly resisted and ferreted out and exposed,[132] they will commingle with Christianity and defile it.... The day is not distant when the skepticism of the West will find its way into China. The day when it shall be rampant is not so distant as might be supposed. Error is generally as fleet-footed as truth. To repel these attacks, and vindicate the truth in the face of heathen unbelief, will require a high order of education. An uneducated Christianity may hold its own against an uneducated heathenism, but it cannot against an educated heathenism. We want, in a word, to do more than introduce naked Christianity into China, we want to introduce it in such a form, and with such weapons and supports, as will enable it to go forward alone, maintain its own purity, and defend itself from all foes.

In view of these ideals with regard to the object of such schools, he concluded his paper by urging that they should be of an advanced grade rather than primary, though not excluding the primary; that the natural sciences should be made prominent in the instruction; and that the pupils should be of Christian parentage, rather than of heathen. His prophecy as to skeptical books from the West is already in process of fulfillment.

It needs to be recognized that the substance of all this was in his mind when he opened that little elementary school. But he had to begin with something that fell almost pitifully short of his ideal. The first thing that was necessary was to secure a few pupils under conditions that made it worth while, in view of his object, to teach them. One of these[133] conditions was that the parents of the boys should formally bind themselves to leave them in the school six or seven years, so that they might finish the studies prescribed. Otherwise they would stay only as long as suited them or their parents, and they would all the while be exposed to heathen influences that likely would nullify the Christian instruction received. On the other hand, this arrangement made it necessary for the school to furnish gratuitously not only the buildings and the teachers, but the food and lodging and clothes of the pupils. Gradually this was so far modified that the parents provided their clothes and bedding and books. To meet the running expenses of the school the average cost of each pupil was ascertained, and an effort was made to secure from Sabbath schools in the United Stales a contribution of that amount. The plan of designating a particular boy for support by a particular Sabbath school was suggested from home for consideration, but was discouraged, on the ground that it might often prove disappointing, through the uncertainties as to the conduct of the boy; and it was rarely, if at all, practiced. In order to secure these contributions each year a letter had to be carefully prepared, and then duplicated, at first by hand, and later by lithographing process, and sent to the Sabbath schools that shared in giving for this purpose. These letters were of a very high order, taking for the theme of each some important phase of Chinese life and manners or of mission work. They might to advantage have been[134] gathered into a volume; and if this had been done, it would be entitled to rank with books of the very best kind on the same general subject. The preparation of these letters and their multiplication and distribution cost very considerable time and labor; to lighten this for her husband, Julia rendered valuable assistance, even to the extent eventually of taking upon herself the entire work, except the printing.

The average expense of a boy was at first estimated at forty dollars, but with the rise of prices as the years went by, this estimate had to be raised. The scheme worked well enough to enable the school not only to go on, but gradually to increase its numbers as other events opened the way. Nor was there any difficulty in obtaining all the pupils that could be accommodated. At the beginning all were from families who were too poor to educate their boys in native schools, and to whom the fact that in addition to the good education received, their boy was also clothed and fed, proved inducement sufficient to overcome the opprobrium of allowing him to fall under the influence of the hated foreigner. It really meant no little in those early days, and, in fact, in all ante-Boxer times, for parents, even though Christians, to send their boys to the Tengchow school. An honored native pastor who was at one time a pupil there wrote:

When my parents first sent me to school, there was a great protest from all the village. They tried to scare my mother by saying that the foreigners were vampires who could extract the blood of children by[135] magic arts. Nevertheless I was sent; though I must own that I was a little scared myself. When I came home at Chinese New Year vacation, I was most carefully examined by all these prophets of evil; and when they found that not only my pulse was still a-going, but that I was even rosier and in better flesh than before, they said that the three months I had been there were not enough to show the baneful results; only wait! After the Germans took Kiaochow and began the railroad, the rumors in that region became worse. Under each sleeper a Chinese child must be buried. To furnish axle grease for the “fire-cart” human fat must be tried out—anyone could see the great boilers they had for the purpose; and under those great heaps of fresh-turned earth they buried the bones.

At the time of the Tientsin massacre it was currently reported that Mateer was fattening boys for the purpose of killing them, and then taking their eyes and hearts to make medicine with which to bewitch the people.

Nevertheless the numbers were always full, except at brief intervals, when reduced by popular disturbances, epidemics or such causes. The school in its second year had twelve pupils, just double the number with which it began its work. It will be remembered that in 1867 the Mateers built and occupied their new home. This vacated the old Kwan Yin temple premises. In the application to the Board to erect the new home Mateer said:

We do not propose to vacate the old premises, but to appropriate them to the school, for which they would be admirably adapted. We look forward with[136] confidence to an increase of the school. Our present number of scholars, however, occupy all the room we can possibly spare; if we increase we must build not only sleeping rooms, but a large schoolroom. This would not, it is true, cost as much money as a foreign house, but it would not come as far below as perhaps you might suppose. The main building would make one or two most admirable schoolrooms, which will accommodate any school we will likely ever have. One of the side buildings would make a very convenient dining room and kitchen, and the other, with additional buildings made vacant, would with a very little refitting furnish at least ten new rooms besides what we now have. It will probably be many years before we will have more than these.

With all his largeness of vision he did not yet foresee the coming Tengchow college; though he was planning for greater things for the mission as well as for the health and comfort of himself and wife.

Because the language employed was solely Chinese, at the beginning neither Mateer nor his wife could take part in the instruction; all had to be done by the Chinese assistant, who was a professing Christian. It was not long, however, until both the Mateers were able to help; though at no time did he give himself exclusively to teaching. The boys were taught to read and write in their own language, so that for themselves they might be able to study the Bible and other books which they were expected to use. Arithmetic was a part of this course in the elementary department with which the school began, and it was one of the very first of the branches of which Mateer took[137] charge. Mrs. Mateer had a class in geography, and widened their vision of the world by informing them of other lands besides China. Three times a week she undertook the peculiarly difficult task of instructing them to sing. Of course, there was morning worship. This was held in the schoolroom. The service consisted of a hymn, of a chapter in the New Testament read verse about, and a prayer. There was also evening worship. On Sabbath morning all attended the little native chapel. In the afternoon a sort of Sunday school was held, and in it Mateer taught the bigger boys, and Mrs. Mateer the smaller, in the Scriptures. At worship on Sabbath evening he questioned them all in turn about the sermon in the morning. Such was the very humble way in which the school was nurtured in its infancy, and started on the road to become what has been pronounced to be the very best of all the colleges in China.

Three months after the first opening the six pupils admitted were reduced to three, because the fathers of the other boys were unwilling to sign the obligation to leave them in the school the required number of years. A decade after the school was begun Mateer said in a Sunday-school letter:

Our boys are from nine or ten to eighteen or twenty years, and a number of them have been in school seven or eight years. If they have never been to school, we require them to come for twelve years, but take them for a less time if they have already been several years in a native school. We try to get those who have[138] already been to school, as it is a saving both of labor and of money.

During these years we took many boys into the school who came to nothing. Some were too stupid, and we had to send them away after they had learned to read and knew something of the Bible. Others were bad boys, and we had to dismiss them; and some got tired and ran away, or were taken away by their parents because they wanted them at home to work. We sifted out some good ones, who were bright and promised to make good men.

The pupils they retained at the end of the first ten years were culled out of more than twice their number. Of the routine of the school he wrote:

The boys go to school at six o’clock in the morning, and study till eight. Then all meet in the large schoolroom for prayers. After this there is a recess of an hour for breakfast. At half-past nine they go to school again, and remain till half-past twelve. In the afternoon they have another session of four hours. During the shortest days of winter they have an evening session instead of a morning session. These are the ordinary hours of study in the native schools. At first we thought so many hours in school too much for either health or profit, but after trying our plan for several years, we were convinced that for Chinese children and Chinese methods of study the native plan is best. The great business in Chinese schools is committing the classics, which they do by chanting them over rhythmically at the top of their voices,[139] each one singing a tune of his own, and apparently trying to “hollow” louder than the others. The din they make would be distracting to one of us, but the Chinese teacher seems to enjoy it. The exercise it gives the lungs compensates, perhaps, for the want of more play hours. When Mrs. Mateer or I go into the school to hear classes, we, of course, make them stop their uproarious studying, and study to themselves. About half the day our boys devote to Christian and to scientific books. They learn a catechism of Christian doctrine, “The Peep of Day,” Old Testament history, “Pilgrim’s Progress,” “Evidences of Christianity,” and memorize portions of Scripture. They study also geography, ancient history, arithmetic, algebra, geometry, trigonometry, natural philosophy, and chemistry. They are trained in singing, writing essays, and debating. The native books which they study are composed mostly of the maxims and wise sayings of Confucius and Mencius, together with a large number of poems. These books teach people to be honest and upright. They teach children to obey their parents and elder brothers. They also contain a great deal about the duties of the people to their rulers, and of the rulers to the people. They praise all good and virtuous men, and exhort all to lead virtuous lives; but they offer no motives higher than the praise of men. They teach nothing about God or future life. They are all written in what is called the classical style, which is to a Chinese boy what Latin is to an American boy. These books the boys commit to memory, and recite to their teacher, but without understanding them. When a book has been memorized and a boy can repeat it from beginning to end, the teacher commences to explain it to him. He has neither grammar nor[140] dictionary to help him, but must learn all from the teacher’s lips. When a young man can repeat all these books and give the explanation, and can write an essay in the same style, the Chinese consider him a scholar, and when he can do this, and in addition has mastered all the other branches of study mentioned above, we consider his education finished, and he graduates from our school. A boy must have a good mind, and be very diligent if he gets through in twelve years.

The clothes of the boys, of course, were entirely Chinese as to material and style. Their food was of like character. The dormitories were low rooms with earthen floors and the bedsteads were of dry mud. The letter continues:

Teaching the boys their regular lessons is but a small part of the work to be done in such a school as ours. Ways and means have to be provided to have their food bought and properly cooked. The cook must be prevented from stealing it, and the boys from wasting it. Their clothes have to be made in proper season, and mended and washed, and the boys watched that they do not destroy them. Then each boy’s grievances have to be heard and his quarrels examined into and settled. Bad boys have to be exhorted or reproved, and perhaps punished and every possible means used, and that constantly, to make the boys obedient and truthful and honest. We also strive to train them to habits of industry, perseverance, and self-reliance, without which their education will do them no good. Thus you see that to train up these boys so that they shall become good and useful men requires a great deal of labor, patience, and faith, and prayer.

These are homely details, but we cannot overlook them, and understand the life of the Mateers in its connection with this work.

Discipline in any school composed of so many boys and of such varied age could not be an easy task; in this Chinese school it was peculiarly perplexing. There were some unusual incidents. Falsehood, stealing, quarreling, gluttony, and even sodomy were offenses that had to be dealt with according to the circumstances attending each case. One instance of discipline was so distinctively Chinese that the description of it by Mateer in his Journal deserves a place here. Under date of April 9, 1869, he wrote:

One very distressing thing has happened within a month. Leon Chin Chi was being persecuted by his father in relation to the matter of his marriage engagement with Shang Yuin, when in a fit of desperation he went and bought opium, and took it to kill himself. Some of the boys suspected him, and went to see. They found him lying on his bed evidently in great distress of mind, and refusing to answer any questions save to say that his affairs were all over with. I inferred from this, as also from his saying to one of the boys that he would never see him again, that he had taken poison—most likely opium. I went and got a strong emetic, and mixed it up, but he refused to take it. I then got a stick and used it to such good purpose that in a very short time he was glad to take the medicine. It had the desired effect, and in a very short time he vomited up the opium. He seemed to lay the beating to heart very much. It was evidently a new idea to him to be put through in such a[142] style. After a day or two, when he had gone to school again, I gave him a formal and severe whipping in the presence of the school. I thought very seriously over the matter of whipping him, and concluded that it was my duty to do it. I believe now that it did the boy good. He was called before the session last week, when he manifested a good deal of sorrow and penitence. He was publicly reproved and admonished on Sabbath morning. I am sorry that he had such a weakness; it greatly decreases my reliance on him, and my belief in his genuine Christian character. It must be allowed that there is some little excuse, in the way in which the Chinese all regard suicide. He had not got those ideas all educated out of him.

While Mateer differed in opinion from those missionaries who favored schools simply as effective agents for the conversion of the pupils, he regarded this as one of the leading results to be sought and expected. It was almost two years after the opening of his school when he had the great joy of baptizing one of the pupils. In describing the event to a secretary of the Board, he said:

He is the oldest boy in the school, and is in fact a man in years, though his education is not yet nearly finished. He has been for two or three months feeling that it was his duty to profess Christ, but, as he is naturally modest and retiring, he did not make his wish known. His mother, to whom he was uncommonly attached, died recently, and this brought him to a full decision. His examination before the session was most satisfactory, showing that he has improved well his opportunities of learning the truth. I have great hopes of his future usefulness. He has[143] a good mind, and is a most diligent student, and if he is spared, and is taught of God’s Spirit he may be a great treasure to us in preaching to the heathen.

Three months later he wrote again of this young man as exemplary in conduct and as growing in grace, and added:

I am thankful that I can now say that another has since been baptized. He is the most advanced boy in the school, and is in fact very nearly a man. His conversion was not sudden, but gradual, after the manner of almost all the Chinese. We trust, however, that he is a true child of God, and we have strong hope that if he is spared he will make a very useful man.

The next year three more of the largest boys were received into the church. The session examined two others, but thought it best for them to wait a few weeks; and a number more were hoping to be received, but were advised to defer the matter. Thus the conversion of the boys gradually progressed, until at the time when the school formally became a college, all who had graduated, and nearly all the pupils still enrolled who were sufficiently mature, were professing Christians.

Julia’s sister, Maggie Brown, came out to join the station at Tengchow early enough to render valuable help in the initial stages of the school. In 1871 she married Mr. Capp. One of the necessities which Mateer recognized was that of a girls’ school, his reason being the vital importance of providing suitable[144] wives for the young men whom he was training. After her marriage Mrs. Capp took charge of such a school, and she and her brother-in-law, Mateer, continued to coöperate in that important enterprise. For use in teaching she translated a mental arithmetic, and in this she had his assistance. Dr. Corbett wrote: “In spite of all discouragements in the way of securing permanent and efficient heads, and of the paucity of results, he never wavered in his support of the girls’ school, and always planned for its welfare, because he saw in it an element necessary to the final success of the Christian Church.” When Mrs. Capp died, she left her little all for the erection of buildings to be used by the school which he had encouraged, and to which she had consecrated the maturity of her powers.

Thirteen years went by before any of the young men graduated. The first class consisted of three men who had completed the course, which by that time had been enlarged beyond the curriculum already described so as to include astronomy, the text-book used being a good, stiff one,—no other than a translation of Herschell’s work. Of that first class Mateer said: “They will probably teach for a time at least. There is more call for teachers than for preachers at present.” Under date of May 2, 1877, he wrote as to this first commencement:

We had a communion on the occasion. The speeches made by the young men at graduation were excellent, and the whole effect on the school was most happy. The boys saw distinctly that there is a[145] definite goal before them and their ambition was stirred to reach it.

All of the graduates are men of excellent talents. They are really fine scholars both in their own language and literature and in western science. One of them goes to Hangchow to take charge of the mission school there,—a school which had flourished well-nigh twenty years before the school in Tengchow was born. Another of them goes to Chefoo, to teach a school for the Scottish Presbyterian mission. The third goes to assist Dr. Nevius in his extensive country work, where I am sure he will render the most valuable service. One of our former pupils, who has been teaching in the school during the last year, also goes to assist Dr. Nevius in the same way. This he does of his own free will, knowing that he will have harder work and less pay. We expect a large number of new pupils next year. More are anxious to come than we can take. We will try to do the best we can.

From May, 1879, to January, 1881, the Mateers were absent from China, on their first furlough home. During this period the school was in charge of other missionaries, and a part of the time was without a regular superintendent; yet it continued its work fairly well. The return of the Mateers was made the occasion of a reception that must have been exceedingly pleasant to them. In the Sunday-school letter for 1881 he described it:

From Chefoo to Tengchow we traveled in a shentza. The weather was cold and the ground covered with[146] snow. We got along comfortably, however, and reached Tengchow in safety. The schoolboys had heard of our coming, and were all on the lookout to meet us. It was Saturday afternoon, and they had no school; so they all came out of the city to meet us on the road. They met us in companies, and their beaming faces and hearty expressions of delight made us feel that we were indeed welcome back to Tengchow. Their faces looked very familiar, though some of the smaller boys had grown very much during our absence. The next week the school closed for the year.

Late in 1881 they were gladdened by the arrival of Robert Mateer and Lillian as reënforcements to the mission. Robert has been one of the most efficient of the Presbyterian missionaries in Shantung, especially in evangelism, and is still doing most excellent work. Lillian was attractive in person and proved herself an accomplished and successful teacher. In the course of time she married Mr. Samuel Walker. The failure of his health compelled their return home.

The year 1882 seems to have been marked by a distinct advance all along the line. The average attendance rose to sixty-five. The new students were selected out of the possible admissions, and consisted of such as gave most promise as to work and character, some of them being already well advanced in their studies, and full-grown men. The secret of this was the enlargement of the constituency of the institution, through the reputation it had already won for itself among the Chinese in general, and through the increase of native Christians. Perhaps the most remarkable[147] improvement was in the prosecution of their work by the students; a state of things due to such causes as the presence of a larger number of select and advanced pupils, with a fuller and higher and prescribed curriculum, with formal public graduation at its completion.

So straitened had their quarters become that in the following year another building was obtained, care being taken that its outfit should, as heretofore, be of so plain a character as not to lift the men who went out from the institution above their own people in their ideas and habits of living. Of course, the growth of the school and its differentiation according to the stages of the curriculum necessitated a considerable increase in the force of teachers. After graduates began to go out, several of these were employed. Lillian Mateer for a while helped in the school, but it was not long until her marriage to Mr. Walker terminated her connection with the Presbyterian work and her residence at Tengchow. In the autumn of 1882 very substantial and permanent help came by the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. W. M. Hayes, whose large services will require further notice as this biography proceeds. Were it not that the story of the life of Mrs. Julia Mateer is told fully in a suitable volume, much would be said here as to her remarkable achievements, especially in the school.

Mateer’s work in connection with the school lay only in part in the classroom; but whatever shape it took, it was always of such a character as to impress[148] his own individuality in a remarkable degree. Both he and Julia regarded personal influence as of such vital importance that they were not quite prepared to welcome an increase of pupils so great as to hazard this element of training. Dr. Corbett says: “As a teacher he was enthusiastic and eminently successful. He was always wide-awake and never dull; so he was able to keep the attention of every student. Any attempt to deceive him was useless, and students found no comfort in going to a recitation unless they had been faithful in their preparation.” The truth is that, helpful as he gladly made himself to everybody who tried to conduct himself as he ought, he was a terror to all triflers and evildoers, old or young. Dr. Mateer’s surname in Chinese was Ti. The tiger is called Lao Hu. It is significant that among themselves his students sometimes spoke of him as Ti Lao Hu. One thing he believed with his whole heart, and endeavored to impress in every legitimate way on his pupils. This is that the highest office to which a Christian man can be called is the ministry of the gospel. In all his conduct of the school his dominating desire was to raise up faithful, able, well-educated men, filled with the Spirit, to go forth as ambassadors of Christ to win China for Him. As Dr. Corbett adds: “For this purpose he gave wise counsel, intellectual effort, unceasing toil and daily prayer. He gave of his own money freely to help the destitute, and make it possible for youths of promise to fit themselves for usefulness.”

Such, briefly told, is the story of the Tengchow school. In the two decades of its existence it had fully justified the consecrated wisdom of its founder and head. From the little elementary department with which it had opened, it had advanced so as to become also a high school, and at length to do work of full collegiate rank. At the time when it formally took the name of a college, there was an average attendance of seventy-five, including three day scholars. It had educated more or less completely perhaps two hundred pupils, who had come up from Chinese families, some of them Christian and many of them heathen. Of those who remained long enough to be molded by the influences of the institution and were mature enough, all made a public profession of their faith in Christ. They had been trained to live upright, godly, Christian lives; and they had seen one of their number die in peace through his faith in Christ. The character and the work of those who had gone out to do their part in the activities of the world were such as to command respect and confidence and influence. For the graduates who were beginning to be sent forth there was a demand to fill positions of high importance, much in excess of the supply, and by no means limited to Shantung. Besides all that had been achieved, the prospect of far greater things in the future was assured.

Mateer was at no time a very prolific contributor to the home newspapers and periodicals. For about ten years, with some frequency, he wrote for “The Presbyterian Banner” letters concerning the work of the mission done by himself and others in China; but after that he was too busy to continue such writing, except at long intervals. Once or twice he sent to the United States more labored replies to what he considered misleading articles that had appeared in such periodicals as “The Princeton Review,” in regard to the condition of things in China. He greatly deprecated laudation of matters Chinese and unwarranted hopefulness as to the immediate future of their country. He was[151] strongly inclined to question the wisdom of the policy which the United States was pursuing in China forty or fifty years ago, and he did not hesitate to express in print here at home his views on that line of topics. Beyond these fugitive contributions to the newspapers and periodicals he published little else in this country, save a booklet or two, one or more of which he prepared for the use of the Board at their request. Sometimes he questioned whether his slight use of the home press might not leave the impression there that he was not doing as much as others who were more frequent in their contributions; but all the same he gave himself to the other work which his hands found to do.

Most of his contributions to current literature appeared in China and were written for “The Chinese Recorder.” His articles in this periodical extend over almost his entire missionary life, some of them being brief, but many of them being elaborate discussions of great subjects affecting directly or indirectly the work of evangelization in non-Christian lands. His book on the Chinese term for God was not published until 1902, and, of course, was in English, though with copious extracts from Chinese literature. His only other English book was a review of Dr. Nevius’ “Methods of Missions.”

His publications in Chinese, as we shall presently see, were very considerable in number, and were of large importance to the work of missions; for he at no time allowed himself to be diverted to the[152] production of any treatise that would not be helpful in the one service to which he consecrated his life. But before he began to avail himself of the press for his own books, he was somewhat unwillingly compelled for a while to take the management of a printing establishment. Down at Shanghai there was already a mission press, the funds for the establishment of which had in large part been contributed for that distinct purpose, and which had been left hitherto to the management of the Presbyterian missionaries of that general region. The Synod of China—by order of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in the United States—was organized in the autumn of 1870, and the first meeting was held at Shanghai. The condition of the mission press at that place was brought before the synod, and was by that body handed over to the foreign missionaries in attendance, as more properly belonging to their control. A plan covering the entire operation of the plant, as drawn up by Mateer in a committee and approved by the entire body, was sent home to the Board for sanction, which in due time it received. One of the things for which immediate provision was necessary was a man to take charge of the establishment, and the choice, after repeated efforts to secure some other suitable person, and after his own refusal to take the place, returned to him in such a way that he felt that he could not decline it, if limited to a period of a year, and with the privilege of spending some time as necessary up at Tengchow. Of course,[153] temporary arrangements had to be made for the conduct of the school. For this purpose Julia’s sister, Maggie, was called into service; and with such assistance as she could command she gave excellent satisfaction. She was also in possession of the Mateer home. As to the work to which he was thus temporarily called at Shanghai, he said in his Journal:

While it is a very great trial to me to come to Shanghai, it is not without some inducement. It will increase very largely my acquaintance, and will enlarge my knowledge of China and its affairs. Also I hope it may be the means of getting something of great benefit done for Julia’s health. I am very sorry that the doctor who treated her before is not here now. My great sorrow is that it will interfere with my Chinese studies, and prevent me accomplishing what I had designed.

It was not until August, 1872, that he finally went back to Tengchow to resume his work there.

The details of his life while at Shanghai probably would not interest most readers. He said of it in his Journal, under date of January 29, 1872:

I neglected everything to do the work in the press, and I worked with an assiduity that I have rarely given to anything in my life. I had hoped when I went to Shanghai to have some time to study, but I found it utterly out of the question. The demands for the press were imperative, and I just gave myself to the work.

Two sides of his capabilities were there brought into special requisition. One of these was his efficiency[154] as a business manager,—a characteristic due partly to his native qualities, and partly to his habits of accuracy, of wise forethought, of careful oversight, and of insistence on the faithful performance of duty by all employees. This side of his character is brought out by his “letter books.” Separation by the space of half a globe from the base of supplies made it necessary to anticipate wants by eight or ten months. For convenient reference he caused every business letter, and many others, to be copied. Especially as the school and college at Tengchow grew on his hands he had to conduct what was in reality a large miscellaneous business, under conditions that were very exceptionally difficult. He had not only to provide for his own wants in his family and in his work, but also to accommodate others by acting as their agent. His orders had to go sometimes to Shanghai, but more frequently to London, or to New York, or to some place in the interior of the United States. Many are curiosities, owing to the nature and the range of articles included—from a steam engine or a telescope or costly chemical supplies to a paper of pins. Some of the lists cover more than ten pages in the copy. Woe to the merchant or agent in London or New York or Shanghai who by mistake or for other reason sent without adequate explanation any article that was not quite in accordance with the order! He might expect to get a sharp letter, and a demand to rectify the mistake if that were practicable. Service as treasurer of the mission[155] also gave him drill. Shilly-shally workmen are one of the horrors which sometimes call from him in his Journal groans of anguish. When he had completed his charge of the press establishment, including as it did a book department, a job department, a dwelling for the superintendent, quarters for the workmen, all of whom were Chinese, a chapel for these workmen, and other equipments, it was a well-organized business, running regularly and smoothly, and doing its work about as efficiently as was possible under the conditions.

The other side of his capabilities there especially called into exercise was his mechanical gifts. As an illustration, the following from his Journal, under the same date as that just given, will answer:

I had to get a Japanese dictionary started, and it was a most embarrassing affair. My predecessor had made promises which he could not fulfill. The men were there to print, and yet we had to send to England for paper to do the job. Also all the pronunciation marks for Webster’s dictionary were to be put in, and we did not have the type or the matrices. I had to have the letters cut on wood, and matrices made; this was a world of trouble. Some of the letters were cut over half-a-dozen times or more, and after all they were far from perfect. I also had a set of shaped music types cut, and this took a deal of time and pains to get them all properly cut, as also to get the matrices made. I finally succeeded quite well in both respects.... I also experimented not a little in stereotyping, and succeeded in doing fair work. I trained one boy who stereotyped[156] Matthew before I left. In order to carry it on effectually and rapidly I had a furnace and press made and fitted up, which after sundry changes worked very well.... I also had a new style of case for Chinese type made, which I think will be an improvement on the old. I also had a complete and thorough overhauling of the matrices, reassorted them all, and had new cases made. This was a serious job, but it will I am sure prove a very great help to the efficient working of the establishment.

He consented to manage the press only until a competent man could be secured to take it off his hands. When casting about for such a person, his mind had been directed to his brother John, nearly a year before he was himself forced into this position. John had hoped to go to college, and to prepare for the ministry, and to go out as a missionary, but, on account of certain tendencies developed as to his health, he was compelled to abandon his purpose. As to his mechanical gifts and his ability to turn them into use in a great variety of ways, he resembled Calvin; and the latter was so confident that John could soon fit himself to be a competent superintendent of the press at Shanghai that he advised the Board of Missions to make inquiry in regard to him. The result was that eventually he was selected for the place, and he arrived in China early in August, 1871. Before he could satisfactorily enter on his duties it was necessary for him to acquire some knowledge of the language and to acquaint himself with the business committed to his charge. This[157] detained Calvin until late in that year; and after a period of some three months spent at Tengchow, he returned to Shanghai to assist John in moving the press to new and much better premises that had been purchased. The moving proper was a heavy job, requiring a week of hard, dirty labor. The distance was about a mile, mostly by water, but by land a hundred or more yards at either end. While thus engaged, although he was no longer officially at the head of the business, he took the main charge, so as to allow his brother to give his time chiefly to the acquisition of the language and to other things that he needed to learn.

The new place is the same now occupied by the press in Peking Road. Under the superintendency of Rev. G. F. Fitch, it has become the center not only of the Presbyterian missions, but of the general missionary activity all over China. In writing to his brother as early as November, 1869, he said of this plant: “It is a very important place, and would give you an extensive field for doing good. The establishment is not very large, it is true, as compared with similar establishments in such cities as New York or Philadelphia; yet it is the largest and best of the kind in China. It not only does all the printing for all our missionaries, but a great deal of job work for others; besides making and selling a large amount of type.” After he had completed his term of the management, and while helping John to get into the traces, he wrote to one of the secretaries of the Board:

I am not in favor of enlargement, but I would be very sorry to see the present efficiency of the press curtailed. It is doing a great and a good work not only for our missions, but for all China. It has exerted a prodigious collateral influence both in China and in Japan, affording facilities for the production of all kinds of scientific books, dictionaries, and so forth. Aside from any general interest in the missionary work, having at no small sacrifice left my proper work and given more than a year to the press, and also having a brother here in charge of it, I feel a lively interest in its future.

The last record that has come down to us concerning his work there is: “We have just sold to the Chinese government a large font of Chinese type. They are going to use movable metal type. This is a large step for them to take, and it will do good. China yields slowly, but she is bound to yield to Christianity and Christian civilization.”

At no subsequent period of his life had he any part in the management of a printing establishment, but indirectly he continued to have much to do with the press. He was a member of a joint committee of the Shantung and the Peking mission, in charge of publications, and as such he had to acquaint himself with what was needed, and with what was offered, so as to pass intelligent judgment. Unofficially and as a friend whose aid was solicited, he revised one or more of the books which his associates submitted to him for criticism. At the General Conference of Missionaries, held at Shanghai in 1877, a committee,[159] of which he was a member, was appointed to take steps to secure the preparation of a series of schoolbooks for use in mission schools. Not long afterward he published an elaborate paper on the subject, discussing in it the character which such publications should have, and especially calling attention to the need of peculiar care as to the Chinese words which ought to be employed in the treatises on the sciences. That committee diligently set itself to work, and initiated measures for a rather comprehensive set of books by various missionaries to meet the want recognized in this general field. He was himself called upon to prepare several books, some of which he was willing to undertake; others he put aside as not properly falling to him. In one or two instances he claimed for himself precedence as to treatises suggested for others to write. Some friction occurred, and when the Conference met again in 1890 that committee was discharged, and an Educational Association, composed of missionaries familiar with the needs of schools, and confining its functions more exclusively to the publication of books for teaching—largely under his leadership—was formed. He was its first chairman. This change he had warmly favored, and he was an active member of the Association. In it he was chairman of a committee on scientific terms in Chinese, a subject of great difficulty, and of prime importance in the preparation of text-books. In the subsequent years he was so much occupied with the revision of the Mandarin Bible, and with other[160] duties, that he could give to the technical terms only a secondary place in his activities. Still, six years after he accepted this chairmanship he says: “I have collected a large number of lists of subjects for terms in chemistry, physics, mathematics, astronomy, geology, metallurgy, photography, watch-making, machinery, printing, music, mental and moral philosophy, political economy, theology, and so forth.” Subsequently he continued this work.

The first literary production of his own pen in Chinese was a tract on infant baptism; this was called forth by local conditions at Tengchow. A small sheet tract, entitled “A Prayer in Mandarin,” also followed early. As chairman of the committee appointed by the Educational Association, he made a report on chemical terms, and recommended a new and distinctively Chinese method for the symbols in that science. This was printed.

In a preliminary report of the Shanghai press, made in September, 1871, he, in a list of books in course of preparation, mentions under his own name as author the following: “1. Catechism on Genesis, with answers to the more difficult questions,—finished, needing only a slight revision. 2. An explanation of the moral law as contained in the ten commandments,—half-finished. 3. Scripture Text-Book and Treasury, being Scripture references by subjects, supplying in great part the place of a concordance,—one-third finished.” All of these had been under way for several years, but had been frequently shunted[161] off the track by other imperative work. Very soon after that date the catechism was published. He had a good deal to do with Julia’s “Music Book,” especially in coining appropriate terminology, though he never claimed joint authorship in it. Along with Dr. Nevius, he published a hymn book for use in Chinese services; and down to the close of his life, especially on a Sabbath when he did not preach, he now and then made an additional Chinese version of a hymn. In fact, whenever he heard a new hymn that especially moved him he wished to enrich the native collection by a translation of it into their speech. One which the Chinese came greatly to like was his rendering of the Huguenot song, “My Lord and I.” A subject that was always dominant in his mind and heart was the call to the ministry, and it was significant that one of the last things on which he worked was a translation of the hymn which has the refrain, “Here am I, send me.” It was not quite finished when his illness compelled him to lay down his pen; but recently at a meeting of the Chinese student volunteers, constituting a company rising well toward one hundred and fifty, that hymn was printed on cards, and a copy was given to each of these candidates for the ministry. In 1907 he had carried a theological class through the Westminster Shorter Catechism, and as an outcome his translation was published. This is the last religious book he made in Chinese. During his long service as a missionary he taught a number of theological classes in various studies, and his lectures were[162] regarded as very superior, but he published none of them.

His schoolbooks all originated in the necessities of his own work as a teacher. The first thus to force itself upon his attention was an arithmetic. He was already at work on it in 1868, and it went to press while his brother John was superintending the plant at Shanghai. The preparation of such a book, to one unacquainted with the conditions under which this one was made, may seem to have been a rather easy undertaking, and to have required little more than a sufficient mastery of the Chinese language and of English; yet there were some perplexing questions that arose in connection with it. For instance, the method of writing numbers horizontally was wholly unknown to the Chinese. Should the new arithmetic use the western, or should it retain the Chinese method? To retain the Chinese would be to train the pupils in a usage that would be confusing in subsequent reading of western mathematics; to abandon it would be equally confusing in printing the text of the book, which, according to Chinese usage, must be arranged perpendicularly. The difficulty was gotten over by duplicating each pattern example, giving it once horizontally and once perpendicularly. Pupils using the book were permitted to take their choice in performing their work, but in the text proper all numbers appeared vertically. Such lines as those dividing the numerator and denominator of a fraction stood perpendicularly, with the figures to the right[163] and the left. Until he published his arithmetic, the Chinese numerals had been employed; he introduced the Arabic. At the dawn of the new era subsequent to the Boxer outbreak, almost the first book in demand by Chinese teachers and pupils outside the mission schools was a western arithmetic; and among others put upon the market were many “pirated” editions of Mateer’s book, printed on cheap paper and with wooden blocks. The publishers had not yet learned the significance of “copyright.” The circulation of the book, however brought about, had at least the effect of immediately increasing the reputation of its author among the scholarly classes outside the church. Of the editions issued by the press at Shanghai tens of thousands of copies have been sold. Dr. Fitch writes that “it is impossible to state the total number,” and that “the book has gone into all parts of the empire.”

In October, 1884, he submitted to the schoolbook committee of the Educational Association the manuscript of his geometry, and in doing so he said of it:

It is the result of much pains and labor.... The book is written in plain Wen-li, and much pains has been taken to make it smooth in style and accurate in meaning. In the few equations used I have introduced the mathematical signs employed in the West, of which I have given a full explanation in the beginning of the book.... Mathematical signs and symbols are a species of universal language, used alike by all civilized nations, and it is unwise to change them until it is absolutely necessary. The young men[164] who have given most effective assistance in the preparation of this geometry are decided in their opinion that we should not change or garble the mathematical symbolism of the West, but give it to them in its integrity. The only change made is in writing equations perpendicularly instead of horizontally,—a change which is necessitated by the form of Chinese writing.

The book was published the following year. To the same committee he reports in March, 1882, that his algebra was then all in manuscript, and only needing revision and some rearrangement before printing. The geometry was followed by his algebra, first part. These have had a large sale, though, because fewer studied this branch, not the equal of the arithmetic.

On January 14, 1908, he sent to the manager of the press the preface to the second volume of his algebra, which covers the same ground as the “University” edition in the United States. Of this Dr. Hayes says: “Over twenty years ago he began the preparation of Part II of his algebra, and the draft then made was used in manuscript for many years. Other duties pressed upon him, and he was compelled to lay it away unfinished. Yet he had not forgotten it, but from time to time he would make a step in advance. It was only a few months before his death that the work was completed and published.”

There were a number of other books which he planned, on some of which he did considerable work,[165] but none of which he completed. One of these was so colossal in its projected scope and scholarship that it deserves special notice because indicative of the large things to which early in his missionary career he was already eager to give his time and abilities. This was a Mandarin dictionary. In its preparation he sought to associate with himself Rev. Chauncey Goodrich, of Peking; and in writing to him under date of June 6, 1874, he thus stated his conception of the work:

My idea of the book is a dictionary of the spoken language of north China, in all its length and breadth, including on the one hand all the colloquialisms that the people use in everyday life,—all they use in Chi-li and in Shantung, and in all the Mandarin-speaking provinces, so far as we can get it, noting, of course, as such, the words and phrases we know to be local. Further, let it include as a prominent feature all sorts of ready-made idiomatic phrases, and in general all combinations of two or more characters in which the meaning coalesces, or varies from the simple rendering of the separate characters.

Considerable preliminary work had already been done, when the death of Mrs. Goodrich compelled her husband to withdraw from the partnership; and the project was abandoned by Mateer, though with a hope that it might be resumed. In 1900, however, as the fruit of this and kindred studies he published an analysis of two thousand one hundred and eighteen Chinese characters. This little book was designed to help children in dictation exercises to write characters,[166] and is still largely used for this purpose by mission schools. The huge dictionary, though never completed, had three direct descendants. With Dr. Goodrich it produced first a Chinese phrase book, and then a pocket Chinese-English dictionary, which for brevity and comprehensiveness is a marvel, and which is regarded by almost every student of Chinese as a necessity. In marked contrast with these two volumes is an immense dictionary left behind in manuscript by Dr. Mateer. It is wholly in Chinese; and as it lies unfinished it occupies more than a cubic foot of space, and consists of a set of volumes. No comprehensive dictionary of the Chinese language has been published for two hundred and fifty years, and the last issued had been mainly classical. The object of this was to supply the evident need of a great new work of that sort. One insurmountable difficulty encountered was a phonetic arrangement commanding common usage. None had the requisite approval. Fortunately, on this undertaking Dr. Mateer did not spend his own time, except so far as that was necessary to direct the preparation of it by his scribes when they were not otherwise employed.

In his letter to his college classmates in 1897 he says that he has “well in hand a work on electricity, and one on homiletics prepared when teaching theology.” Neither of these was finished and published. To his college classmate, S. C. T. Dodd, Esq., he wrote in 1898 that he was trying also to finish a work on moral philosophy. In March, 1878, he wrote to Dr.[167] W. A. P. Martin, of Peking: “You will remember probably that when you were here I spoke of my intention to make a natural philosophy by and by. You said, ‘Go ahead,’ and that you would retire in my favor by the time mine was ready, say, ten years hence. If I am spared I hope to have the book ready within the time, if not sooner. As you know, natural philosophy is my hobby, and I have taught it more thoroughly probably than has been done in any other school in China. I intend when I visit America to prepare myself with the material and the facilities for such work.” He was not able to find time for this work; and when later Dr. Martin invited him to write for the revised edition of his treatise the chapter on electricity, this privilege had for the same reason to be put aside. He had also advanced far toward the completion of a translation of “Pilgrim’s Progress” into Mandarin.

His “Mandarin Lessons” was published early in 1892, and immediately commanded a success even larger than its author may have anticipated. Ever since, it has gone on toward a more general use by foreigners wishing to master the language, and has now far outstripped every other work of its kind. He was a quarter of a century in making the book. June 28, 1873, he made the following entry in his Journal concerning it:

Most of last week and this I have spent in making lessons and planning a much larger number than I have made. Mr. Mills urged me to work at them for[168] Dr. ⸺’s benefit, as he did not seem to take hold of Wade. I did not think of what a job I was sliding into when I made three lessons for Maggie a few years ago. I have now laid out quite an extensive plan, and if I am spared I trust I shall be able to finish it, though it will take a deal of work. I believe that I can produce a far better book than any that has yet been brought forth. I was not intending to do this work now, and cannot work much more at it, as other matters imperatively demand attention.

Guided by the hint in this quotation, we are able to trace the book still farther back to its very beginning. June 20, 1867, he said in his Journal: “Maggie Brown [Julia’s sister] has been pushing on pretty lively with the Chinese. I made her lessons for a good while, which she studies, and now she is reading ‘The Peep of Day.’ I tried to make her lessons with a view to bringing out the peculiarities of Chinese idiom. It led me to a good deal of thinking and investigating. I have a mind to review and complete the work, and may some day give it to the world. My great difficulty is in classifying the results attained.”

As the years went by his ideas of the plan for the work took definite shape. In one of his letters concerning it he wrote:

Each lesson illustrates an idiom, the word idiom being taken with some latitude. The sentences, as you will see, are gathered from all quarters, and introduce every variety of subjects. I have also introduced every variety of style that can be called[169] Mandarin, the higher style being found chiefly in the second hundred lessons. The prevailing object, however, is to help people to learn Mandarin as it is spoken. I have tried to avoid distinct localisms, but not colloquialisms. A large acquaintance with these is important, not to say essential, to every really good speaker of Mandarin. It is, of course, possible to avoid the most of them, and to learn to use a narrow range of general Mandarin which never leaves the dead level of commonplace expressions, except to introduce some stilted book phrase. This, however, is not what the Chinese themselves do, nor is it what foreigners should seek to acquire. Many colloquialisms are very widely used, and they serve to give force and variety to the language, expressing in many instances what cannot be expressed in any other way. I have tried to represent all quarters, and in order to do so I have in many cases given two or more forms.

In the pursuit of his plan he sought the aid of competent scholars in the north and in central China, so as to learn the colloquialisms and the usage of words; also in the preparation of a syllabary of the sounds of characters as heard in each of the large centers where foreigners are resident. To accomplish this he also traveled widely. Late in 1889, after a summer spent in studying the dialects of China, he, in company with Julia, made a three months’ trip to the region of the Yangtse, going down on the Grand Canal, spending a month on the great river, and remaining a month at Nanking; always with the main purpose of informing himself as to the current Mandarin, so as to perfect his book. This tour enabled him to give it the final[170] revision; and in his opinion it “more than doubled the value” of the “Lessons.” As finished, they were a huge quarto of six hundred pages, which with the help of Mrs. Julia Mateer he saw through the press down at Shanghai. In 1901, assisted by Mrs. Ada Mateer, he issued a more elementary work of the same general nature.

The protracted study and care which he put upon the “Lessons” were characteristic of him in all his literary productions. Upon this subject no one is better qualified to bear testimony than is Dr. George F. Fitch, Superintendent of the Presbyterian Mission Press, at Shanghai, who speaks from direct personal observation. He says:

One very marked characteristic of Dr. Mateer was the almost extreme painstaking with which he went over any work which he was getting ready for publication; revising and re-revising, seeking the judgment of others, and then waiting to see if possibly new light might dawn upon the subject. I remember reading shortly after I came to China the manuscript of a paper which he had prepared with great labor, upon the much-mooted “term question”; and in which he had collected, with infinite pains, seemingly a great number of quotations from the Chinese classics and other native works, bearing on the use of Shen as the proper word for God in Chinese. I urged him to publish at once, as I thought it might be useful in helping settle that question. But he stoutly refused, saying that it was not yet complete. Nor did it finally see the light, in print, until nearly twenty years afterward.

None of his books at all reveal the protracted and toilsome process of the preparation. We see only the result of years of research. For instance, in his library there was a long row of Chinese books each one of which showed a large number of little white slips at the top. Each one of this multitude of marks had been placed there by some student whom he had employed respectively to read works in Chinese likely to use the word Shen, in order to indicate the passages at which he needed to look. All these were canvassed, and the different shades of meaning were classified.

From the “Mandarin Lessons,” and recently from the arithmetic, he received substantial pecuniary returns, though not at all sufficient to entitle him to be regarded as wealthy. In his manner of living he would have been untrue to his training and impulses if he had not practiced frugality, economy, and simplicity. As the means came into his possession he used them generously both for personal friends and for the promotion of the cause to which he had consecrated his life. Of his outlays for the school and college we shall presently need to speak. The expenses of the Yangtse trip came out of his own pocket. March 9, 1895, he wrote to one of the secretaries of the Board:

The mission minutes spoke, if you remember, of my intention to erect a building for a museum and public lecture room, and present it to the Board. This I intend to do at once. It will cost about[172] twelve hundred dollars, possibly more. I may say in the same connection also that my “Mandarin Lessons” has fully paid all the cost of printing, and so forth, and I expect during the next year to pay into the treasury of the Board one thousand dollars, Mexican. This I do in view of the liberality of the Board in giving me my time while editing and printing the book. When the second edition is printed I expect to pay over a larger amount. I need not say that I feel very much gratified that the book has proved such a success: especially do I feel that it has been, and is going to be, very widely useful in assisting missionaries to acquire the Chinese language. My scientific books are also paying for themselves, but as yet have left no margin of profits.

May 20, 1905, he wrote to a secretary: “I may say, however, that in view of the great importance of the school both to the Tengchow station and as a feeder to the college at Wei Hsien, I have set apart from the profit of my ‘Mandarin Lessons’ enough to support the school for the present year.” December 13, 1906, he wrote to a friend in the United States: “My brother is now holding a large meeting of elders and leading men from all the stations in this field. There are about three hundred of them. It is no small expense to board and lodge so many for ten days. I am paying the bill.” In one of his latest letters to me he mentions this ability pecuniarily to help as affording him satisfaction.

Dr. Mateer believed that sooner than most missionaries anticipated the Chinese Christians will join together and set up an independent church. He meant by this not merely a union of the ministers and churches of the various Presbyterian denominations at work in the country, such as has already been effected, but an organization that would include in its membership all the Protestant Christians, and that would leave little or no place for the service of foreign missionaries. He regarded this as inevitable; and for that reason he considered it to be of prime importance that such an effective preliminary work should promptly be done, that this coming ecclesiastical independence might not be[174] attended by unsoundness as to creed or laxity in life. At the same time, in holding up the care and the training of the native Christians as so important a part of the work of the foreign missionary in China, in anticipation of what is ahead, he was only for an additional reason urging what he had in all his long career recognized as second to no other in importance. Of course, at the beginning of the effort to give the gospel to a people it is indispensable to do “the work of an evangelist”; that is, to seek by the spoken word and by the printed book to acquaint them with elementary Christian truth, and to endeavor to win them to Christ; and we have already seen how diligent Dr. Mateer was in this service, especially in his earlier missionary years. But he was just as diligent in caring for the converts when gained; and in the school and college it was the preparation of men for pastors and teachers and evangelists that was constantly his chief aim.

The first body of native Christians with whose oversight he had anything to do was that very small band that had been gathered into the church at Tengchow. Mills was the senior missionary, and as such he presided over that little flock until his death. In 1867 he was installed as the pastor, and he continued in this office nearly twenty years. During this long period Dr. Mateer at times supplied the pulpit and cared for the church in Mills’s absence or illness, but for most of the time it was only as a sort of adviser that he could render help in that field.[175] We have no reason to think specially unfavorably of Chinese converts because some of those with whom he then had to do at Tengchow, or elsewhere, proved themselves, to him, to be a discouraging set of professing Christians. Were not a good many of Paul’s converts very much of the same grade when he traveled among the churches, and wrote his letters? Did it not take much patience, and fidelity, and persistence on the part of Christ to make anything worth while out of his select disciples? Yet these constituted the membership of the primitive church from which even the missionaries of our day have originated. At any rate some of the earliest experiences of Dr. Mateer with the native Christians were of a very depressing sort. In his Journal, under date of March 17, 1864, he made this record:

Since coming to Tengchow there have been great difficulties in the native church. Several of the members were accused by common fame of various immoral practices,—one of smoking opium, another of lying and conforming to idolatrous practices, and another of breaking the Sabbath. The second of these confessed his fault, and was publicly reproved; the third also confessed, and on his profession of penitence was restored to the confidence of the church. But though the first confessed to the use of the ashes of opium, he gave no certain assurance of amendment; and he was suspended, and so remains. These matters gave us all a great deal of anxiety and sorrow of heart. It is sad thus to find that even those who profess the name of Christ are so much under the power of sin. It is one of the great discouragements of the missionary[176] work. Yet God is able to keep even such weak ones as these unto eternal life.

We had a hearing with the accused, and gave him notice that he would be tried, and of the charges and witnesses. We wrote to Mr. Corbett at Chefoo, to get depositions for us. He did so, and we met, and tried him. The evidence was sufficient to convict him of lying, and of forging an account, and of adultery; notwithstanding, he denied it all, endeavoring to explain away such evidence as he was forced to admit. We decided to excommunicate him, and it was done two weeks ago.

It must not be supposed that there was a great deal of such discouraging work; as a rule, the native Christians tried to live correct lives; and the worst that could be said of most of them at those early dates was that they were “babes” in Christ. But we cannot appreciate what the missionary needs to do as to the professed converts unless we look at this depressing phase. Besides, incidentally we are thus shown one of the methods by which the native Christians were trained in the conduct of their own churches. Each case is dealt with just as is required by the regulations of the denomination with which the church is associated. The same formalities and processes are employed as if in the United States; the same fairness and fullness of investigation, with witnesses and hearing of the accused; and the same effort neither to[177] fall below nor to exceed what justice and charity combined demand for the good of the individual and of the organization as a whole. As to this, in these particular cases no exceptional credit can be claimed for Dr. Mateer; but we can be perfectly sure that it commanded his hearty approbation. This was a practical school also in which was called into exercise a quality of which a young missionary, and especially a man of his type, seldom has enough,—that of mingling a firm adherence to truth and righteousness with a forbearing kindness that will not break a bruised reed or quench the smoking flax. Gradually this became so characteristic of him that the boys in his school and the Christians in the churches were accustomed to come to him and unburden themselves not only of sorrows, but of faults, with no expectation that he would condone wrong or shield them from its just consequences, but confident that he would feel for them, and help them if he could. Nor was it to these classes alone that his heart and hands opened. As they came to know him better, the professor in the imperial university sought his advice and the coolie turned to him in his need; and never in vain.

But there was a brighter side to the experience of those early days. Several of the boys in the school were converted. What joy this afforded, we who live in Christian lands cannot appreciate. The little church at Tengchow also steadily moved forward in those early days of its history. In 1869 it had[178] risen to about fifty members, and the attendance was such that a building solely for its services became indispensable; and in due time an appropriation was made by the Board of Missions, first for a lot, and soon after for a house of worship. Pastor Mills was then absent, and by appointment of presbytery Dr. Mateer acted as stated supply. As such, having first bought the lot, he made an appeal to the Board for the new edifice, saying:

We hold our services in the boys’ schoolroom, which has been kept inconveniently large, for this very purpose. It is the only room that will seat all, and it will not do it sometimes. The desks have to be carried out every Sabbath; and all the benches, chairs, and so forth, about the establishment carried in, making a decidedly nondescript collection. Aside from the inconvenience, two serious drawbacks are felt. One is the want of sacred associations about the place. All heathen are wanting in reverence, and no small part of what they need is to have this idea instilled into their minds. We greatly need in this work a house especially devoted to the worship of God. The other drawback is the disorganizing effect the Sabbath and week-day services have on the school. The room being in the midst of the premises, it is impossible to prevent a large amount of lounging, gossiping, and so forth, in the boys’ room before the service begins. The superintendent feels that it is a very serious drawback to the school, as well as an injury to the native Christians.

Any American who is familiar with students and their habits will perceive that in this matter Chinese[179] young men and boys are very much like those of our own land.

It has been said that the Christians in heathen lands ought to build their own churches, but this is impossible in the early stages of the work, especially at the center of operations, where the foreigner preaches and teaches in person, and where a large part of his hearers are often from a distance. The church at this place gives character to the whole work in the eyes of the people at large, and must of necessity differ in many respects from churches in small places presided over by native pastors. Concerning these last we have already taken a decided stand, requiring the natives to help themselves to a great extent.

Dr. Mateer was appointed by the presbytery to serve a second year as stated supply of the Tengchow church; and had it not been that he was called in 1870 to Shanghai to take charge of the mission press, he no doubt would have given his personal supervision to the erection of the new house of worship. It was built during his absence, and when he came back he rejoiced in its completion. At the death of Mills in 1895, Dr. Mateer was chosen pastor, and was installed as such,—a position he was able to assume because he had found in Mr. Hayes a substitute for himself in the presidency of the college. He remained pastor until he went with the college to Wei Hsien. Dr. Hayes had already for years worked quietly and efficiently in the school, under the presidency of[180] Dr. Mateer, and had shown himself to be a man of exceptional ability and energy—a man after Dr. Mateer’s own heart. After he assumed the presidency Dr. Mateer was still to assist in the college, but he was so often absent or otherwise engaged that both the college and the preaching were largely in the hands of Dr. Hayes.

According to the “Form of Government” of the Presbyterian Church in the United States of America, when a “call” is made out for a pastor it must be certified to have been voted by a majority of the people entitled to exercise this right; and it must fill the blank in the following clause: “And that you may be free from worldly cares and avocations, we hereby promise and oblige ourselves to pay to you the sum of ... in regular quarterly (or half-yearly, or yearly) payments during the time of your being and continuing the regular pastor of this church.” In the settling of native pastors over the Chinese churches scattered through the country, the filling of that blank, and the actual subscription of the funds needed for this and other expenses of the organization, usually require the presence of a missionary and of his earnest stimulation and guidance. Sometimes the pledges are very liberal, if estimated by ability of the members; and sometimes it is with great difficulty that they are brought up to the measure of their duty. The salaries, however, are almost incredibly small, and even according to Chinese standards are scarcely sufficient for a livelihood. We[181] need to keep this state of things in mind in order to appreciate the amount that was inserted in the blank in Dr. Mateer’s call to the pastorate of the Tengchow church. In reporting the entire procedure to the Board of Missions, he said: “The church in Tengchow in calling me for their pastor promised a salary of cash amounting to fifty dollars, which is to be used to employ an evangelist whom I am to select and direct.” Of course, he continued to receive his own pay as a missionary from the funds of the Board. The fifty dollars was probably a creditable amount, as contributed by the native members out of their narrow means; and as a salary for a native evangelist it was at least a fair average.

When reporting this pastorate to the Board of Missions, Dr. Mateer said, “This is work that I love to do, especially the preaching.” When doing the work of an evangelist among the people at large, sermonizing could have no place. Even formal addresses of any sort were rarely practicable. The best that the missionary can do when itinerating is to get attention by any legitimate means, and then to talk, and hear and answer questions, and bear with all sorts of irrelevancies and interruptions. But when a church is organized, a sermon, consisting of a passage of Scripture and a discourse built upon it, is just as much in place as it is in one of our home houses of worship on the Sabbath. It was to the opportunity for that form of service that he refers when he expressed his pleasure in the pastorate. In this also[182] he greatly excelled. Some who knew him most intimately, and who appreciated fully his great worth and efficiency, did not regard him as a very eloquent preacher in an English pulpit. He commanded the attention of his audience by his strong, clear, earnest presentation of the great religious truths which he believed with all his soul. The personality and consecration of the man were a tremendous force when he stood in a pulpit in his own land; what he lacked was the ability which some speakers possess of carrying his audience with him, almost irrespective of the thoughts to which they give utterance. But in preaching to the Chinese he took on an extraordinary effectiveness. There was in the man, in the movement of his thought, in his mastery of the language, in the intense earnestness of his delivery, in the substance of his sermons and addresses, much that captivated the native Christians, and made others bow before his power. Mr. Baller, who had heard him frequently, says: “His sermons were logical, direct, a unit in thought and enriched with a copious vocabulary and illustrations. His points were usually put from the Chinese point of view, so that a foreign air was conspicuously absent.” To this day some of his addresses are recalled as triumphs of real eloquence of speech; perhaps the most notable of these being an address which he delivered at the opening of the English Baptist Institution at Tsinan fu, in 1907. It was an opportunity such as never before had come to a missionary in Shantung,—all the highest officials[183] of the province, and half-a-hundred others of lesser degree, being present. He took as his theme “The Importance of an Upright Character,” and more than rose to the height of the occasion. One of his most memorable sermons was delivered before a convention of some three hundred women gathered at Wei Hsien from the native church members of that region.

His ministry at Tengchow was fruitful of great good in many ways. One of these was the growth of the church by the conversion of the natives. Just before he removed to Wei Hsien, he recorded the fact that during all his pastorate there had not been one of the quarterly communions at which there were no additions. The beginning of his pastorate was signalized by the accession of eighteen,—eight being from the college and six from the girls’ school. Its close was marked by an accession of twenty-six, of whom twenty-one were baptized, the largest number up to that date ever receiving that sacrament, at the same time, in the Tengchow church. Only one was from the college, all the rest having come in through the labors of two associates in the station, Miss Snodgrass and Dr. Seymour.

Just as soon as by evangelistic itineration and other means converts were made in the neighboring region, outside of Tengchow, it became necessary for the missionaries to look after these scattered sheep in the wilderness; and for a good while a large share of that work fell to Dr. Mateer and his wife. In fact, it had been partly through their labors, direct or indirect,[184] that these converts had been won, and therefore they felt it especially a duty to care for their nurture. That, of course, involved a large variety of efforts. In the earlier years these frequently consisted in part of interposition, so far as it was wise and practicable to shield native Christians from gross wrongs to which they were exposed. The hatred of the rulers and of most of the people for foreigners and the foreign religion was bitter. Even at Tengchow the very tombstones in the little cemetery where the missionaries buried their dead were repeatedly broken,—an act regarded by the Chinese as the most gross and cowardly insult that can be offered to a living man; yet it was slow work to secure from the officials protection, or justice as to the criminals. The case of Miao, of Chow Yuen, a district capital situated fifty miles to the southwest of Tengchow, is specially notable. Early in 1869 the Mateers and Margaret Brown, with a Chinese assistant, went to itinerate, and on the way they visited him. When converted out in his native district of Tsi Hea, he immediately began to endeavor to win others to Christ. So he sent word to his clansmen and friends that he had important business with them, and invited them to come to his house. This occurred while the missionaries were there, and they witnessed what took place at the gathering. Miao made a reception speech, in which he said: “I have sent for you, and you have come. I said nothing in my letter, but for you to come, and that I had an important matter to[185] tell you. It is this: I have led you in serving the Devil. There was nothing I would not dare to do, and nothing that you would not care to follow me in doing. I have now found something better. We have often engaged in doubtful enterprises. I have now found something that there is no doubt about: it is thoroughly reliable, resting on the strongest possible proof. I have left the service of the Devil, and I want you to leave it. As I have led you in his service, I want now to lead you out of it. I want to show you the way and to present you to the true God. Examine for yourselves; search to the bottom; and know that I am not deceiving myself nor you. This doctrine of Jesus is absolute and unmistakable truth.” In writing of this, Dr. Mateer adds: “These words were spoken with a fervor and an emphasis that brought tears to my eyes. I thanked God for them, while I prayed that they might not be in vain. Rice was then brought, and this young Christian sat down with his friends and asked a blessing,—the first they had ever heard,—praying for them directly and specifically. The whole village came to hear, with many from neighboring villages. Save the time occupied in eating, we preached to them nearly all day, keeping it up till far into the night. The ladies also had crowds to hear them all the time.” It was not long until Miao, partly of himself and partly at the instigation of other native Christians, came to Chow Yuen, with the determination to establish himself there as a preacher of his new faith. In[186] August of the same year the Mateers again visited him, this time at his new place of residence, and did what they could to help him in his chosen work. His education and character were such as to promise well. Following the usual custom of a Chinaman when about to start a new enterprise, a feast was made; some eighteen guests responded favorably to invitations to be present, and at the close of the entertainment a sort of meeting was held, and Dr. Mateer made a brief statement of what Christianity is, what was the nature of this enterprise, and what was Miao’s relation to it. He told the audience that the mission would pay the rental of a small chapel, but that Miao would work gratuitously, except so far as he might be assisted by the voluntary contributions of his friends. All the Chinese present, with the exception of two members from the Tengchow church, were non-Christians, yet the guests subscribed a sum sufficient to meet the expenses of the feast and to leave a surplus to go toward the support of the preacher. Some of his friends had already promised to help to support him, and had presented him with a fine signboard to hang in front of the room he occupied as his chapel, and another for the back of the stand where he stood when speaking. All this was so exceptional and so hopeful that Dr. Mateer came away rejoicing in this apparent readiness even of the unevangelized to welcome the gospel. But here begins quite another turn of the story. Miao had continued but a few days at this work when a[187] couple of constables seized him and the man from whom he had rented the room for a chapel, and hurried them to the office of the magistrate. The owner was accused of having rented a house to “foreign devils,” and was forthwith beaten most cruelly to the extent of two hundred blows. Miao was then called, charged with evil doctrines and practices, such as kneeling in prayer and calling on unseen personages. In reply he rehearsed the chief truths of the gospel, and in answer to a taunting question, whether Jesus could suffer for him, he said that he so believed. The magistrate ordered him to be beaten fifty blows with the large bamboo and sent him chained to prison. That evening he had a second hearing, and the next morning he was marched off, with a chain about his neck and his hands bound together, thirty miles away to Tsi Hea, but comforting himself in his weariness and suffering by singing Christian hymns. The morning after his arrival he was called before the magistrate and confronted with charges forwarded from Chow Yuen—such as being in league with foreign devils, using false pretense of preaching religion, seducing the people by artful works, being possessed of secret magical arts, taking forcible possession of a house, influencing the people to form combinations dangerous to the state, and a whole rigmarole of offenses, big and little. He was commanded to confess, and when he would not, he was first beaten three hundred blows with the small bamboo, and then he received a hundred more[188] in the face. The second day he was recalled, and when he still would not confess he was again beaten. The magistrate being especially searching in his inquiry as to how Christians prayed, and as to what they prayed for, Miao as the best explanation he could give kneeled and prayed in his presence. At this stage of the affair Dr. Mateer, having been informed of the situation, arrived, and secured a promise from the officer that he would go no further until he heard from his superiors; and on his return to Tengchow he reported the case to the American consul at Chefoo, though with little hope that under the prevalent policy of the American government anything would be done. In an article in “The Presbyterian Banner” he said: “I shall not soon forget my feelings when I saw this Christian brother with a chain round his neck and his body disfigured with bruises for the gospel’s sake. I could not restrain the tears as I looked him in the face. It is one thing to talk of persecution a thousand miles away, and another to see it face to face. I assured him of our sympathy and unceasing prayers in his behalf, and that I would do my utmost to rescue him.... Numbers of the native Christians have boldly visited Miao in prison, and some of them even prayed with him. All have been stirred up to pray as never before, and made to feel that their only hope is that God will interpose on their behalf. This young Christian has been guilty of no offense against the state. The charges preferred by the officers are pure fabrications, the[189] inventions of malice and hatred to the truth, and would never have been entertained by the officer had he not been only too glad of a pretext to get the Christians in his power.” So soon as possible Dr. Mateer went to Chefoo to see the American consul, and on his return home he learned that Miao had been released, under some restrictions as to his whereabouts; but no amends were made for the gross injustice done.

There was still a long sequel to this affair. After the period which has since intervened the story seems to be unworthy of the dignity of a full recital here; though it might be interesting to some as an example of obstacles encountered by the work of missions away from places where foreign influences are commonly powerful enough to prevent them. A condensed account must suffice. It should be remembered that it was in August that the persecution of Miao occurred. The purpose of it, at least in part, was to shut Christianity out of Chow Yuen. To allow this would have been to inflict on that cause a blow that probably would encourage opposition of a like kind in other localities; and therefore it evidently was the duty of the missionaries to prevent it if practicable. Especially was it true of Dr. Mateer that he was too resolute a spirit to yield to such a violation of rights secured under treaty with foreign governments. Consequently late in November he went again to Chow Yuen, in order to secure a house that could be used as a chapel; for in the interval between these visits[190] the room previously occupied for this purpose had gone into other hands and was no longer available. The magistrate also had been promoted, and another filled his place. Dr. Mateer soon found a house, rented it, and secured the approval of the magistrate. Then followed a series of chicanery, brutality, deceit, low cunning, and petty meanness running over several months, and compelling two more trips by him in the dead of winter. Once he took with him two other missionaries, and they went armed with pistols in order to defend themselves if attacked. The old woman who rented the room to him, and who in so doing had been animated by ill will to her relatives and by a desire for money, was seized and beaten by members of her own family, and likewise by the magistrate. The same gang beat the middleman who, according to Chinese custom, had negotiated the bargain. The whole rental was only about ten dollars. Petty and miserable as the affair was, it had its ludicrous features; as, for instance, when Dr. Mateer, in his determination not to be ousted from the house until some satisfactory arrangement was made, picked up the old woman and set her down on the outside, where she exhausted her strength in billingsgate. It was not until the beginning of March that the trouble at Chow Yuen was finally ended. The issue was a triumph in the main for the missionary; another acceptable room was, with the official approval of the magistrate, secured for a chapel, and the money that had been paid for the[191] rental of the other house was refunded. The best of all was the fate that overtook the man who had been the ringleader in the long series of wrongdoings toward the representatives of Christianity. The magistrate did his best to shield this fellow, but at last he had to yield. He called the man into his presence, and this is what was done, as related by Dr. Mateer: “He was required to knock head to me; and then I took him in hand, and though he tried to evade, I compelled him to own up to his sin, and to make a distinct promise of amendment; and then the substance of what he said was put on record by the clerk, and a copy was given me.” It all illustrates what a determined man who has right on his side may accomplish even in an out-of-the-way city in China. It is characteristic of Dr. Mateer that in one place in his Journal during this wearisome affair he says that if it were not for his school he would go to Chow Yuen, and stay there until a settlement is reached. Perhaps in later years Dr. Mateer and his associates would have regarded it as inexpedient to go so far in the defense of a convert; but in those earlier days this was a battle for toleration of Christianity, and not a mere struggle to right the wrongs of an individual convert.

Other incidents of the dark side to the work of caring for the native Christians might be given, but I have thought it best to turn chiefly to the brighter phases of the subject. Of these there were many, and they were of many kinds; but they were of so[192] unsensational a character as not now to be likely to awaken much interest in the reader. They belong to the day of small things for the gospel in China; but let them not be despised; by and by they will be treasured, if the record of them is preserved, as the beginnings of the evangelization of Shantung. When they occurred they brought the joy of approaching harvest. For example, in connection with that last trip out to Chow Yuen, Dr. Mateer wrote:

As it was Saturday, however, I felt I must try if possible to get home, so that the Sabbath service should not be neglected, when so many inquirers were waiting to hear. I found not only the ten who had come from Ping Tu, but some seven or eight from other places. I had, of course, to commence teaching them at once. I gave the half of each day to them, and continued it without interruption for three weeks. They gave diligent attention to the business of learning. At the same time Mrs. Mateer had a class of women who were seeking admission to the church. Last week all who were considered ready were examined by the session and passed upon. Twenty were received,—fifteen men and five women. They were all baptized together yesterday. It was a new sight in Tengchow, to see such a number standing up at once to profess the Lord Jesus Christ. I hope that we are all grateful as we should be for such a signal token of God’s presence with us. Our hearts are enlarged to look for still greater things in the future. Our schoolroom was packed to its utmost capacity, so that when the twenty rose up to present themselves for baptism, it was with great difficulty that room could be made for them to stand. Let[193] us hope that the day of small things is past in this part of China. Chinese officials may persecute us, and foreign governments ignore us, but they cannot restrain God’s Spirit. There are still a number of inquirers.

In the earlier part of his missionary life he frequently made trips of greater or less length to various places in the province to help the native Christians by organizing churches, assisting their pastors, holding services, stimulating to work for the gospel, administering the sacraments, and in every other available manner forwarding the cause of Christianity. Hospitality was gladly extended by the people; and it was as gladly accepted, though not infrequently it introduced to quarters that were odd and even uncanny. Dr. Mateer described guest rooms in which he was entertained, and which were a strange combination of granary, receptacle for lumber, bedchamber and “parlor,” crammed with all sorts of corresponding articles, not excepting a coffin conspicuously displayed in a corner. However, in his own home he lived without ostentation; and on his journeys he did not find it hard to adapt himself to the customs of his native entertainers.

In later years, though for the most part he left itinerations to the younger members of the mission, yet he did not entirely discontinue them. In February, 1896, for instance, he wrote to the secretaries of the Board of Missions:

Three weeks ago Mrs. Mateer and I returned from a trip of seventeen days to the district of Lai Chow, eighty miles distant. Our friends protested against our taking such a trip in the winter and in our state of health. We acted on our own judgment, however, and went, and are benefited rather than otherwise. The trip was exceedingly profitable. We confined our visit to two stations, holding special services each day—morning, afternoon and night. I received eight to the church. At one station a new church was organized, with twenty-six members, a branch from the older station. At this older station there are many inquirers, and the work is in a very hopeful condition, very largely as the result of the influence of a young man, an undergraduate of the college, who has been there teaching a day school for three years.

One of his last journeys of this sort was made not long before his seventieth birthday, and the following is his record concerning it:

From Tengchow we came overland to Wei Hsien in shentzas. I made it a point to spend the Sabbath at Lai Chow fu, and went out and preached morning and afternoon to our little church at Ning Kie, which is three miles from the city. Dr. Mills and I were instrumental in founding the station some thirty-six years ago. It has grown very slowly. Mrs. Mateer had visited it frequently in subsequent years, and had taught the women, and there are now a goodly proportion of women in the church. In the earlier years evangelists were sent to labor in the region, and to preach to and teach the people. In those days opposition to the gospel was very great, and progress was[195] very slow. In later years, owing to change of policy, evangelists were not sent, save on an occasional visit, and the church declined, though it still lived. A few years ago special efforts were made, and the church increased somewhat, and finally a native pastor was settled over this church, in connection with another about fifteen miles away. Before the expiration of the first year the Boxer uprising brought the arrest and beating of the pastor and much persecution to the church. The pastor did not return. The church was discouraged, and the pastor was called elsewhere. If we now had an available man, he could be located at Lai Chow fu; but there is no man.

His last country trip was made some time in December, 1907. This is the record: “Two weeks ago I went down on the railroad to Kiaochow to assist our native pastors in a meeting for the women. There were about seventy there from various other stations, besides those in town. The meeting was most interesting, and must do a great deal of good. It was projected and managed by the native pastors on their own account. There were five native pastors present, and helping in the meeting. Many women spoke and some made set addresses.” There were approximately one hundred and fifty present, many of whom walked miles to be there. His own speech was a plea to the mothers to consecrate their sons to the ministry, and the tears ran down his cheeks as, while making it, he spoke of his own mother.

The reader needs to bear in mind that Dr. Mateer did not operate as an independent individual, but as[196] the agent of a thoroughly organized system, in conformity with the government of the Presbyterian Church and the regulations of the Board of Missions. Of these agencies there is one that lies wholly outside the constitutional provisions of the denomination, but that is approved as a part of the machinery needed for the foreign field. This is what is called the “mission.” Its members are the missionaries sent out by the Board and residing near enough to meet together for the transaction of business. To the mission belong such duties as to locate members and appoint their work, to make annual estimates of funds and reënforcements needed, to receive the money from the Board, and to apply it, according to directions, general or specific. Dr. Mateer had much to do with inaugurating the “executive committees” now so widely adopted by the missions. Many questions affecting the operations sustained through the Board, of necessity came before the annual mission meeting for discussion and action. Lines of policy as to conduct of the work out in the field, if involving important features, are left for decision to the Board; but full and frank consideration of them by the members of the missions, either when in session or as individuals, is usually welcomed.

An important discussion in which Dr. Nevius and Dr. Mateer were especially conspicuous arose on their field over a theory advanced by Dr. Nevius in his “Methods of Missions.” It was no personal controversy, though, of course, the respective personalities[197] of two such strong, positive, earnest men inevitably tinged it. The question at issue mainly concerned the pecuniary support of native Christians as agents in the evangelization of their own people. No attempt need here be made to state with fullness the positions taken or the arguments employed. Broadly, the policy advocated by Dr. Nevius was that the main work of evangelization should be thrown on the native Christians, and that those who could read and understand “the doctrine” should voluntarily and without compensation instruct those who could not; while the foreign missionaries, paid as heretofore by the Board, should give themselves to a general superintendence and to periodical examinations of the catechumens and scholars taught by the native church members. Dr. Mateer was just as earnestly as Dr. Nevius in favor of utilizing native Christians in the evangelization of their people, and was just as eager to develop among them self-support, but he was thoroughly convinced that conditions were not ripe in China for the radical policy of withholding from native laborers, as a rule, all pay from the funds of the Board; and that an attempt of this sort before the proper time would result in serious disaster. This brief statement will suffice to show that it was a question over which wise and good men might readily differ, and that the fact that they discussed it earnestly and fully is a sign of healthy life. It seems to me to be a problem that cannot be satisfactorily solved by theoretical argument, or by votes in a[198] mission, or by even the decision of a board. The only crucial test is actual trial. All that needs to be said further as to this discussion is, on the one hand, to emphasize the fact that Dr. Mateer, in his care of the native Christians and churches, often labored hard and long to bring up congregations, in the support of their pastors and evangelists, to the measure of giving for which they were able; and, on the other hand, that he thought he saw in certain fields evidence of the bad consequences of the policy he controverted.

Until it is desirable to organize the churches of a given foreign missionary field, after the order prescribed by the Presbyterian form of government, the mission must continue in the entire supervision; but it is the practice, just as soon as the way is open, to set up presbyteries and synods, and to commit to them those matters which belong to their jurisdiction. In these bodies ruling elders, as the official lay representatives of the native churches, and all the native ordained ministers sit as the equals in authority with the ordained foreign ministers. The Board, unless in exceptional cases, has not been accustomed to turn over to them the administration of the funds forwarded for use on the field, or such matters as concern the policy and plans it adopts; but all that pertains to the organization of churches, the settlement of pastors, the acceptance of candidates for the ministry and their licensure and ordination, and the administration of discipline for the ministers, with complaints and appeals from the churches, is left to the presbytery.[199] Of course, as converts and churches and native ministers increase, the tendency is to put them, as the majority, in control in these bodies. It is a system which opens the way for some dangers; nevertheless it is, in the nature of the situation, the only course to pursue, and unless abused, it has a most wholesome influence on the native Christians. It brings home to them the fact that, equally with the foreigners who have given them the gospel, they have privileges as members of the church of Christ, and also their responsibility as such. Dr. Mateer believed with all his heart in the setting up of these regular ecclesiastical bodies so soon as possible. Late in November, 1865, he was one of the little band who organized the Presbytery of Shantung, at a meeting held at Chefoo, when as yet there were no native ministers to take part. The next meeting was held the following October at Tengchow, and he was elected moderator and stated clerk. It is evident that if a presbytery is to be of any considerable value to a native member the language used must be his own, not that of the foreign missionary. With this understanding, the following from Dr. Mateer’s Journal concerning that meeting can be better appreciated: “It was voted that hereafter all the proceedings be in Chinese, and at it we went. It was very awkward at first, making and putting motions, but after some practice we got along better. We had a very pleasant meeting indeed. One of the chief items of business was a call presented by the native church for Mr. Mills,[200] which he accepted, and we arranged for his installation.”

It was ten years before such progress had been made out in the province that it was practicable to hold a presbytery in the rural regions. In a letter to his mother, dated December 24, 1877, Dr. Mateer said: “The meeting of the presbytery in the country marks an era in our progress in Shantung. Many of the Christians from all the region were assembled, and evidently got much good from what they saw and heard. Our presbytery is getting to be an important event, and a power among the native churches. Our desire is that it may be more and more felt.” Sometimes the meetings were saddened by the cases of discipline, after a native ministry began to be enrolled; but if the case demanded it, even deposition from the sacred office and excommunication from the church were imposed, and the native elders and ministers were sturdy supporters of adequate sentences. In contrast with this was the joy of receiving candidates for the ministry, and sending them out to preach the gospel as they seemed to be ready for that work. Occasionally a man up in years, and without thorough education, but apparently qualified to be effective as a preacher, is authorized by the presbytery to “exercise his gifts”; but usually those who offer themselves are young men who after long courses of study, and careful examination, are sent on this errand. For instance, in his report for 1874 as stated clerk, Dr. Mateer said:

Considerable time was taken up in the presbytery by the examination of candidates for the ministry. These were thorough, and so far as they went were sustained with great credit. One candidate was licensed to preach. He is not young, as licentiates usually are, being about sixty. He is, however, full of zeal for God, and may yet do good service. One of our licentiates was ordained as an evangelist. This is the first native preacher who has been ordained by this presbytery. It marks a new step in our work, one for which we are devoutly thankful to God. We have no more important work to do than to raise up well-qualified natives to preach the gospel to their countrymen. We trust this one will soon be followed by others.

Dr. Mateer was careful to treat the native elders and ministers as the equals of the foreign missionaries, in the ecclesiastical bodies and elsewhere; and as a consequence he commanded their confidence, so that he was able sometimes to render important services by healing threatened dissensions. This, as might be supposed, was especially true of his own “boys,” who had as students learned to revere both his judgment and his fraternal spirit.

In writing to “The Presbyterian Banner” concerning the meeting of the Presbytery of Shantung, in September, 1869, he said: “The matter of the formation of a synod in China was discussed, and a circular letter was prepared, and ordered to be sent to the other presbyteries urging the propriety of such a step at once. It is now twenty years since the General Assembly took action looking toward and[202] opening the way for the formation of this synod.” That body held its first meeting at Shanghai in October of the following year. The synod in the Presbyterian system is the next higher organization above the presbytery, and consists of all the ordained ministers of a larger district already containing three or more presbyteries, and of ruling elders representing the churches; or it may be constituted from delegates appointed by the presbyteries on a fixed basis. It has the right to review all presbyterial action, and also has authority to originate measures within its constitutional jurisdiction. Among the missionaries in China at that time there was a considerable number who regarded the synod as a sort of fifth wheel to the coach, and as not likely to be capable of rendering a service worth its cost in money and time. Under indirect form this phase of the subject came into warm and protracted debate in that first meeting, and may be said to have been fought out to a settlement. Dr. Mateer was a strong believer in the importance of the synod, and in debate, and in other ways, he threw the whole weight of his influence avowedly on that side of the issue, and helped to win. Other problems were of such a character as also to arouse his interest to a high degree. Ought the language used in the body to be limited to the Mandarin or ought it to include local dialects? On this question, of course, he stood for the Mandarin. Ought a theological institution to be established; and if so, where? As to this, a sort of compromise[203] was effected, and an appeal was sent home for a share in the “Memorial Fund,” to establish in China one or more such schools, but leaving location to be determined later. The synod consisted of twenty-four members, ten of them being foreign missionaries, and fourteen native pastors and elders. The proceedings had to be translated, during the various sessions, into several different dialects, in order to be made intelligible to all. The body sat for ten days, and then adjourned to assemble the next year at Ningpo. It was in connection with Dr. Mateer’s attendance at Shanghai that he was induced to take temporary charge of the mission press.

The second meeting of the synod was held at Ningpo. Dr. Mateer was chosen moderator. Writing in his Journal concerning that meeting, he said:

The great difficulty of the synod was the language, and this was indeed no small embarrassment. As I was moderator, I felt it more than any other. It was all I could do to tell what was going on at times. If it had not been for the practice I had through the summer in Shanghai, I should have been quite lost. The most interesting discussion we had was on the qualifications of candidates for the ministry. The native members insisted that they must learn English, and the foreign members opposed. The native brethren finally carried their point. The discussion at some points of its progress was really exciting, and not a little amusing.

The next meeting was held at Chefoo, and as the retiring moderator he preached the opening sermon.[204] In his Journal he says: “I had prepared the sermon quite carefully, having written it all out, and so had to read it. It is the only sermon I ever wrote out fully in Chinese. I found reading a Chinese sermon very awkward and embarrassing.” A committee of which he was a member had been appointed by the preceding meeting at Ningpo to prepare for deliberative bodies a compendium of technical terms,—for the lack of which in Chinese they had been seriously hindered,—and also to formulate rules of order. They made a report which was approved, and authorized for use in the synod and in the presbyteries.

One other excerpt from the records of his pen must conclude the story of his work in the synod, though it was continued down through his subsequent years. He said:

Delegates, officially deputed, were present from the mission of the Presbyterian Church South; also from the mission of the United Presbyterian Church in Scotland; and from the independent Presbytery of Amoy, composed of the missions of the American Dutch Reformed and the English Presbyterian Churches combined. They all expressed a desire for mutual coöperation, and for the ultimate union of all the Presbyterians in China into one Chinese Presbyterian Church. A committee was appointed to correspond with the various Presbyterian bodies or missions in China, and prepare the way for an ultimate union. This union may not be accomplished for many years, but that it should come as soon as practicable seems to be the almost unanimous opinion of all concerned.

In 1907 one long advance was made toward the realization of the desire so earnestly expressed by that synod a third of a century before. After preliminary consultations extending over a number of years, representatives of eight distinct missions, operated by as many different Presbyterian denominations of Europe and America, met together, and constituted “The Presbyterian Church of China,” and also offered a welcome to any other Chinese churches of like faith and practice to unite with them. Dr. Mateer thought that on account of the size of China and the consequent expense of travel and variety of speech, it would be better to make two ecclesiastical bodies out of this material. Belonging to the new organization, there were, besides the foreign missionaries, about a hundred native ministers, and forty thousand communicants. Dr. Mateer was not a member of the body which met to declare and organize this union; but, being present, he was invited to sit as a corresponding member. Under the regulations of his American denomination, the names of ordained foreign missionaries entering such new churches on the foreign field as that just mentioned are enrolled in the minutes of the home General Assembly on a separate list; and these ministers are entitled to be received by the presbyteries without the examination required of those who come from other denominations in foreign countries. This was the ecclesiastical status of Dr. Mateer when he died. He was a[206] member of the Presbyterian Church in China; but he was still enrolled by the church of his fathers.

The highest of all the organizations within the Presbyterian system is the General Assembly. Its supervision, within constitutional limits, extends over synods, presbyteries, and individual ministers and churches, and it has other distinct functions pertaining to the entire denomination throughout the world. Dr. Mateer was a commissioner from his presbytery in China to the Assembly which met in 1880 in New York; and again to the Assembly which met in Los Angeles in 1903. In this last he was nominated for moderator, but failed of election, for reasons not in any way disparaging to him. It is well understood that an election to that office is contingent on so many incidental things that the choice can seldom be foreseen. Local influences at Los Angeles were strongly thrown in favor of the successful candidate, meaning by these the representation in the Assembly and the Presbyterian visitors from all the Rocky Mountain country and from the Pacific coast. Besides, to many of the commissioners Dr. Mateer was a man but slightly known. His work had been great, but it had also been quiet. Nor when on his furloughs had he in speaking to the churches won renown by bursts of missionary eloquence. He made a very creditable run for the moderatorship, and was beaten by a man of high standing in the church. He was appointed chairman of the Judicial Committee.

The change of the name of the school which Dr. Mateer had founded and nurtured for nearly two decades was made at the formal request of the members of the Shantung Presbyterian Mission, sent to the Board under date of February 14, 1881. It was accompanied by a “plan,” and that part of the paper was as follows:

I. That the Tengchow Boys’ High School be organized into and constituted a college, to be called “The College of Shantung.”

II. That it be carried on and governed by a board of six trustees nominated by the Shantung Mission, and confirmed by the Board of Foreign Missions.

III. That the college embrace a six years’ course of study in Chinese classics, general science, and Christian ethics; including particularly “The Four Books” and “Five Classics,” Chinese history, with Biblical and general history, mathematics, physical, mental and moral sciences, evidences of Christianity, and so forth.

IV. That the aim of the college be to educate thoroughly both in Chinese and western learning; and[208] to do this from the standpoint and under the influence of Christianity.

V. That the Chinese language be the medium of instruction throughout the course, English being taught only as an extra in special cases.

VI. That there be connected with the college a department to prepare pupils to enter it.

VII. That it be the ultimate design to make the students attending the college self-supporting; and that in order to do this the style of living be strictly on the Chinese plane; and that natives be trained as fast as possible to man the college with efficient professors.

VIII. That the college be located for the present at Tengchow, leaving open the question of its removal to a more central position at some future time.

For this request the main reasons were added in extenso. They are too long to be given here; but they can be, in the main, compressed into two general statements. One of these was the need of a high-grade institution of this sort in northern China, and especially in the great province of Shantung. It was conceded that Tengchow was not as central a location as the college might ultimately require; but, being a literary city and a treaty port, and as yet free from the special temptations and corrupting influences of a mixed foreign population, it at least temporarily had marked advantages. The other general statement is that the institution was already in fact a college by reason of its curriculum, and was equipped with buildings and outfit suitable for the advanced work which a college ought to do. In order[209] that it might retain the position it had won, and in order to secure endowment and reputation, the new name was very desirable.

In a letter dated April 4, 1885, the mission appealed to the Board for a new house to be built for the accommodation of the chief foreign assistant in the college, and incidentally gave a statement as to the plant. They said: “At a remarkably small cost to the Board it has come into possession of plain but extensive premises, which are very well adapted to the purpose. With the small additions and changes proposed for the current year it will have good boarding and dormitory accommodations for eighty or ninety pupils, with roomy yards and courts. It has also two large schoolrooms, three recitation rooms, one large lecture room, a philosophical apparatus room, a chemical apparatus room with a shop and storeroom. It has also a substantial stone observatory, costing one hundred and sixty dollars.” In 1894, a grant for new buildings having been made by the Board, steps looking to their erection were taken. Writing of these, March 23, 1895, Dr. Mateer said, “We staked off the ground to-day, and will make a start at once.” That year, however, on account of his duties on the committee for the revision of the Mandarin translation of the Scriptures, he laid down the presidency of the college, though he did not cease to assist in the instruction and in the management of it. February 8, 1896, he wrote to the Board: “The headship of the college[210] is now in Mr. Hayes’s hands, and with it the major part of the work. I am especially thankful that the interests of the college are in the hands of a capable man; nevertheless, when I am in Tengchow a considerable share of the general responsibility still clings to me, and no inconsiderable share of the work, and Mrs. Mateer’s share is in nowise decreased. Our new buildings are finished, and are an unspeakable convenience. The wonder is how we did without them so long. They have served to raise our college in the estimate of the people of the whole city.” These new buildings consisted of a main edifice of two stories, dormitories, and chemical laboratory. The old temple structure was converted into a chapel and various alterations were made as to uses of the smaller houses. The original estimate of the outlay was eight thousand dollars. Whether this sum was sufficient is not stated in any of the records that have come into my hands; but inasmuch as nothing is said about a deficit, it is probable that there was none, except such as Dr. Mateer and others on the ground met out of their own pockets. The new buildings were supplied with steam heat and electric light from a house specially fitted for the purpose, with a tall chimney that seemed as if a landmark for all the region; and some other additions were subsequently made by means of special contributions. Taken altogether, the plant, into the possession of which the Tengchow College eventually came, though consisting largely of houses that were externally without[211] architectural pretension, and in part of the Chinese order and somewhat inadequate, was extensive enough to indicate the magnitude of the work the institution was doing.

One of the things on which the members of the mission laid stress in their request for the elevation of the school to the rank and title of a college was that it already had “a good collection of philosophical and chemical apparatus, believed to be the largest and best-assorted collection in China.” Dr. Mateer also was accustomed to speak of this apparatus with a pride that was an expression, not of vanity, but of satisfaction in a personal achievement, that was eminently worth while. For instance, in his letter to his college classmates in 1897, he said: “I have given some time and considerable thought and money to the making of philosophical apparatus. I had a natural taste in this direction, and I saw that in China the thing to push in education was physical science. We now have as good an outfit of apparatus as the average college in the United States,—more than twice as much as Jefferson had when we graduated; two-thirds of it made on the ground at my own expense.” It was a slow, long job to produce it. Early in his career as a teacher in the Tengchow school he had little need of apparatus because the pupils were not of a grade to receive instruction in physics; but it was not very long until he recorded his difficulty, for instance, in teaching pneumatics without an air pump. Some of his[212] instruction at that general period was given to a class of students for the ministry. He was always careful to let it be known that his school was in no degree a theological seminary; he held it to be vital to have it understood that it was an institution for what we would call secular instruction, though saturated through and through with Christianity. But again and again throughout his life he took his share in teaching native candidates for the ministry; and before the college proper afforded them opportunity to study western science he was accustomed to initiate these young men into enough knowledge of the workings of nature to fit them to be better leaders among their own people. Thus, writing in his Journal, February, 1874, concerning his work with the theological class that winter, he said:

I heard them a lesson every day,—one day in philosophy [physics] and the next in chemistry. I went thus over optics and mechanics, and reviewed electricity, and went through the volume on chemistry. I practically gave all my time to the business of teaching and experimenting, and getting apparatus. I had carpenters and tinners at work a good part of the time. I got up most of the things needed for illustrating mechanics, and a number in optics; also completed my set of fixtures for frictional electricity, and added a good number of articles to my set of galvanic apparatus. With my new battery I showed the electrical light and the deflagration of metals very well. The Ruhmkorff coil performed very well indeed, and made a fine display. I had an exhibition of two nights with the magic lantern,[213] using the oxyhydrogen light. In chemistry I made all the gases and more than are described in the book, and experimented on them fully. They gave me no small amount of trouble, but I succeeded with them all very well. I made both light and heavy carbureted hydrogen, and experimented with them. Then I made coal gas enough to light up the room through the whole evening. Altogether I have made for the students a fuller course of experiments in philosophy or chemistry than I saw myself. They studied well and appreciated very much what they saw. I trust the issue will prove that my time has not been misspent. I have learned a great deal myself, especially in the practical part of experiment-making. It may be that I may yet have occasion to turn this knowledge to good account. I have also gathered in all a very good set of apparatus, which I shall try to make further use of.

It was in this way that the collection was begun. As he added to it in succeeding years, every piece had a history that lent it an individual interest. Much of it continued to be produced by his own hand, or at least under his own superintendence, and at the expense of himself, or of his friends, who at his solicitation contributed money for this use. Some of the larger and more costly articles were donated by people to whom he appealed for help, and therefore peculiar personal associations clustered about them. For instance, when home on his first furlough, he met Cyrus W. Field, on a voyage to Europe, and interested him in the Tengchow School. After reaching China again, he wrote a letter to Mr. Field[214] and solicited from him the gift of a dynamo. In the course of some months a favorable response was received; and, eventually, that dynamo rendered most valuable service in lighting the buildings. Two friends, whose acquaintance he had made in the United States,—Mr. Stuart, of New York, and Mrs. Baird, of Philadelphia,—gave him money to buy a ten-inch reflecting telescope, with proper mountings and accompaniments; and when, as so often happens in such matters, there was a considerable deficit, his “Uncle John” came to the relief. In ordering through an acquaintance a set of telegraph instruments he explained that the Board was not furnishing the means to pay for it, but that it was purchased with his own money, supplemented by the gifts of certain friends of missions and education.

This must suffice as to the history of that collection of apparatus. It is, however, enough to show why he had so much pride in it.

It was in 1895 that he laid down the headship of the college. He took this step all the more readily because in his successor, Rev. W. M. Hayes, now of Tsingchow fu, he had entire confidence as to both character and ability. On his arrival in China Mr. Hayes was immediately associated with Dr. Mateer in the school, and showed himself to be a thoroughly kindred spirit. He continued at the head of the college until 1901, when he resigned his position in order to start for the governor of the province a new college at Tsinan fu. It may not[215] be out of place to add here that the governor at that time was Yuan Shih K’ai, a man of large and liberal views, and that there was, as to the new college he was founding, in the requirements nothing that made it improper for a Christian and a minister of the gospel to be at the head of it. It is due to Mr. Hayes to say that in accepting this position he was confident that he had the approval of nearly all the missionaries associated with him. However, it was not very long until Yuan was transferred to the viceroyalty of the province of Chi-li, which dominates Peking, and a successor took his place in Shantung, who was of a different mind, and who introduced such usages into the new institution that Mr. Hayes felt conscientiously bound to lay down his office. He is now one of the instructors in the theological department of the Shantung Christian University, into which the college at Tengchow has been merged.

In the request of the members of the mission for the elevation of the Tengchow school to the rank and title of a college one of the articles specifically left the ultimate location of the institution an open question. The main objection to Tengchow was its isolation. It is away up on the coast of the peninsula that constitutes the eastern end of the province, and it is cut off from the interior by a range of rather rugged hills in the rear. Though a treaty port, its commerce by sea has long been inconsiderable, and gives no promise of increase. At[216] the time when that request was made, it is likely that some, though signing, would have preferred that the college should be removed down to Chefoo. To any project of that sort Dr. Mateer was inflexibly, and with good reason, opposed; and it never assumed such strength as to give him much apprehension. Along in the later “eighties” and in the early “nineties” the question of location again arose in connection with the Anglo-Chinese college which Dr. A. P. Happer, of the Presbyterian missions in China, undertook to found. He progressed so far as to raise a considerable sum of money for endowment and had a board appointed for the control. The project at no stage received the hearty support of Dr. Mateer, though, of course, so long as it did not threaten hurt to his own college or the ideas which it represented he did not make any fight against it. Dr. Happer had long been a missionary in southern China, and was beyond question earnestly devoted to his work; his idea was that by means of the Anglo-Chinese college he would raise up an efficient native ministry for the churches. The conviction of Dr. Mateer was that, so far as this result is concerned, the institution, by the very nature of the plan, must be a comparative failure. English was to be given a large place in the curriculum, and for students it was to draw especially on such as could pay their own way. In a long letter dated March 18, 1887, called out by the question of the location of the proposed college, and signed by Dr. Mateer and[217] Mr. Hayes, they frankly expressed to one of the secretaries of the Board their reasons for believing so strongly that an institution conducted on the plan proposed could not realize the main object which its founder sought. They had found it necessary years before, in the Tengchow College, to meet the question as to the introduction of English, and the decision was in favor of using Chinese alone in the curriculum; and so long as the school remained in charge of Mateer and Hayes, they rigidly excluded their own native tongue. When the Tengchow school was just emerging into the Tengchow College, Dr. Mateer thus expressed his convictions on that subject:

If we should teach English, and on this account seek the patronage of the officers and the rich, no doubt we could get some help and countenance. We would be compelled, however, to give up in good measure the distinctively religious character of the school. We would get a different class of pupils, and the religious tone of the school would soon be changed in spite of us. Another result would also be almost inevitable, namely, the standard of Chinese scholarship would fall. The study of English is fatal to high acquisition in the Chinese classics. We would doubtless have great trouble in keeping our pupils after they were able to talk English; they would at once go seeking employment where their English would bring them good wages. Tengchow, moreover, is not a port of foreign residents, but rather an isolated and inland city, and it would not be a good place to locate a school in which teaching English is made a prominent feature.

His observation since had served to confirm him in the conviction of years before, and in the letter to a secretary of the Board, Hayes united with him in stating clearly and forcibly their joint opinion on the subject.

In casting about for a location for the Anglo-Chinese college, the choice narrowed down so that it lay between Canton, Nanking, Shanghai, and Tientsin. Chefoo was mentioned, but not seriously considered, yet even the possibility of location there, although remote, was so important a matter to the Shantung College that it compelled the men at the head of that institution to be on the alert so long as the question was undetermined. By and by Dr. Happer became disposed to turn over the management of his projected college to some other person, and he wrote to Dr. Mateer, sounding him as to the vacancy, should it occur. The scheme at that time seemed to be to locate the new institution at Shanghai, and to unite with it the Shantung College; and in a long letter in response, written January 9, 1890, Dr. Mateer went very candidly over the entire situation. Among other things he said:

It will be necessary, however, to settle the policy of the college, and also its headship, before making any definite move. Whoever undertakes to make English and self-support prominent features, and then aims at a Christian college, has, as things are at present in China, a difficult contract on his hands. I for one do not feel called to embark in such an enterprise,[219] and my name may as well be counted out.... Nor can the school at Tengchow be moved away from Shantung. We might go, and the apparatus might be moved; but not the pupils. It is futile to talk of them or any considerable number of them coming to Shanghai; nor will pupils go from central China north to be educated save in exceptional cases. The distance and the expense are both too great. Each section of China must have its own schools.

Not long afterward the situation was such that Dr. Mateer and Mr. Hayes addressed to the trustees of the endowment a paper in which a suggestion was made that under certain conditions the fund raised by Dr. Happer should be turned over to the Shantung College. In that paper there was a frank statement of their attitude as to English. They were entirely willing to introduce that language, but only under such conditions that it could not seriously alter the character and work of the institution. The paper is too long for introduction here. It will suffice to quote from a letter sent by Dr. Mateer at the same time to one of the secretaries of the Board, and dated February 9, 1891:

There are one or two things I want to say in a less formal way. One is that in case our proposition in regard to English is not satisfactory, you will take care that the proposed school is not located in Chefoo as a rival of the college in Tengchow. It would be nothing short of suicidal for the Board to allow such a proceeding, and would be a great wrong, both to myself and to Mr. Hayes. We do not propose[220] to engage in such a contest, but would at once resign, and seek some other sphere of labor. Again, I wish to call your attention to what is the real inwardness of our plan for English; namely, to teach it in such a way, and to such parties only, as will insure its being used in literary and scientific lines. We will not teach English merely to anyone, nor teach it to anyone who wants merely English. We will teach it to men, not to boys. Lastly, Mr. Hayes and I have for several years had in mind the idea of a post-graduate course in applied science, and have been waiting for my visit home to push it forward; and even if the present endowment scheme fails, we will still feel like pushing it, and introducing some English as already indicated.

Nothing came of the suggestion that the money should be turned over to the Shantung institution.

Dr. Mateer still continued to help in the college at Tengchow, as he had time and opportunity. Early in the “nineties,” and after the movement just considered had failed to materialize, he solicited from the Board the privilege of seeking to raise an endowment fund, but at that time he was unable to secure their consent. At the beginning of 1900 the Board changed their attitude, and authorized an effort to be made to secure contributions for this purpose. Of course, in order to be successful in this undertaking, a satisfactory plan for the control of the college was a necessity; and as to this Dr. Mateer was consulted, and he gave his opinions freely. His preference was expressed for a charter[221] giving the endowment a separate legal status, but providing that the members of the Board of Foreign Missions, acting in this distinct capacity, should be the trustees. The general oversight of the institution he thought should be assigned to a “Field Board of Directors,” composed of members of the Shantung Mission. This was not a scheme that entirely satisfied him. The specter, on the one hand, of a diversion of the college into a school for teaching English, and, on the other, of making it a theological seminary, would not altogether down; but in the ultimate appeal to the members of the Board of Foreign Missions he recognized a safeguard that was not likely to prove inadequate. When he was on furlough in 1903, he spent a considerable part of his time in soliciting permanent funds for the college, then already removed to its present location; but he was unable to secure much aid. Ada was with him; and she says of his experience in this work, “He was so accustomed to success in whatever he undertook that it was hard for him to bear the indifference of the rich to what seemed to him so important.”

The transfer of the college to another location was a question that would not permanently rest. So long as it was whether it should go from Tengchow to Chefoo, or be swallowed up in another more pretentious institution at Shanghai, and not yet in existence, it was comparatively easy to silence the guns of those who talked removal. But at the[222] opening of the twentieth century, even out there in north China, important changes indirectly affecting this problem had occurred. The missions had been strengthened by a number of new men, who came fresh from the rush of affairs in the United States, and eager to put their force into the work in China in such a way that it would tell the most. Even China itself was beginning to awake from the torpor of ages. In Shantung the Germans were building railroads, one of them right through the heart of the province, on by way of Wei Hsien to the capital, and from that point to be afterward connected with Tientsin and Peking. It is not strange that, under the new conditions, the young members of the mission especially should desire to place the college which loomed up so largely and effectually in the work to which they had consecrated their lives where it could be in closer touch with the swarming millions of the land and with the movements of the new times. February 26, 1901, Dr. Mateer wrote to the Board:

At a meeting of the Shantung Mission it was voted to remove the Tengchow College to Wei Hsien, and then give up the Tengchow station. Being at Shanghai, engaged in the translation work, I was not able to be present at the mission meeting, and it seems incumbent on me to say something on a matter of so much importance, and that concerns me so much.... First, with reference to the college. The major part of my life has been given to building up the Tengchow College, and, of course,[223] I feel a deep interest in its future. As you can easily imagine, I am naturally loath to see it moved from the place where Providence placed it; and to see all the toil and thought given to fitting up the buildings, with heating, lighting, and the other appliances go for nothing; as also the loss of the very considerable sums of money I have myself invested in it. The Providence which placed the college in Tengchow should not be lightly ignored, nor the natural advantages which Tengchow affords be counted for nothing. It is not difficult to make out a strong case for Wei Hsien, and I am not disposed to dispute its advantages, except it be to question the validity of the assumption that a busy commercial center is necessarily the best place to locate a college. In view of the whole question, it seems to me that unless an adequate endowment can be secured—one which will put the college on a new basis—it will not pay the Board to make the sacrifice involved in moving the college to Wei Hsien.... However, I would rather go to Wei Hsien than be opposed strongly at Tengchow.

On that part of his contention he lost; and it would be useless now to try to ascertain the respective merits of the two sides to that question. The second part of the letter just cited discussed the abandonment of Tengchow as a mission station. The plan of those who took the affirmative of this debate was to leave that city to the Southern Baptists, who almost forty years before had preceded the Presbyterians a few weeks in a feeble occupation, but who had been entirely overshadowed by the development of the college. For the retention of the station Dr. Mateer[224] pleaded with his utmost fervor and eloquence. Though the decision remained in uncertainty while he lived, and the uncertainty gave him much anxiety, large gifts, coming since, from a consecrated layman, have rendered the retention of the Tengchow station secure. The wisdom of the decision is vindicated by present conditions. At the close of 1909 the station reported a city church with three hundred members; a Sabbath school which sometimes numbers five hundred pupils; thirty out-stations with about five hundred members; twenty-four primary schools, giving instruction to three hundred and sixteen boys and girls, and taught by graduates of the higher schools of the station; a girls’ high school with an average enrollment of forty-six pupils, and for the year then closing having twelve graduates, nearly all of whom became teachers; a boys’ high school with an attendance of forty, and sending up a number of graduates to the college at Wei Hsien or to other advanced institutions, and having a normal department with a model primary department; and also a helpers’ summer school; besides other machinery for reaching with the gospel the three millions of people gathered in the neighborhood of Tengchow. Nor has the work of the Presbyterians in the least hampered that of the Southern Baptists.

The actual removal of the college was not effected until the autumn of 1904. In the interval between the time when it was determined to take this step and when it was actually accomplished a number of[225] important things affecting the course of Dr. Mateer’s life occurred. Mr. Hayes, as elsewhere stated, resigned the presidency; and Rev. Paul D. Bergen, who had come out to the mission in 1883, was chosen in his place. Dr. Mateer had been so closely associated with Mr. Hayes, and had such complete confidence in him, that the resignation came almost like a personal bereavement; but he rose nobly out of the depths, and wrote home to the Board: “Mr. Bergen is clearly the best man that our missions in Shantung afford for the place. He is very popular with the Chinese, which is much in his favor. The time is as auspicious as it is important. Educational affairs are taking a great boom, and it looks as if Shantung was going to lead the van. If it is properly supported the college should do a great work.” During the interval here covered Dr. Mateer came to the United States on his third and last furlough, reaching China again in the autumn of 1903, and bringing with him some substantial fruits of his efforts for the college.

On his arrival he was confronted by another great problem as to the institution. A combination had already been almost effected by the American Presbyterians and the English Baptists in Shantung for a union in the work of higher education in the province. The matter had already gone so far that, although he feared that the scheme would bring about such radical changes as to endanger the real usefulness of the institution, yet he made no serious[226] opposition, and it went steadily forward to consummation. Under the plan adopted the Shantung Christian University was established; and provision was made for a joint maintenance of three distinct colleges in it, each at a different location, chosen because of mission and other conditions—a college of arts and science at Wei Hsien, a theological college at Tsingchow fu, and a medical college at Tsinan fu. The plan also provides for a university council, to which is committed the general control of the institution, subject, of course, to certain fundamental regulations; and of this body Dr. Mateer was one of the original members. The first meeting was held at Tsingchow fu near the end of 1903. Writing to one of the secretaries of the Board of Missions concerning this, he said: “All were present. Our meeting was quite harmonious. We elected professors and discussed and drew out some general principles relating to the curriculum and the general management. Theoretically things seem quite promising; the difficulty will come in practical administration. The buildings at Wei Hsien are all up to the first floor. There should be no difficulty in getting all ready by next autumn, at which time the college ought by all means to be moved.” Early the next summer he wrote: “I started to Wei Hsien about a month ago, overland. I spent over two weeks taking down and packing my goods, and so forth, including workshop, boiler, engine, dynamo, and so forth. I found it quite a serious undertaking[227] to get all my miscellaneous goods packed up, ready for shipment on boats to Wei Hsien.... I remained in Wei Hsien twenty-four days, unpacking my effects, getting my workshop in order, and planning for the heating and lighting outfit.” In the same letter he expressed himself as follows concerning the theological college at Tsingchow fu: “It was certainly understood at the meeting of the directors last winter that it was to be much more than a theological seminary in the strict sense of the word. It was understood, in fact, that it would have two departments,—a training school and a theological seminary proper. In this way only can the full measure of our needs be supplied.... With this organization it is not unlikely that the school at Tsingchow fu will be larger than the college at Wei Hsien.”

This narrative as to Dr. Mateer and the Shantung College is now approaching its close, and most readers probably will prefer that, so far as practicable, the remainder of it shall be told in his own words. December 21, 1904, he wrote to a friend: “The college is now fully moved to Wei Hsien, and has in it about a hundred and twenty students. The new buildings are quite fine,—much superior to those we had in Tengchow. Mrs. Mateer and I have moved to Wei Hsien to live and will make this our home. We are living in the same house with my brother Robert, making all one family. This arrangement suits us very well. I am not teaching in the college,[228] but I would not feel at home if I were away from it. I hope it has a great future.” In his report for himself and wife, for the year 1904-05, he says: “The greater part of the autumn was spent in overseeing the building and fitting up of a workshop, and in superintending the setting up of a new thirty-two horse-power steam boiler for heating and lighting the college, together with a system of steam piping for the same; also the setting up of engine and dynamo and wiring the college for electric lights. I also set up a windmill and pump and tank, with pipes for supplying the college and several dwelling houses with water. I also built for myself and Mrs. Mateer a seven-kien house in Chinese style, affording a study, bedroom, storeroom, box room, and coal room.” This little, narrow, one-story house constituted their home during the rest of his life in Wei Hsien, though they still look their meals with the other family. They sometimes called this house “the Borderland,” for only a narrow path separated them from the small foreign cemetery at the extreme corner of the compound. In November, 1905, he wrote to one of the secretaries of the Board: “The college is, of course, delighted at the prospect of a Science Hall. I take some credit for having prepared the way for this gift from Mr. Converse.” In his report for the year 1906 he said: “During the early part of the winter I spent considerable time, planning, estimating, and ordering supplies for the lighting, heating, and water supply of the new Science Hall at Wei Hsien.”

We are at length face to face with the last stage in the active connection of Dr. Mateer with the college. February 26, 1907, he wrote to one of the secretaries of the Board of Missions:

I returned three days ago from the meeting of the College Directors at Tsingchow fu. The meeting was prolonged and a very important one. A number of important and embarrassing questions were before us.... You will hear from others, of course, and from the minutes, that Dr. Bergen resigned the presidency of the college, and that in our inability to find a successor I was asked to take the position temporarily, until other arrangements could be made, and Dr. Bergen was asked to remain as a professor, which he agreed to do. This provided for the teaching, and makes it possible for me to take the presidency without doing much teaching, which I could not do under present conditions.

During the period of his service in this capacity the college not only did well in its regular work; it also made some important advances. The total attendance was one hundred and eighty-one, and a class of ten was graduated at commencement. At Tengchow he had always valued the literary societies very highly, and these now received a fresh impetus. Several rooms of the new Science Hall were brought into use; two additional rows of dormitories were built, one for college and personal teachers and workmen, and one for students; not to mention lesser matters.

Nevertheless he found his official position in certain[230] ways very uncomfortable. Some of the reasons of this were casual to the internal administration, and cannot now be appreciated by outsiders, and are not worth airing here. Others were of a more permanent nature, and had to do with the future conduct and character of the institution. The question of English had been for a while hushed to sleep; but it was now awake again, and asserted itself with new vigor. In a letter dated December 19, 1907, he said: “I am strongly in favor of an English School, preferably at Tsinan fu, but I am opposed to English in the college. It would very soon destroy the high grade of scholarship hitherto maintained, and direct the whole output of the college into secular lines.” His fear was that if English were introduced the graduates of the institution would be diverted from the ministry and from the great work of evangelizing the people to commercial pursuits, and that it would become a training school of compradors and clerks. Later the intensity of his opposition to the introduction of English was considerably modified, because of the advantage which he perceived to be enjoyed in the large union meetings, by such of the Chinese as knew this language in addition to their own. He saw, too, that with the change of times a knowledge of English had come to be recognized as an essential in the new learning, as a bond of unity between different parts of China, and as a means of contact with the outside world. Looking at the chief danger as past, he expressly desired that[231] the theologues should be taught English. At any rate he had been contending for a cause that was evidently lost. At this writing the curriculum of the college offers five hours in English as an optional study for every term of the four required years; and also of the fifth year. Dr. Mateer, besides, was not fully in sympathy with a movement that was then making to secure a large gift from the “General Education Fund” for the endowment of the institution. In the letter just quoted he says: “The college should be so administered by its president and faculty as to send some men into the ministry, or it fails of its chief object. I am in favor of stimulating a natural growth, but not such a rapid and abnormal growth as will dechristianize it. I do not believe in the sudden and rapid enlargement of the plant beyond the need at the time. It would rapidly secularize the college and divert it entirely from its proper ideal and work.” These questions were too practical, and touched the vitals of the institution too deeply, to be ignored by earnest friends on either side. Some things as to the situation are so transparent that they can be recognized by any person who looks at it from not too close a point of view. The entire merits of the argument were in no case wholly on one side; and as a consequence it is not surprising that wise and good men differed as they did; and the only decisive test is actual trial of the changes advocated by the younger men. It is also perfectly plain that in this affair we have[232] only another instance of a state of things so often recurring; that is, of a man who has done a great work, putting into it a long life of toil and self-sacrifice, and bringing it at length to a point where he must decrease and it must increase; and where in the very nature of the case it must be turned over to younger hands, to be guided as they see its needs in the light of the dawning day. He can scarcely any longer be the best judge of what ought to be done; but even if he were, the management must be left for good or ill to them. That evidently is the fight in which Dr. Mateer came ultimately to see this matter. He courageously faced the inevitable. In this, as in all other cases, no personal animosity was harbored by him toward anyone who differed from him.

October 27, 1907, he wrote to an associate on the Mandarin Revision Committee: “I have now dissolved myself from the management of the college, and shall have very little to do with it in the future. It has cost me a great deal to do it, but it is best it should be so. I am now free from any cares or responsibility in educational matters.” In a letter to Secretary Brown, dated December 21, 1907, he said: “In view of the circumstances I thought it best to resign at once, and unconditionally, both the presidency and my office as director. I have no ambition to be president, and in fact was only there temporarily until another man should be chosen. I did not wish to be a director when I could not[233] conscientiously carry out the ideas and policy of a majority of the mission. It was no small trial, I assure you, to resign all connection with the college, after spending the major part of my missionary life working for it. It did, in fact, seriously affect my health for several weeks. I cannot stand such strains as I once did.”

One of the striking incidents of his funeral service at Tsingtao was the reading of the statistics of the graduates of the Tengchow College, including the students who came with the college to Wei Hsien. These have since been carefully revised and are as follows: Total receiving diplomas, 205; teachers in government schools, 38; teachers in church schools, 68; pastors, 17; evangelists, 16; literary work, 10; in business, 9; physicians, 7; post-office service, 4; railroad service, 2; Y. M. C. A. service, 2; customs service, 1; business clerks, 2; secretaries, 1; at their homes, 6; deceased, 22. These graduates are scattered among thirteen denominations, and one hundred schools, and in sixteen provinces of China. About two hundred more who were students at Tengchow did not complete the course of studies.

The institution since its removal has continued steadily to go forward. The large endowment that was both sought and feared has not yet been realized, and consequently the effect of such a gift has not been tested by experience; but other proposed changes have been made. A pamphlet published[234] in 1910 reports for the college of arts and sciences an enrollment of three hundred and six students, and in the academy, eighty. The class which graduates numbers seventeen, all of whom are Christians. Down to that year there had been at Wei Hsien among the graduates no candidates for the ministry, but during 1910, under the ministration of a Chinese pastor, a quiet but mighty religious awakening pervaded the institution, and one outcome has been a vast increase in the number of candidates for the ministry or other evangelistic work. The pamphlet already quoted speaks of more than one hundred of the college students who have decided to offer themselves for this work. It is appropriately added that “such a movement as this amongst our students inspires us with almost a feeling of awe.... Our faith had never reached the conception of such a number as the above simultaneously making a decision.” It has recently been decided to bring all the departments of the university to Tsinan fu, the provincial capital.

In the theological college at Tsingchow fu, according to the last report, there were eleven students in the regular theological department and one hundred and twenty-eight in the normal school. In the medical college at Tsinan fu there were thirteen young men. The aggregate for the whole university rises to five hundred and thirty-eight. On the Presbyterian side this all began with those six little boys, in the old Kwan Yin temple, in the autumn[235] of 1864, at Tengchow. To-day it is a university, and is second to no higher institution of learning in China.

It is said that Dr. Mateer never led in prayer, either public or private, that he did not most earnestly ask that the Lord would raise up Chinese Christian men, who as leaders would bring many to Christ. His prayers during the forty-five years of his missionary life are receiving a wonderful answer at Wei Hsien and at Tsingchow fu.

Whenever a group of the early acquaintances of Dr. Mateer talked together about him, one thing certain to be mentioned was his achievements with apparatus and machinery, both with the making and with the using of them. Out in China his reputation for this was so great that it at times came near to being a burden to him. We have already seen that the temporary superintendence of the mission press at Shanghai was thrust upon him, contrary to his own preference, and because, as he expressed it in a letter at that time, the men in control considered him a “Jack-of-all-trades,” able to do anything at which he might be put. If they then did really think of him as no more than a man who with machinery could do a great many things without performing any of them thoroughly well, they did[237] him a great injustice, which their subsequent knowledge amply corrected. As the years went by, and in this sphere of his multifarious activity he rose to larger and more difficult achievements, his fame as to this spread far and wide among both natives and foreigners. At no time, however, did he permit his efficiency in this line to loom up in such a form or in such a degree as to seem even to others to put his distinctively missionary labors into the background. It is a significant fact that in the eulogiums pronounced on him at his death this feature of his character and work is seldom even mentioned. He was—first, last, and all the time—a man whose life and whose abilities were so completely and so manifestly consecrated to the evangelization of the Chinese that when those who knew him best looked back over the finished whole, his remarkable achievements with apparatus and machinery scarcely arrested their attention.

Dr. Mateer himself regarded his efficiency in this sphere as due in some measure to native endowment. He had an inborn taste and ability for that sort of work; and stories have come down concerning certain very early manifestations of this characteristic. It is related that when he was a little boy he was suffering loss through the raids made by the woodpeckers on a cherry tree laden with luscious fruit. He pondered the situation carefully, and then set up a pole, close by, with a nice lodging place for a bird at the top, and armed himself with a mallet down at the foot. The woodpecker would grab a cherry, and immediately[238] fly to the pole in order to eat it; but a sharp blow with the mallet would bring him from his perch to the ground. So the boy saved his cherries. It is also related of him that when a mere boy he had a friendly dispute with his father over the question whether a sucking pig had the homing instinct. He maintained that it would return to its mother under conditions that proved the affirmative; and in order to satisfy himself, he placed a pig in a sack, and took it a long way from its familiar haunts, and turned it loose. It had been agreed that the result was to decide the ownership. To his delight, immediately the pig started on a bee line for home, and never gave up the race until it was back in its old place.

For the development and application of this natural gift he received almost no help from others. Probably if that old workbench in the barn at the “Hermitage” could speak, it might tell something as to oversight and guidance of the boy by his father, in making and repairing traps and tools for use in recreation and in work; but beyond this he had no instruction. In his day at college a chemical or physical laboratory was supposed to be exclusively for the professor to prepare his experiments; the student was expected only to be a spectator in the classroom when the experiments were shown. The man who occupied the chair of natural philosophy at Jefferson when we were there had a gift for supplementing his scanty outfit of apparatus with the products of his own skill and labor, and if the student Mateer had found his way down[239] into the subterranean regions where these were wrought, he and Professor Jones would have rejoiced together in sympathetic collaboration; but no such unheard-of violation of ancient custom occurred. In the academy at Beaver he first turned his hand to making a few pieces of apparatus which he craved as helps in teaching. But it was not until he reached China that this field for his talent opened before him, and continued to enlarge all the rest of his life. In fact, even when he was absent from China, on his furloughs, he did not get away from his work with apparatus and machinery. During one of his earlier furloughs, while he was looking up everything that could be helpful to his Chinese boys, he spent some time in the Baldwin Locomotive Works, by special permission, in studying the construction of locomotives, so that he might be able to make a model of one on his return to China. In connection with this he showed such an acquaintance with the structure of these engines that he could scarcely convince some of the skilled mechanics that he had not been trained to the business. Dr. Corbett wrote concerning him, after his death: “It was my privilege to meet him at the World’s Fair at Chicago in 1893. He had spent nearly a month there examining minutely many things of special interest to him. As my time was limited he kindly became my guide for a while, and gave me the benefit of his observations. We first visited the department of electricity, which he had carefully studied in all its various applications. We[240] next went to Machinery Hall, where he had spent days making drawings, measurements, and so forth, of the most complex machinery. He seemed to understand everything as though this had been the work of his life.” Dr. Hayes says: “Dr. Mateer’s ability to meet exigencies was well shown a few years ago in Wei Hsien, when suddenly the large dynamo failed to produce a current. He unwound the machine until he located the fault, reinsulated the wire and rewound the coil; after which the machine furnished its current as usual.... Electrotyping was hardly in general use in the west until he secured an outfit of tools and taught a class of native artisans. When electric fans came in vogue he purchased a small one as a model and proceeded to make another.”

The time came when Dr. Mateer had a shop equipped to do a great variety of work; and though not on a large scale, yet big enough to meet his needs. Already in 1886 in a letter to his brother William he said: “In order to repair apparatus, and in order to make many simpler articles, I have fitted up quite a complete workshop, entirely at my own expense. I have invested in the shop, in tools and materials quite one thousand dollars. I keep a workman at my own cost, whom I have trained so that he can do most ordinary kinds of work. There are a great many small articles we can make here more cheaply than we can buy them. There are, however, many articles we cannot make, especially those that involve glass or the use of special machinery, or special skill.”[241] That shop continued to grow, and the variety of its output increased. Writing of this, Mrs. Ada Mateer says:

So soon as possible in addition to the room used for carpenter work, a side house was devoted to the purposes of a shop, which grew in completeness as time went on. An upper story was used for storing finished apparatus, for a painting, varnishing, and drying room. The lower story was the shop proper, with well, smithy, a long workroom, private room for chemicals and so forth. Every conceivable amount of space in the shop—above, around, and below—was occupied with materials, on boards hung from above, in cases made of old boxes lining the walls, and on the floor. The shop contained not only materials for things that are to be, but became also a tomb of things that were, but are not, as well as a hospital for things disabled. What old histories were unearthed when, after forty years, this shop had to be moved to Wei Hsien!

Up there it was perpetuated, the main difference consisting in larger and better quarters, with some improved conveniences. His wife continues:

For every machine bought, the market was canvassed by correspondence, and the best selected. Especially was this true with reference to any tools or machinery used in the construction of apparatus,—as machines for turning, blacksmithing, plumbing, screw-cutting, burnishing, electroplating, casting, and so forth. His shop was thoroughly fitted with all appliances for the making of apparatus, or electric or steam outfitting, so that he was ready to do anything,[242] from setting up a windmill or water system, or installing an engine and dynamo, to brazing broken spectacle frames or repairing a bicycle.

So far as it was practicable he turned over the actual mechanical labor to Chinese workmen,—a skilled foreman and apprentices under the foreman’s direction.

Why, though a missionary, did he employ so considerable a part of his time in this way? Especially at the outset of his missionary career stern necessity to meet his own needs and those of his associates drove him to this line of work. Had he been set down in China at some such place as Shanghai, where foreign articles could be purchased, very likely his mechanical gifts would have remained largely dormant. But at Tengchow he helped to make a stove out of odds and ends, because one was indispensable in order to keep warm. For the same sort of reason he extracted teeth and made false sets, cobbled shoes, and acted as master workman of all the building trades in the erection of the “new home.” Sometimes he was thus compelled to do things which seemed strange even to him. When, in 1865, little Katie Mills died, he had to act the part of undertaker. He said:

It fell to me to make the coffin, which I did as well as I could from memory. I could not tell the carpenter, and I had to do the work myself. He did the rough work, and I did the cutting and fitting. I had to go entirely by my eye, and I found it no easy matter to get it in every respect in proportion. We covered it with black velvet outside, and inside with[243] white linen. It looked very well when finished, and pleased Mr. and Mrs. Mills very much. It is a work I never thought of doing.

At one point on the way through Siberia when homeward bound on his last furlough the train was halted by some defect in the working of the mechanism of the locomotive. Dr. Mateer, on account of the delay, got out of his compartment and went to see what was the matter. He saw that the locomotive was a huge Baldwin, with whose construction he had familiarized himself when in the United States on a previous furlough, and he quickly discovered the cause of the trouble. He could speak no Russian, and the men in charge of the engine could speak no English, but he managed to show them the cause of the defective working of the mechanism, and how to remedy it; and soon the train was again speeding on its way.

The time never came during his long residence in China when a necessity did not occasionally force itself on him to utilize his mechanical gifts, and not infrequently on the common utensils of life. In Wei Hsien he often spent hours directing in such repairs as were needed for furnaces and the like.

Few of his later and larger achievements in this field could be fairly regarded as works of necessity, strictly speaking; they rather were meant to be aids in the great enterprise of evangelizing the Chinese Empire. He was thoroughly convinced that one of the most powerful agencies that could be employed for this[244] purpose was the school and the college. He was equally sure that of all the studies that could be introduced into the curricula of these institutions, none could be so effective in opening the way for the gospel as that of the natural sciences, and especially physics, inclusive of modern mechanical appliances of its principles. He believed that if bright young men were educated in that kind of knowledge, and sent out under Christian influences among their own people, if they were also converted to Christianity, the outcome must be the dissipation of the existing blind adherence to the superstitions and ideas of centuries long remote in the past; and that with this must come the opening wide of the door for the entrance of Christianity. That was his forecast; and the present situation in China goes far toward vindicating the wisdom of it. But to teach effectively the natural sciences he must have apparatus. The only way he could secure this was by buying what he could, and by utilizing his own ability to set this up, and to add as much as possible for the outfit yet needed. Such was the prime object not only of what in a more limited sense constituted the apparatus of the school and college, but also of such larger appliances as the plant for heating and lighting the premises. These were far more than conveniences that helped to better work; they were themselves constant exhibitions to the students and to the people at large of the principles of natural science, and of their value in the affairs of actual life.

Dr. Mateer utilized his outfit of apparatus and machinery as a means of reaching others besides the students in his own institution, with the influence of modern science, thus opening a way into their minds for the gospel. As to one of his methods of accomplishing this object Ada gives a graphic account:

At the time when the official examinations were held in Tengchow, a large number of scholars came to town, hoping to secure a degree, which should be the first step toward official preferment. So many of these, having heard the fame of the foreign machine, came to see and to hear, that Dr. Mateer used to give up his time to them during the days they were at leisure. Finally the opportunity to do good in this way proved so great that a place was provided for the purpose, which was also much used at the Chinese New Year, when all the town and countryside give themselves up to recreation. After the “Mandarin Lessons” began to bring in money, he devoted the profits to the building of a large museum, with an entrance on the street. One half was a big audience room, so arranged that it could be darkened down for stereopticon or cinematograph exhibitions. But it usually served as an audience room, where the crowds could sit and listen to preaching, while the detachment that preceded them was shown through the inner room by expert assistants. What a chamber of wonders that inner room proved to them! Here was a man, using a single hand to turn a small crank, grinding corn as fast as a woman or a donkey could do it on the millstones with much more labor. Here in cases were birds stuffed, and on the walls pictures of strange animals. Here was a man turning a large crank that in some mysterious way made a little iron[246] car overhead first send out sparks, and then run all around the room on a circular railroad. They wondered if it would not have been easier for the man to drag the car around on the ground! There was an oil engine at the end of the room, that was a wonder, no mistake; and a “shocking” machine that shocked them indeed; and untold other wonders. When the tour of the room was finished, the crowd was let out by another door, their almond eyes quite round, while a signal given by a steam siren showed it was time for the next group to go in, and “open-open-eyes,” as they call sight-seeing.

Occasionally a mandarin of high order came to witness the marvels. The report of the Shantung Mission for 1909 says that through the agency of the chapel and museum twelve thousand people were brought into touch with the gospel during the year; so the work still continues.

Another good account to which Dr. Mateer turned this peculiar gift was that of starting industries for native Christians and promoting self-help among the needy. Now it was a loom for weaving coarse Chinese linsey or bagging, or a spinning or a knitting machine, that he ordered; again, he inquired for a roller press to be used for drying and pressing cotton cloth after dyeing; and more than once he sent for a lathe for a Chinese blacksmith. In 1896 he interested himself in procuring an outfit for a flouring mill. He said: “The enterprise of starting the mill was conceived by Chinese Christians, and they are going to form a company to raise the money. I do not think that[247] there is a roller mill in China,—certainly not in north China.... We personally will not make a cent out of it; but we are interested to get the Chinese Christians started in an enterprise by which they can make a living, and introduce improvements into their country.”

His apprentices went out in many instances master blacksmiths, machinists, and electricians, and had no difficulty in finding places. A Chinese general temporarily at Tengchow employed one of these men as a blacksmith, and his order was so evidently filled according to western methods that he paid a visit to the wonderful shop of this wonderful master. The very last man for whom he obtained a place was his most skilled electrician and his latest foreman. This man started a shop up at the capital of the province, and for its outfit Dr. Mateer carried on an extensive correspondence and procured large invoices of goods. Because of the provincial university established there under the new educational régime there was imperative need of such an establishment, and the outlook for success was excellent. Unfortunately for the proprietor, however, the Chinese officials were equally alive to the opportunity and were jealous of a rival. So they managed to compel him to sell out, though they broke the fall a little for him by retaining him as foreman. It is said that the thought of this workman’s troubles lay heavy on the heart of Dr. Mateer in his last illness. It was usually for the poor that he interested himself after this practical fashion; yet[248] he did not refuse to lend aid to others in promoting enterprises that would be of general advantage. For a wealthy Chinaman who owned a coal mine that had been flooded with water he went to a great deal of trouble in order to put him in the way of securing a suitable pump. But whether it was for rich or poor that the opportunity came to render such services, he put aside all thought of his own ease or name or profit, and did the best in his power.

He had special satisfaction in the manufacture of electrical machines, though it was no easy matter to cut and bore the large glass wheels without breaking them, and to adjust all parts so that the greatest efficiency was attained. Ada says:

When a machine was perfected, giving an unusually long spark, he always liked to take me over at night to the shop to see it perform. I well remember the last time,—at Wei Hsien. At one end of the shop was the windmill. Here he stopped to show me a way of equalizing the stroke of the windmill pump piston, by hanging on an old kettle of scrap iron. Then he took me into an inner room, where on one end of a long table stood the newly finished machine,—a beauty, no mistake. Having forgotten some necessary key, he took the lantern and went to get it, leaving me in the dark. I noticed sounds, the dripping of water in the well; but what was the ticking I heard? On the return of the lantern I saw the cause,—a number of clock dials all hung on the wall, and all to be run by one clock by means of electricity. These were for the college recitation rooms when they should be finished. Then Calvin made the new machine do its[249] work. Adjusting carefully the mechanism, and then measuring the spark, he exclaimed with boyish glee, “There, isn’t that a beauty!”

Dr. W. A. P. Martin, of Peking, related in the “Chinese Recorder” of December, 1908, this incident as to Dr. Mateer: “It was once my privilege to spend part of a vacation in his hospitable home at Tengchow. I found him at work constructing scientific apparatus with his own hands and wrestling with a mathematical problem which he had met in an American magazine. When I solved the problem, he evinced a lively satisfaction, as if it were the one thing required to cement our friendship.” The problem was to find the diameter of an auger, which, passing through the center of a sphere, will bore away just one half of its bulk. It is easy to see that to a man of that sort his work and the scientific and practical problems constantly arising in connection with the making of apparatus and the adjustment of machinery must have been in themselves a rich source of pleasure, though he never allowed himself to be so fascinated by his shop as to break in on what he conceived to be his higher work. Speaking of his last years, Ada says: “He would go out wearied with the baffling search for a way of expressing clearly in Chinese a thought none too clear in the original Greek, his forehead grooved with the harrows of thought. He would come back from the shop an hour later, with well-begrimed hands, a new spot on his long Chinese gown, a fresher pink in his cheeks, a brighter sparkle in his eyes, and his lips[250] parted with a smile. Then, having washed, he would immediately set himself again to the work of revision.”

He loved also to share this joy, so far as it could be done, with others. At the Synod of China with his apparatus he gave several exhibitions that were greatly appreciated. At Wei Hsien he rendered similar services in the high schools, and at Chefoo in the school for the children of missionaries. The Centennial Fourth of July, being quite an exceptional occasion, he celebrated not with ordinary gunpowder, but by setting off a considerable quantity of detonating chemicals. In the early days at Tengchow a home-made electric fly whisk whirled above the dining table, and a little pneumatic fountain playing in a bell glass rendered the room and the meals additionally pleasant to the family and to the guests. Ada writes:

But the thing that most of us will remember longest is an illustrated lecture on electricity delivered to the college in Wei Hsien, and afterward to the foreigners there. As we sat in a darkened room in the college watching the long sparks of fire, the twisting circles of many-colored light, half illuminating a tall, white-bearded figure in a long black gown, he seemed to us like some old magician, learned in the black arts, now become bright arts, invoking to his aid his attendant spirits. Nor was the enchantment diminished when afterward, more wonderful than a palmister, he showed us by the x-rays the bones of our hands. A few weeks later one of the ladies of the compound gave an evening entertainment in which each one in the station was hit off in some bright way, and we were to guess the name.[251] One number of the programme was this: A black-robed figure with cotton beard appeared, leading a youth whom he seated in a chair. Then the venerable personage proceeds to examine the head of the stripling with a stereoscope covered with black cloth, supposed to be a fluoroscope, while an alarm clock in a tin pail near by supplies the crackling of electricity. He gives a careful examination, shakes his head, and pronounces the verdict in one word, “Empty.” In explanation of the tableau it only needs to be said that between the exhibition and the entertainment Dr. Mateer had given the young men of the station their examination in the language.

To tell this part of the story of Dr. Mateer’s life satisfactorily, I must begin with the first general missionary conference, held at Shanghai in May, 1877. For two years previous he had served on a committee to prepare the way for the meeting, and in this capacity he had rendered much valuable assistance. At that conference he read a paper in which he elaborately discussed the subject of “The Relation of Protestant Missions to Education.” The meeting was regarded as successful, and a second was called, to assemble at Shanghai, in May, 1890. It was at this conference that the movement for a revision of the Bible in Chinese took actual measures toward realization.

For the sake of any readers not well informed as to the Chinese language, a few preliminary statements concerning it may be desirable here. In a very broad and general sense it may be said that as to elements, one tongue prevails throughout China proper; but that there is also much important variation in this[253] general tongue. First of all, it needs lo be noted that the language takes on two principal forms,—the classic, or Wen-li, and the spoken, or Mandarin. The classic has come down through the centuries from the times of Confucius and Mencius, and remains comparatively the same as it is found in the writings of those sages. This is accepted as the model for all writing; and for that reason Chinese students have been required to spend the greater part of their time in memorizing those ancient books, so that they might not only absorb their teaching, but also especially that they might be able to reproduce their style. The classic Chinese is stilted and so condensed that in comparison with it a telegram would seem diffuse; and though many of the characters are the same as those used in writing the spoken language, yet the meaning and often the sound of characters is so different that an illiterate person would not understand it on hearing it read. The spoken language, on the other hand, may be compared with English as to its use. Good English is very much the same throughout the countries where it is the vernacular, and though it takes on local dialects, it remains everywhere intelligible. So, broadly speaking, is it also as to the spoken Chinese in a large part of the empire. From the Yangtse up into Manchuria, though the pronunciations differ very much, the colloquial if put into writing is understood. In other words, with differences of dialect and pronunciation it is the speech of perhaps three hundred millions of people. The[254] regions excepted lie along the coast from Shanghai down, and inland south of the Yangtse, where the distinct tongues are numerous and are largely unintelligible except in their own localities.

It has been the rule in China that a mandarin must not be a native of the province where he holds office; and, of course, it is essential that he should be acquainted with the speech which constitutes the lingua franca. Perhaps for this reason it is called Mandarin. But down to the time when missionary publications rendered it common in print, it was not employed in that mode. All books, business or government documents, the one newspaper of the country, which was the court gazette, and all letters were in the higher or, as it is called, the Wen-li form, the only exception being some novels, and even these were streaked with Wen-li. This, however, ran through gradations,—from the highest, which is so condensed and so bristles with erudite allusions that only a trained scholar can understand it, down to a modification which is so easy that with a slight alteration of particles it is almost the same as the Mandarin.

During the long period of the nineteenth century preceding the meeting of the second general missionary conference, a number of translations of the Scriptures, some of them of the whole, and some of parts, had been made, and had come more or less into use. The men who did this pioneer work deserve to be held in perpetual esteem, especially in view of the difficulties[255] under which they labored. Among the missionaries who sat in that conference there was no disposition to withhold this honor, or to disparage the value of these early translations; but there was so widely prevalent among them and their associates at that time on the field a conviction that no existing version was satisfactory, that they recognized it as a duty to take up the subject, and to initiate steps looking to the production of a better. An informal consultation as to this was held by a few men, a couple of days before the conference assembled; but inasmuch as Dr. Mateer had not been invited, he did not attend. Another consultation was held the following day, and because of his great interest in the subject of a Bible revision, he attended without an invitation. The views expressed clearly indicated that there was a general agreement that a revision was desirable, but it also was made very plain that beyond this there was a wide divergence of opinion. We will allow one of his letters to a representative of the American Bible Society, under date of May 26, 1890, to tell the next step in this great undertaking:

As I walked home from the meeting, and revolved in my mind the difficulty of the situation, the idea of an executive committee, to whom the whole work should be intrusted, came across my mind. When I reached my room I sat down, and in a few minutes and without consultation with anyone, wrote out the plan, which without essential modification was subsequently adopted. It seemed to strike all parties very favorably. On the second day of the conference two[256] large, representative committees were appointed by the conference, one on Mandarin and one on Wen-li. I was a member of both these committees. Each committee had a number of meetings, in which the subject was freely and fully discussed in all its bearings. It was evident that there was a general desire for a version in simple Wen-li, and, the difficulties being less in regard to the work already done, a conclusion was first reached in regard to this version. In Mandarin the difficulties were greater.

An agreement, however, was reached. The version in the higher classic style then gave the most trouble, but a satisfactory basis for this also was agreed upon; and the reports as to all three versions were adopted unanimously by the conference. In the same letter he says: “I worked hard for these results, and felt no small satisfaction in seeing such perfect unanimity in the adoption of the plan proposed. I have never done anything in which I felt more the guiding hand of God than in drawing up and carrying through this plan.”

The selection of translators for each of the projected new versions was handed over respectively to executive committees; and Dr. Mateer was appointed on that having charge of the Mandarin, and made chairman of it. He heard that he was talked of as one of the revisers for that version, but as yet he had not decided what was his duty, if chosen. It will again be best here to take up from one of his letters the thread of the narrative. Under date of December 13, 1890, he writes to Dr. Nevius:

I can truly say that before I went to the conference I never even dreamed of what has come to pass. It never occurred to me, before the conference, that I should take any prominent part in the matter of Bible translation. I felt that education was the only field in which I should come to the front. I was never in my life so providentially led as I was in this matter. I was selected chairman of the Mandarin Executive Committee and have been pushing the getting of translators. The first few months were spent in corresponding and comparing notes as to men. We took a ballot recently, which resulted in the election of five, ... I being the only one who received a unanimous vote. We are now voting for the others, to make up the seven.... My book of “Mandarin Lessons” has no doubt brought me forward, and its preparation has in a measure fitted me for the work. My personal preferences are against the work of translation, and I would fain decline it, but I don’t see how I can in view of the circumstances. I feel my incompetency, especially in Greek and Hebrew, and you may be sure I am very loath to give up the educational and literary work on my hands. Much of it is half finished. But if the Mandarin Bible is to be made, some one must do it; moreover, the men who do it must have the confidence of the missionary body; otherwise it will be a failure. As it is, circumstances have led me to the position, and the strong opinion of the men on the committee, and of others, leads me to feel that I cannot lightly refuse.

In November, 1891, the revisers met at Shanghai. Dr. Mateer, in a letter written in the following January, said:

The scheme for the revision of the Chinese Bible set on foot by the conference is now fairly organized, and approved by the three great Bible societies. The work of pushing the organization has fallen largely on me, and I feel no small sense of relief now that it is successfully accomplished. Contrary to my own desire, I am compelled to lake a share as one of the revisers in Mandarin; not that I do not relish the work, but because it will of necessity interfere with many of my cherished plans. We had a meeting of all the revisers of the three versions, and it was a fairly harmonious and an altogether successful meeting. A great work is before us which I trust we may, in the good providence of God, be enabled to accomplish.

The interval of about a year and a half between the general conference and the organization just mentioned was required because of the difficulty of selecting and securing the translators. These for the Mandarin version, as that body was originally constituted, consisted of Henry Blodgett, George Owen, Chauncey Goodrich, J. R. Hykes, Thomas Bramfitt, J. L. Nevius and C. W. Mateer. During the years in which this work was continued there were in the membership so many changes caused by death, removal and other causes, that Dr. Goodrich and Dr. Mateer alone continued from the beginning until the translation of the New Testament, the part of the Bible first revised, was tentatively completed. Mr. Baller of the China Inland Mission stands next in length of service, having joined the committee in 1900.[259] Dr. Mateer in the work of revision had the assistance of two Chinese Christians whose services were so large and valuable that they deserve more than a passing mention here. In a recent letter Dr. Goodrich pays them the following just tribute:

Dr. Mateer, in the work of rendering the Scriptures into a universal Mandarin colloquial, had two exceptionally fine teachers. The first was Mr. Tsou Li Wen, an ordained pastor, who left his parish to engage in this work. Mr. Tsou was trained by Dr. Mateer in his college, receiving his theological training under Drs. Nevius, Mateer and others. He was a man of beautiful spirit, discriminating mind, and a fine sense of language. He was also a man of indomitable perseverance. After a strenuous day’s work of eight hours or more, he would often toil by himself far into the night, seeking for some phrase or phrases which expressed more exactly or more beautifully the meaning of the original. And before the final review, both he and my own lamented teacher (Chang Hsi Hsin) would bestow the greatest pains, in the hours when they should have been sleeping, in a careful inspection of the work. Thus did Mr. Tsou toil, while separated from his family for long periods of time; his work on Bible revision being as truly a labor of love as that of any member of the committee.

But alas! Mr. Tsou’s life burned out all too soon in his exhausting labors. But how I should like to see his crown, and his shining face!

Happily for the work, Dr. Mateer had another scholar, trained also in his school, Mr. Wang Yuan Teh, a young man of keen, incisive, logical mind, who had read all the best books in the Mandarin[260] colloquial. Mr. Wang was quick to see any fault in the structure of a sentence, and insistent on its being put right. He also worked most faithfully in this translation, refusing offers which came to him of a salary several times the amount he received. I think he was held, partly by Dr. Mateer’s personality, which drew him strongly, and partly by his own love for the work itself. When the chariot of fire came for Dr. Mateer, he left us, much to our regret and loss.

The work of these two men has entered largely into the present translation of the New Testament, and the influence of their work, as of Dr. Mateer’s, abides, and will continue to be felt, till the great work of rendering the Bible into a universal Mandarin is finished.

Dr. Mateer himself, in the preface to his “Mandarin Lessons,” makes acknowledgment of the valuable services rendered in the preparation of that work by Tsou Li Wen, and also by his own wife.

The Mandarin Committee, at the meeting in 1891, after organization, proceeded to divide up the books of the New Testament among themselves for work, and adopted a plan of procedure. Each man was first carefully to revise or translate his own portion; and then to send it around to the others, who were to go over it, and write their suggestions of emendations, each in a column parallel to the proposed text. Next, the original translator was to take these emendations, and with their help was to prepare a text in Mandarin for submission to the entire committee. Broadly speaking, this was the method pursued to the end,[261] though with some modifications compelled or suggested by experience. It was hoped that comparatively rapid progress would be made; but in reality the committee did not come together again until September, 1898; and even then, only the Acts of the Apostles was ready for general revision. For this delay there were various causes, such as the death of Dr. Nevius and the resignation of others, and the absence of Dr. Mateer on furlough home; but the chief cause was that every member was burdened with so much other work that only a fraction of his time could be given to this duty. Dr. Mateer, for example, found himself loaded down with other literary and missionary labors. At the meeting held at Tengchow, in 1898, he was elected chairman of the committee. This was an honor, but it also carried with it peculiar duties which materially added to his burden. The committee could muster only five members for that sitting, but they proceeded with their work, and at the end of two months and a half they finished the book of Acts; and then they separated.

That meeting by actual experience brought out distinctly not only the difficulties of necessity arising from the translation of particular books of the Bible, and indeed of every verse; but also others of a more general character, some of which had previously been more or less clearly seen. Should the new version take as its basis one or more of the translations already in existence; or should it go back straight to the original Greek, and use the existing translations[262] merely as helps? In any case, constant reference to the original was a necessity. For this, which of the published texts should be accepted as the standard? The meeting also disclosed a wide divergence of opinion as to the style of Mandarin that ought to be employed. On that subject in 1900, Dr. Mateer expressed himself fully and strongly, in an article published in the “Chinese Recorder.” He said:

The Mandarin Bible, in order to fulfill its purpose, should be such as can be readily understood by all when heard as read aloud by another. The fundamental distinction between Wen-li and Mandarin is that the former is addressed to the eye, the latter to the ear. In all Protestant churches the reading of the Scriptures has, from the first, constituted an important part of public worship. In order that this reading may serve the purpose intended, the Scripture must be so translated as to be intelligible to the common people. Only thus will they hear it, as they did its Author, “gladly.” It is not enough that those who know “characters” should be able to read it intelligently, but rather that those who do not know “characters,” and who in fact constitute by far the greater part of the Chinese people, should be able to understand it when it is read to them. Here then is the standard to be aimed at,—a version that represents the Chinese language as it is spoken, and addresses itself to the ear rather than to the eye.

He summarized the chief characteristics of the proper style thus: that words should be employed which the people who commonly use Mandarin can understand; that sentences should conform to the[263] model of the spoken language; and, concerning both of these requisites, that such care should be taken as to brevity, the order of words and clauses, the connective particles, and the evident movement of thought as expressed, that the Chinese would recognize in it a people’s book; and yet one that is free from undignified colloquialisms and localisms. All this he held up as an ideal, not likely to be fully realized by any set of translators, but if distinctly aimed at, more sure to be nearly approached. Toward the close of the work on the Mandarin version still another question of a general nature arose. Throughout most of their labors the committee had before them the revised easy Wen-li translation, and for a part of the time they also had the revised classic Wen-li Bible. Ought the three revised Chinese versions to be harmonized, so as to eliminate all variations? That, of course, would be ideal. On this question the report of the Mandarin Committee, which was as to substance prepared by the chairman, took the negative. It said:

The differences are not great, and where they exist, the versions will serve Chinese students as a sort of commentary. There are a multitude of questions in Biblical interpretation which no translation can settle once for all. Moreover, ninety-nine out of a hundred of those who use the Mandarin will never look at any other translation. Two versions in perfect accord seem like a fine product, but it is difficult of realization. An attempt at reconciling the present versions would develop many difficulties. A[264] Mandarin sentence especially is not easy to tamper with. The change of a single word would often dislocate a long sentence, and necessitate retranslation and adjustment to the context.

The Mandarin committee of translators continued their tentative revision of the New Testament until late in 1906, a period of fifteen years, counting from the date of their first meeting for organization and assignment of specific duties. They held eight different sessions, being almost one each year after they were ready with actual work; and none of the sessions were shorter than two and a half months, and one of them stretched out to six months. They assembled at Tengchow, near Peking, at Shanghai, and most frequently at Chefoo. In the final report is the record: “The chairman can say for himself that he has given the equivalent of about seven years all-day labor to this work. He was present at every meeting, and first and last missed but one day’s session.” Each of the meetings took on distinctive incidental associations. The third was held at Shanghai, and from December, 1900, ran over some months into 1901. At that time, on account of the Boxer uprising, missionaries were temporarily there as refugees from all the provinces directly concerned in the version. The sittings were in a small upper room in the Union Church, which came to be called “the Jerusalem Chamber,” and visitors were many. They saw two rows of men, one on each side of a long table, yellow faces being sandwiched alternately with white, as each[265] translator had, as usual in this work, his Chinese assistant at his side. Often the discussions were carried on in Mandarin, so that these assistants might be able to understand and pass their opinion. Incidentally it may be noted that besides his work on the revision, Dr. Mateer often met with the refugee missionaries during this period and greatly gratified them by participating in the discussion of practical problems.

After the Mateers returned from their furlough, the sessions were all held at Chefoo, first in one of the rooms of the China Inland Mission Sanitarium, and later in a large upper room in the Missionary Home, overlooking the bay. Usually at the commencement of their meetings they sat together for three hours in the morning, and reserved the rest of the day for such private study as they wished to make; but as the time wore on they would increase the sittings to as many hours also in the afternoon, and crowd the private review into such odd moments as were left. To anyone, these protracted labors on such a work must have become exceedingly tedious and almost irksome; but to no one was it more so than to Dr. Mateer. He knew Mandarin almost as if it had been his native tongue; but the Mandarin which he knew had often to be modified and expressions adjusted, so that a Scripture written in it would suit other regions of China as well as those with which he was familiar. In writing his “Mandarin Lessons” and in preparing his educational books he had only to ascertain[266] to the best of his ability how to express his ideas in Chinese, and that was the end of the search; but here he had to do his best, and then submit his product to the opinion of others, and often with the result of changes which did not commend themselves to his preference. Yet, on his return home from the sittings he would say: “I ought not to complain. I get my way oftener than any other man does. Only I cannot help thinking of the work I have laid aside unfinished in order to do this.” After each meeting the year’s work was printed, marked “Tentative Edition,” and with a slip inviting criticism was sent to the missionaries in north China and Manchuria. These criticisms were all to be canvassed before the edition could be printed that was to be presented to the Centenary Conference, to which they were to report.

The final meeting for the tentative revision of the New Testament lasted for more than five months, and the work was pushed with even more than the usual vigor. The Centenary Missionary Conference for China was only a year ahead when they began. After the conference the revision was to run the gauntlet of criticisms, and these were to be canvassed; and thus at last the revision was to take its permanent form. Mrs. Mateer gives the following graphic account of one of the closing incidents of that session.

Passage had already been engaged for the Goodrich family on a steamer sailing north. The baggage was all carried down, the family all waited on the upper[267] veranda, with hats on, and the Doctor’s hat was ready for him to seize as soon as he should get out of the meeting. The “rickshaw” men were waiting, ready to run with their loads. But still no sound of approaching feet! Finally, as it got dangerously near the hour of sailing, Mrs. Goodrich said, “I must go and hurry them up.” So she marched boldly down the hall, listened a minute at the door, and came back with her fingers on her lips. “Those dear men are praying,” she whispered; and tears filled our eyes as our hearts silently joined in the prayer. Of course, every morning session was opened with prayer; but this was the consummation of all these years of toil, the offering of the finished work at the altar.

Although the committee completed their revision at that session, so far as this was possible until the conference should meet and approve or disapprove it, there was very considerable work of a tedious nature left to Dr. Mateer to perform. The finishing touches yet to be put upon portions of the version were not a few; but the thing that required of him the most protracted and delicate attention was the punctuation. For this he introduced a new system which seemed to him to be best for the Chinese language, and which can be estimated fairly only by a scholar in that tongue. To him also as chairman came the criticisms which were invited from all quarters, most of which were welcomed, but some of which touched him to the quick. At length, in the spring of 1907, the conference assembled at Shanghai, and the report of the Committee of Revisers was made to that body.[268] He wrote to a friend in the United States concerning it: “We had a grand missionary conference in Shanghai, which, of course, I attended. There was more unanimity and less discussion than in the former conference.” The report received a hearty approval, and the version was started on its course of examination by all concerned, as preparatory to its final completion. It was issued from the press at Shanghai in 1910. It was called a revision, the aim being to offer it, not so much as a rival to the older versions, as an improvement upon them; but in reality it was an almost entirely new translation, though in making it advantage had been taken of the valuable pioneering done by the others. Writing to a friend after the conference had adjourned, Dr. Mateer frankly said:

Please note that we still have opportunity for final revision, in which many defects will be eliminated. There are places not a few with which I myself am dissatisfied, many of which I see can be improved. I refer especially to texts that are excessively literal, and where foreign idioms are used to the detriment of the style. It must also be remembered that many terms and expressions that seem strange and perhaps inexpressive at first will on further use seem good and even admirable. Every new translation must have a little time to win its way. That our version will appeal strongly to the great mass of the Chinese church I have no doubt.

During the long years he was engaged in this great undertaking he learned some valuable lessons concerning the translation of the Scriptures. He came[269] to speak of it as an art, for which special training and experience are needed. In an article which appeared after his death, in the November issue of “The Chinese Recorder” for that year, he gave at length a discussion of “Lessons Learned in Translating the Bible into Mandarin.” He pointed out difficulties that hamper the making of a version in the Mandarin as compared with the Wen-li in either of its forms. To appreciate these, one needs to be a master in those tongues. But he also indicated others that lie in the way of a translation of the Scriptures into any sort of Chinese. Many of the very ideas of the Bible on moral and spiritual subjects had never entered the Chinese mind, and consequently there are no suitable words or phrases to express them. Just as western science has to invent its own terms when it enters China, so also within limits must the translator of the Bible introduce a vocabulary suited for his purpose. He believed that in the China of to-day prejudice had so far begun to yield that this could be effectively and wisely done. In fact, each branch of modern thought that has been grafted on the stem of the Chinese has already brought with it new words, so that hundreds of these have recently been coined and are on the tongues of the leaders. Along with the lack of an adequate vocabulary goes another thing that adds to the difficulty. In the translation of other books the main need is to express the thought, and in doing this considerable freedom is usually tolerated; but accuracy of expression, because of the very nature of the Bible, is[270] of the first importance in a version. Besides, the Chinese Christians seem especially disposed to insist on this quality. The tendency of a translator is apt to be toward adapting the Scripture to what is conceived to be the taste of the Chinese, to write up to the style with which the educated are familiar, or down to the level of the uneducated speech. Another defect is to magnify or to minify peculiarities of expression originating in the region where the Scriptures were written. Dr. Mateer thought that he recognized very distinctly tendencies of this sort in the older versions, though abating in more recent times. His article concluded as follows:

The Bible does not need any doctoring at the hands of translators. The Chinese church is entitled to have the Bible just as it is, in a strictly faithful and accurate translation. This they demand of us who translate it for them. They do not want to know what the writers would have said if they had been Chinese, but what they actually did say. This is the manner in which the Chinese who have learned English are now translating foreign books into their own language, and this is very evidently the spirit of the times. The English Bible, especially the Revised Version, is a monument of careful and accurate translation. Translators into Chinese cannot do better than follow in the same line. I have a number of times heard students when using commentaries, or hearing lectures on various portions of Scripture, express their surprise and dissatisfaction that the Bible had not been more accurately translated. I have known Chinese preachers, when quoting a text[271] which had a marginal reading saying that the original says so and so, to remark with strong disapproval, “If the original says so, why not translate it so, and be done with it?” On one occasion in our committee, when a question was raised about giving a metaphor straight or paraphrasing into a comparison, one of our literary helpers said with vigorous emphasis: “Do you suppose that we Chinese cannot understand and appreciate a metaphor? Our books are full of them, and new ones are welcome.” If we do not give the Chinese the Bible as it is, they will condemn us, and before long will do the work for themselves.

In conclusion, it is worthy of remark that no one man can make a satisfactory translation of the Bible. There are limitations to every man’s knowledge of truth and of language. Every man’s vision is distorted in some of its aspects. This is a lesson we have been learning day by day, and are still learning. If any man wishes to find out his limitations in these respects, let him join a translating committee.

With regard to the difficulties in the way of this revision, Dr. Goodrich thus expresses himself:

No literary work of such peculiar difficulty has been undertaken in China since the first translation of the Scriptures by Morrison. To produce a Bible whose language shall run close to the original, simple enough to be understood by ordinary persons when read aloud in the church or in the home, and yet chaste in diction; this work to be done by a committee chosen from widely distant localities,—from Peking on the northeast, to Kneichow in the southwest,—might well frighten any body of men. For the first years together the work was almost the despair of the committee. Their efforts to make themselves mutually understood[272] and to unite on a rendering were often immensely prolonged and exasperatingly amusing.

But they were trying to do for China what Wyclif did for the English and what Luther did for the Germans,—to make a translation of the Bible into a vernacular form of national speech which would be everywhere intelligible; and they took courage and pressed forward slowly but surely toward their goal. In doing this they not only have accomplished the end immediately sought, but they also have put into the hands of the people at large a model which will largely mold all their coming literature.

The conference at Shanghai in 1907 approved the report on the New Testament and decided to proceed to the revision of the Old Testament, and appointed an executive committee to select the men to do this work. The members chosen were the same five who had served toward the close of the revision of the New Testament, with the exception of a new translator needed because one of the old committee had gone home. Dr. Mateer was especially anxious that they might be saved from the necessity of breaking in and training several inexperienced members. Of course, he had foreseen that he would probably be selected, but when informed that this had been done he reserved his decision until he knew of whom besides himself the committee was to consist. To Dr. Goodrich of the American Board, with whom he had been so intimately associated, he wrote several times, urging him to[273] accept; and in one of these letters he said: “There is a variety of reasons why I am perhaps as loath as you are to do this work. So far as money, reputation, or personal taste goes, I should rather do other work. But then it seems as if duty calls to this. Neither you nor I can ignore the fact that the experience and training of all these years have fitted us in a special manner for this work. We can do it better and faster than new men.” He was again made chairman, and as such he proceeded to distribute the first of the revision work, for which he selected Genesis and certain of the Psalms. He began his personal labors at the opening of the year, and in the summer the committee assembled at Chefoo to consider what had then been accomplished. The Goodrich and the Mateer families went into residence during their projected stay, and took for this purpose a house occupied usually as headquarters for the school for the deaf, Mrs. Goodrich, because of the condition of Mrs. Mateer’s health, having charge of the housekeeping. The meetings were held in a little chapel of the China Inland Mission, in the neighboring valley. It was while so situated that Dr. Mateer was stricken with his fatal illness.

In a letter which he addressed “To the dear ones at home,” on the occasion of his seventieth birthday, he said:

God has also blessed me in enabling me to accomplish several of the leading purposes of my life. From my boyhood I longed for a liberal education. My[274] next great desire was to give at least forty years to work in China. Soon after I came to China I began educational work on a very small scale, but aspired to raise up a college that might be a power for good. I early formed the purpose of becoming an adept in the spoken language, and in aiming at this saw the need of a text-book for learning the language, and set about making it. All these purposes I have been enabled, by the blessing of God, to accomplish. My great work for the last ten years has been to lead in the translation of the Bible into Mandarin. This has been a most trying and laborious task, which is not yet completed. The New Testament is nearly done, but whether the Old Testament will be completed, who can tell? My desire and hope is to complete it. To prepare a mature and approved translation of the Bible for the use of two hundred and eighty millions of people will be for the glory of God in China.

The statement just quoted is general, and admits of application in the case of every faithful foreign missionary; but Dr. Mateer meant it especially as an expression of his own experience. In the story of his life work as already here told we have seen it constantly exemplified. There, however, still remain other instances that deserve permanent record. In speaking of them as “incidents by the way,” and in gathering them into a single chapter, I do not mean to indicate that they are unimportant. Some of them concerned the depths of his life. But his work after he reached China was chiefly along the lines that have been traced in the preceding chapters, and those matters now to be related, however important, were incidents by the way.

Of the trials that overtook him, none were so keenly felt as his bereavements. Only two or three of these can be mentioned here,—such as occurred within the circle of his own relatives out in China. The first[276] was the death of Mrs. Capp, the sister of Mrs. Julia Mateer. This occurred on February 17, 1882, at Tengchow. She went down into the shadows with the tender ministrations of her sister and of Dr. Mateer. In writing to a brother of her deceased husband, he said:

On Sabbath afternoon,—yesterday,—we buried her on the hill west of the city, with other missionary friends who have gone before her. She was greatly beloved by the Chinese, and there were few of the Christians here who did not weep to part with her. Mr. Mills conducted the funeral service in English, and made some excellent remarks, admirably adapted to the occasion. One of our native elders made a very effective address in Chinese. Her work is done, and it is well done. Her memory will not soon die amongst the Chinese in this city and neighborhood. We will miss her, oh, so much,—her help, her counsel, her genial society, her spiritual power! Her school will miss her the most: her place in it cannot be filled. She was ready to die, and strong in faith, yet she longed to live, not that she might enjoy life, but, as she several times said, that she might save some more souls. She repeatedly assured us of her joy that she had come to China, and declared that she had never counted it a sacrifice, but a privilege. I told the Chinese over her coffin to imitate her as she did Christ,—her zeal and earnestness in all duty, and her untiring endeavor and desire to save souls.

Sixteen years later, almost to a day,—February 16, 1898,—Julia finished her earthly work and entered into the heavenly rest. I have already mentioned[277] that sorrowful event in the life of Dr. Mateer, and said something of her character. Her biography is soon to be given to the world in a distinct volume. Under these circumstances it would be superfluous to make any extended record concerning her here. It is due, however, to her husband to quote at least a part of one paragraph from a brief memoir of her written by him shortly after her death. In telling of her varied labors and achievements he said this, which so far as it was known to her in life, must have been an immeasurable satisfaction:

Before the end of her first year in China she look an active part in opening the little school which ultimately grew into the Shantung College. To this school she gave the best energies of her life, and to her in no small degree is due its continued success. She was an accomplished teacher, especially of young boys.... She did far more than teach, during the earlier years of the school; she did fully two thirds of the work involved, giving her time day and night to every detail. She kept the accounts, looked after food and clothing and a hundred nameless things. To the end she was the confidante and adviser of all, in their troubles, trials, and plans, in their marriage alliances, and in their spiritual exercises. The thoughtful care she gave to all her pupils when they were sick endeared her to the hearts of all who were in the college. She studied medicine on her own account, and had no mean skill as a physician. All the sick in the native church, and all the sick in her own neighborhood, heathen and Christian, came to her, and she never refused a call. There is no graduate of the Tengchow College who does not have a place for her[278] in his heart, close by the side of that of his own mother. During her illness there is probably not one of these young men, scattered as they are over all north China, who did not pray earnestly for her, many of them in public as well as in private; and many of them have written her the most anxious and affectionate letters. On her sixtieth birthday, last July, the students of the college and graduates with their most imposing ceremony presented her with a decorated silk gown, and placed a large title, or sign, in gilt letters over the front door of the house, “Character-nourishing aged mother.” It was the proudest day of her life when these young men presented her with this most fitting token of their loving reverence and esteem.

In view of the hatred and prejudice which confronted her and her husband when they arrived in Tengchow nearly thirty-five years before, it must have almost seemed to her like the illusion of a dream.

We have previously seen that Dr. Mateer’s brother John became the superintendent of the mission press at Shanghai in 1872. He continued in that position until 1876, when he returned home. For a good many years he was in business in the United States, and then he returned to China and took charge of the mission press of the American Board at Peking. In April, 1900, Dr. Mateer was called by telegraph to come to that city as quickly as possible, on account of the dangerous illness of his brother; but John died the day before his arrival. In a letter to the surviving brothers and sisters Dr. Mateer, after describing the funeral services, added:

It is evident that his work here in the press was highly appreciated. He was also held in high esteem by the members of the other missions, and was well and favorably known in the American legation. Several of the speakers said that John’s life was a well-rounded and successful one, achieved in the face of great difficulties. From the standpoint of worldly wisdom his life could scarcely be called successful; but from the spiritual, it certainly was. In this regard he was probably superior to any member of the family. His mind was clear to the end and filled with confident hope. As his disease grew more serious he showed no fear, and to the last he faced death without a tremor. May God give unto each of us who remain grace to face the king of terrors with the same triumphant faith. We buried him in the foreign cemetery, just north of the city, in the most beautiful spot in that cemetery, and just by the side of Rev. Mr. Morrison of our mission.

It did not fall to the lot of Dr. Mateer to have any experience of perilous adventure and of hairbreadth escapes such as have come into the lives of missionaries in uncivilized lands, and even in China. Still he by no means escaped serious risks. In his earlier itinerations he was several times threatened with attacks from individuals or crowds, and sometimes he armed himself in order to defend himself from assault. The second year of his residence in Tengchow, because of negotiations going forward for the renting of a house near the south gate, a meeting of as many as a thousand people composing the most influential clan in the city assembled in one of the temples, and demanded[280] of the officials permission to kill the man who controlled the house, and the foreigners; but the excitement passed away without any open outbreak. In the summer of 1867 there was a great scare at Tengchow over the approach of a body of “rebels.” These were in reality robbers, consisting of the dregs left behind at the suppression of the Tai-Ping rebellion, who burned and laid waste large districts of country, and mercilessly slaughtered the people. Their approach to Tengchow had so often been reported that nobody knew what to anticipate; but at length they, sure enough, made their appearance in the neighboring country. The inhabitants crowded into the city by thousands, bringing with them donkeys, cattle, and everything that could be hastily removed, so that not only the houses, but the streets and vacant places were crammed with them, the mission premises not being excepted. Julia found in the situation a fine opportunity to give the gospel to the women; and her husband was equally diligent among the men, though he was unfortunately hampered by the absence of his Chinese assistant. A British war vessel called early in the scare and offered to remove the missionaries to a place of safety; and later the “Wyoming,” a United States naval vessel, anchored out in the bay, where she could bring her guns to play, if necessary, for the protection of American citizens. Happily, after five days of this state of things the rebels again vanished, but not without leaving in their trail sickness and desolation. The[281] missionaries do not seem to have been much alarmed at any time during the excitement, though no one could tell what might happen.

In 1870 there was a cruel massacre of a large number of French Roman Catholic missionaries and of some others at Tientsin, and much valuable mission property was destroyed. The news of this spread rapidly over north China and kindled the animosity of the natives against foreigners to such a degree that the situation in many localities became very dangerous. At Tengchow rumors of plots to wipe out the missionaries there were frequent, and the native Christians and others who were friendly communicated to them information that justified serious apprehension. A meeting of all the members of both the Baptist and the Presbyterian station was called, and then another the next day, and by an almost unanimous vote it was declared that it was the duty of all to take refuge in Chefoo or elsewhere until the danger was substantially ended. Dr. Mateer in these meetings advocated brief delay and further inquiry, but when he found himself in a minority of one, he yielded his judgment to that of all the others. Just as soon as possible a message was sent to Chefoo for a ship to come up and take the families to that place, and a couple of British vessels promptly responded. All valuables that could be quickly packed and easily removed were shipped; and the premises at Tengchow were placed in charge of as trusty Chinese as could be obtained for the purpose, and a promise was given[282] by the chief official of the city that he would see that constables watched the property. Dr. Mateer did not go on the ship, but remained a day along with a Baptist missionary in order to complete the arrangements required for the proper keeping of the houses and goods, and then he followed on horseback down to Chefoo. The prompt appearance of the ships in the harbor and the removal of the missionaries seem to have made a most wholesome impression on the people, and the excitement soon subsided, and a rather general desire prevailed, even among the non-Christian Chinese, that they should return. The American minister at Peking also greatly gratified the refugees and their fellow-laborers from the United States by the to them somewhat novel experience of his taking an earnest practical interest in their welfare. He advised them to return to Tengchow, and solicited the privilege of sending them back on an American warship. After an absence of about a month Dr. Mateer went thither on a preliminary trip, and was pleasantly surprised at the friendly altitude of the people. In due time the other missionaries and their families followed; but at the meeting of the synod which ensued a little later he was compelled, after a brief sojourn at Tengchow, to go down to Shanghai and remain there for a year and a half in charge of the mission press. Just how real was the danger that caused this temporary flight to Chefoo, and how imminent, is a secret that perhaps no man clearly knew, and which certainly the missionaries[283] never ascertained. Writing in his Journal, just after his return, concerning his reluctant acquiescence in the vote of all except himself in favor of going, he says:

Nevertheless acquiescence was one of the hardest trials of my life. My mind was filled that night with a tumult of emotions; and I did not sleep a wink till the morning light dawned. I did not know how much I loved Tengchow, and perhaps I overrated the damage our leaving would do to our own cause here, especially to our schools. I am not sure, however, that I did. The future remains to be seen. God may, and I trust he will, turn it to be a blessing both to us and to the native Christians. Aside from the question of the actual amount of danger at that time I felt a strong aversion to going in any case, unless when my life was in such instant peril that there was no possible doubt.... I am not yet convinced, however, and though I do not wish to make any rash vows, yet I think that I will not fly from Tengchow again unless there is a great deal more imminent danger.

When, in 1894-95, the war between Japan and China raged, Tengchow being a port on the sea, and not far from Japan, was of course likely to be a place directly involved in the hostilities. The missionaries elected to remain at their post, and asked the consular agent of the United States at Chefoo to notify the proper military official of their presence, number, calling, and nationality, and to say that in case of attack they would hoist the American flag over the mission premises, and that if the Chinese found themselves unable[284] to defend the city they would exert their influence to have it surrendered without loss of life. The Japanese did come, and they, as a diversion from the seizure of Wei-hai-wei, bombarded the place on three successive days. As to this, Dr. Mateer says in his autobiographical sketch for his college classmates, “I watched the progress of affairs from the lookout on top of my house, but escaped untouched, though eight shells fell close around the house, and one went over my head so close that the wind from it made me dodge.”

During the Boxer uprising of 1899-1900, though the movement originated in Shantung, the missionaries and native Christians of that province suffered less than in adjacent provinces. The reason for this is that after the murder of Brooks in 1899, the anti-foreign governor, Yu Haien, was at the solicitation of the missionaries and the Foreign Office removed. Unfortunately he was not deposed, but was merely changed to Shansi. This accounts for the terrible carnage there. The new governor of Shantung, the since famous Yuan Shih K’ai, did his best to hold the Boxers in check in his own province, and in the main was successful. The prompt and efficient action of Consul Fowler, of Chefoo, in removing the missionaries from the interior also helped to save life. Still it was bad enough in the western parts even of Shantung. The native Christians in many places were robbed, beaten, and so far as possible compelled by threat of death to disown their faith. The story of[285] the destruction of the property of the mission at Wei Hsien, and the narrow escape of the missionaries, through the courage of one of their number, is about as thrilling as any that is told of that period of widespread burning and carnage. In the eastern side of the province, beyond ominous excitement at such places as Tengchow and Chefoo, there was no serious disturbance. Probably this was due in part to the wholesome respect which the Chinese living not too far from the sea had come to feel for foreign war vessels, and for the troops which they could promptly disembark.

Just before the siege of Peking began Dr. Mateer had made his visit to that city, to bury his brother John. The earlier part of 1900 he remained at Tengchow quietly at his work, and sending his orders just as usual for supplies needed by the college and personally. In July, by order of the American consul, the missionaries were brought down to Chefoo on a gunboat. Dr. Mateer and Mr. Mason Wells, however, lingered behind for a while. It was vacation, and Dr. Mateer occupied his time with the Mandarin version. Among the Chinese a wild rumor gained some currency that he was leading an army of many thousand men to relieve Peking; and the fact that his fiancée was shut up there gave at least piquancy to the report. Later he went on down to Shanghai, and there spent six months on the Revision Committee; and so he did not get back to Tengchow until June, 1901, when the Boxer uprising was at an end.

In a communication which he published in “The Herald and Presbyter” later in 1900, he gave at considerable length his views as to the causes of that dreadful outbreak. These do not differ essentially from the ideas which have come to be generally accepted in the United Stales. The missionary propaganda he frankly acknowledges to have, by the very nature of its message, aroused the malignity of evil men; and this also to have been much aggravated by the habit of Roman Catholics of standing between their converts and the enforcement of Chinese laws; but he denied that this was the main cause. He holds that the outbreak was chiefly due to the traditional hatred of foreigners; to the territorial aggressions of the western nations in China; to the ill treatment of Chinese abroad and in their own ports by foreigners; and last, but by no means least, to the German operations in Shantung, consisting of their revenge for the murder of some German priests, the occupation of Kiao-chow, and the survey and building of a railroad through the province. The high-handed encroachment of Russia in Manchuria and the construction of a railroad through that province, and the guarding of it by Russian troops, added fuel to the flames. Summing up, he says: “The whole movement is anti-foreign,—against all nationalities and occupations, ministers of governments, consuls, merchants, missionaries, teachers, and engineers, railroads, telegraphs, churches, schools, and Christian converts,—everything in short that is in any way[287] connected with the detested foreigner. It is the conservatism of old China rising up and bracing itself for one last desperate struggle to suppress the new China that is supplanting it.”

Another of the trials that touched deeply his heart was the contact into which he was brought with the sufferings of the people through famine. In 1876, 1877, and 1878 there was great scarcity in the general region of Tengchow, and consequently the prices for food rose so high that it was impossible for the poor to obtain the necessaries of life. Dr. Mateer, as also other missionaries, helped them to the extent of his ability, and became the almoner of charitable people who sent money from western lands to buy food for the famishing. But in 1889 he was brought face to face as never before in his life with destitution in China. The inconstancy of the Yellow River was one cause of the terrible disaster. Twice within about a third of the nineteenth century it had changed its bed; and as a consequence, finding its new channel too small to carry off the waters in times of heavy and protracted rain, it had repeatedly flooded vast districts, often to a depth of several feet, carrying destruction to the mud walls of the buildings and desolation to the cultivated ground. Drought also in a portion of northwestern Shantung had prevailed to such an extent as to prevent the growth and maturing of grains and vegetables. At last a climax was reached by these disasters; and it was recognized by missionaries and others as so awful in its character[288] and so vast in its sweep that a Famine Relief Committee for Shantung was organized, and an appeal was made for help from Great Britain and the United States, and from the southern ports of China. At least two hundred thousand dollars came in response, and it was especially in connection with the distribution of this that Dr. Mateer was brought into direct personal contact with the suffering. Districts were assigned to missionaries and others, and a careful canvass with the aid of reliable helpers was made. They ascertained that many tens of thousands of the people had wandered away from their homes, either to seek food or at least to leave to the more feeble and helpless such sustenance as might yet remain. No one ever was able to form a definite idea of the number who had died from starvation, either on their wanderings or at their places of residence. The canvassers found multitudes trying to sustain life by eating the husks of grain, the seeds and roots of grasses and weeds, the bark of trees, and the blades of wheat. Some of those who had been considered rich had provided themselves with poison, so as to take their own lives when they must come to the point where to live would be to see their children perish from starvation. The allowance furnished by the relief fund to an individual was fixed at about a cent a day in all ordinary cases, and it was ascertained that on this allowance at least a hundred thousand lives were saved. On some old, faded Chinese sheets of paper, closely written with his own hand, the record of a part of Dr. Mateer’s[289] experiences in the famine canvass, out in northwestern Shantung, has come down to us. As it is all now a thing of the remote past, there probably would be no good in recording the dreadful details here. It is a story of children reduced to skeletons, eager to lick up every crumb as big as a pinhead that fell from the bit of coarse bread given them; of men and women falling down on their knees and begging for food for their families, and bursting into tears at the prospect of relief; of the sale of wives and daughters to procure something to eat; of unburied corpses, and of graves just filled with those who have perished. He said under date of April 9, 1889: “It is the hardest work I ever did in my life. To look all day long on a continual succession of starving people, and to be beset by their entreaties to enroll more names than you can, is very hard on the nerves. There is no end to the starving people.” Again, May 17, he said: “After seven weeks and two days I am at last about to leave for Tsinan. We have now enrolled about thirty-three thousand, and the work of enrollment in this place is finished.” What as to the religious outcome? The impression made upon multitudes even in excess of those who received aid was most favorable to Christianity. One of the leading Chinese assistants in the work wrote to the people who furnished the aid: “This must be the right religion. If not, why is it that the followers of other religions do not do such things?” Thus they were willing to examine into Christianity, and the more they examined, the more[290] they believed, until they were converted to Christ. As an ultimate outcome, several hundred were received into the churches.

The controversies which he had with some of his fellow-missionaries in China were a serious trial to him. He was not by inclination “a man of war,” but in connection with the prosecution of the missionary work in which he was engaged in common with his brethren, questions of great practical and immediate importance arose, and as to some of these he had strong convictions that were at variance with those of other wise and able men on the field. It was best for the cause that these should be thoroughly discussed, and there was much that could be fairly and earnestly urged upon either side. All that could be rightly demanded was that the “fighting” should be open and honorable, and that it should be conducted in such a manner as not to hinder the missionary work or to descend into personal controversy. Dr. Mateer, as to ability and efficiency, stood in the front rank of those who were giving their lives to the evangelization of China. It was his duty to express his views on these questions, and to do this in such a way that no one could misapprehend them. If any fault could be found with him in this matter, perhaps it would be that he saw his own side so vividly that he was not always able to recognize the entire force of that which was said in favor of what ran counter to it. Those who knew him well and appreciated the greatness and tenderness of his heart waived the sting[291] which sometimes seemed to be in his words; but perhaps some others who were not so well acquainted with him occasionally winced under its pungency. Everyone who was concerned in these discussions, long ago has come to recognize him in these as an earnest, capable man, trying to do his duty as he saw it.

By far the most protracted of these controversies was over the word that ought to be used in Chinese to express the idea of God. Under date of November 4, 1865, he made this entry in his Journal: “This week I had a note from Mr. Mills, saying that a proposition was current at Peking to get out a Union New Testament in Mandarin, and to use in it Tien Chu for God, and Sheng Shen for Holy Spirit, and that all but Mr. ⸺ had signed it. I cannot sign it at all; I am utterly opposed to any such a proceeding. I cannot conscientiously use these words.” That was his first gun in a battle that for him completely ended only with his life. His contributions to the discussion were sufficient to be in substance, as we have already seen, gathered into a separate volume. In 1907 his “Letter Book” shows that he was still remonstrating against a request to the Bible societies to employ for God and for spirit Chinese terms that violated his convictions. His very last recorded utterance on the subject was in a letter dated November 17, 1907. In it he expresses his gratification that in an edition of the New Testament for China, issued by an English Bible society, they were[292] “to use the terms Shen and Sheng Ling for God and Spirit.” He added: “This suits me. These and these only are the right terms, and despite all appearances will ultimately win in the really orthodox and evangelistic church of China.” It is not improbable that the drift of opinion for various reasons as to this was against him; but it was in this faith that he died.

As to his part in the discussion concerning what came to be known as “Methods of Missions,” no more need be said here than that the men who took part in this were alike seeking the best solution of a difficult problem, and never wavered in unbroken fellowship and confidence as comrades in the larger work of giving the gospel to China. It was not until 1905 that Dr. Mateer published his book on this subject, and then only when urged by some of his associates.

In the battle as to English in the college, Dr. Mateer had to yield to the majority who came into control after the removal to Wei Hsien. He was great enough not to allow the new policy to chill his love for the institution, or to stay his hands from such help as, in addition to his occupation with the Mandarin version, it was possible for him to lend either by influence or money, or even by physical toil. In his final relations with the college he proved himself to be still its loyal and generous supporter.

It has often been remarked that one never meets a foreign missionary who has thrown himself or herself[293] unreservedly into the work who is unhappy. They are human, and feel their trials often keenly; but their faces shine with an inward peace, and they rejoice over the one sheep, or the many, whom they have found in the wilderness and won to Christ. When Dr. Mateer advanced in age, and thought of what he had helped to accomplish for the evangelization of China, he must have felt a satisfaction such as seldom possesses a soul. In view of this supreme joy it almost seems out of place here to tell of the “incidents by the way” which ministered to his pleasure. One of these consisted of the signs of appreciation shown him by men or bodies of men whose commendation meant something worth while. We have seen how the missionaries on the field trusted and honored him by calling him to leadership in several most important enterprises looking toward large and permanent results. But others besides missionaries recognized him as worthy of their honors and trust. Hanover College in 1880 conferred on him the doctorate of divinity. In 1888 the University of Wooster, for his “attainments, literary and scientific, philosophical and theological, and for his success in his work as a Christian missionary and teacher,” gave him the doctorate of laws. At the centennial of his alma mater in 1902, Washington and Jefferson College also conferred on him the doctorate of laws, in recognition of his “distinguished ability and service as a scholar and minister of the gospel.” In 1894, the British and Foreign Bible Society by making him an honorary[294] foreign member gave him an exceptional distinction. In August, 1898, his lifelong friend, Rev. Dr. W. A. P. Martin, who had been called to the headship of the new Imperial University planned for Peking, wrote to him, asking whether he would accept the deanship of the school of engineering; but in reply he declined, on the dual ground that he was under obligation to continue in his missionary work and in the translation of the Scriptures. In December of the same year he received from the “superintendent” of the new Imperial University at Nanking an invitation to become the “head master” of that nascent institution. Coming as this did directly from that high Chinese dignitary, it was an extraordinary mark of respect and confidence; but this also he declined, and for the same reasons as in the preceding case. In writing of these offers he said to one of the secretaries of the Board of Missions:

Both these positions offered me a salary much greater than a missionary gets. Though not now doing much active work in teaching in the college, I yet feel that my work and influence here are very important. Having embarked in the work of Bible translation, I cannot turn my back upon it, unless the conditions of the work itself constrain me to do so. Also I am anxious to preach,—especially to work in revival meetings amongst the native churches. I also value highly the opportunity I have to preach to the students of the college.

One of the minor but notable honors that came to Dr. Mateer was the celebration of his seventieth[295] birthday at Wei Hsien. The Chinese have a curious custom as to the birthday of the emperor, and perhaps of other distinguished persons; they celebrate it a year, a month, and a day in advance of the true date. This custom was followed on the occasion of Dr. Mateer’s seventieth birthday. An eyewitness has given the following graphic description of the affair:

“The alumni and students of the college planned the “birthday party”; and a most elaborate affair it was. In the morning a long procession of hired rejoicers, with gay banners and doleful native bands, marched into the compound from the city and were reviewed at the great gate by Dr. Mateer and the college faculty. Wasn’t it a fortunate thing that the doctor-of-laws hood of Dr. Mateer agreed so well with the Chinese idea of crimson as the most appropriate color for any celebration? At the chapel, which was packed to the limit with natives and out-of-town guests, presentation speeches which none but Orientals would ever have sat through, and responses were made, world without end. The most successful native pastor in this part of China, who was once Dr. Mateer’s table boy, spoke first. The highest officials of the country were present in all their grandeur, looking properly haughty and impressive,—though I shall never cease feeling that the typical expression of dignity and authority in China resembles the lime-in-the-mouth look more closely than anything else. If a concrete argument for the existence of the college were necessary, I can think of none better than a look at the alumni. Such splendid, manly fellows they were, with keen, intelligent faces! Some have become wealthy business men, who show their[296] appreciation; and many are native pastors and teachers. A double quartet of college students furnished the music; and it was remarkable how well they sang the complicated part tunes. They have had no regular training, but have kept at it by themselves, and have surprised us all by their progress. But for the music, the real, soul-uplifting music, give me the native band! Imagine several bagpipes and flutes, diminutive drums, and two or three toy trumpets which sound only one note; and then conceive of each player carrying on an independent enterprise, and you may know something about the Chinese native band. It is too rare for words. Large bunches of firecrackers fastened on tripods, and cannon crackers, were used all through the festivities, so that it seemed exactly like the Fourth of July. A Chinese feast was given to all the invited guests, and the rabble from the villages near by encamped on the compound and ate the lunches they had carried about with them all morning in their handkerchiefs. It was a great day for the college, and a great occasion for the village people; but most demoralizing to language study. The gold-embroidered, scarlet banners were so many and so immense that since that one day in the church no place has been found sufficiently large to hang them.”

In the general section of China where he lived he made many journeys. Over that part of Shantung situated to the east of the Yellow River he traveled often, and far and wide. Several times he visited Peking. Once, as we have seen, he went down the Grand Canal, to Nanking, and the lower Yangtse. Frequently he steamed up and down the coast to[297] Shanghai, and once as far south as Ningpo. But those immense and populous provinces situated in the west and south of China he never visited, not because he was not interested in them, or could not afford the expense, but because he could not spare the time. In the spring of 1868 the “Shenandoah,” an American war steamer, came to Tengchow on its way to Korea, where search was to be made for any survivors that might remain from the “General Sherman,” lost there two years before. The “Shenandoah” wanted an interpreter, and by general consent the duty seemed to fall on Dr. Mateer, so that he fell constrained to accept, though the health of his wife and other affairs rendered this very inconvenient. The cruise lasted about six weeks, and carried them to several places on the west coast of Korea, and among these to the river Pyeng Yang, since so familiar to readers of missionary journals, and to those who followed the Japanese troops on their march against the Russians in the recent war. That was then a “forbidden land” to foreigners, and the expedition found it difficult to get into peaceable or forcible communication with officials or other natives, and accomplished almost nothing. In the light of the fuller present knowledge of that politically unhappy but religiously hopeful country the observations of the interpreter or of any of the other persons belonging to the expedition are now of little interest.

Dr. Mateer came back to the United States only three times on furlough during the more than forty-five[298] years that intervened between his sailing for China in 1863 and his death. The first of these absences from China began in May, 1879, and ended about the first of January, 1881. Under the rule of the Board of Missions he was entitled to a furlough home long before that time, but he felt that he could not sooner leave his work. He also held the opinion that there is usually no sufficient reason to justify this privilege to a young missionary so early as is established custom. His wife, on account of health, had preceded him some six months. He came by way of Japan, and brought with him two Mills children, their mother having died. They crossed the Pacific on a slow vessel, but the voyage was delightful, and in about as great a contrast as is possible with his experience on the ship which originally carried him to China. He was made more than comfortable and the captain went out of his way in order to show him courtesies. On arrival in the United States his time was spent in the main as by other home-coming missionaries,—in family reunions, visiting here and there, preaching to churches, addressing ecclesiastical meetings of various sorts, seeking recruits among theological students, and other engagements,—the total of which so completely fill up the time that little is left for real rest and recuperation. To this customary list he added two other items,—a period spent in attending medical lectures at Philadelphia, and a hasty trip across the Atlantic to England and to Paris.

His second furlough extended from July, 1892, until October, 1893. He went and came by the Pacific route, and was comfortable on these voyages. Julia was with him. During that sojourn in the United States, in addition to the occupations usually engrossing the time of a missionary on furlough, he went to Chautauqua and studied Hebrew in order to fit himself better for revision work. He also made at the World’s Fair at Chicago that exhaustive examination of machinery, and especially of electrical appliances, of which Dr. Corbett, in the quotation previously given, has told us. One of the greatest pleasures that came to him on this leave of absence was the privilege of once more seeing his mother, then advanced in years. In the last of his letters to her that have come down to us he mentions that he and Julia are at the writing just going into the harbor at Chefoo, and he concludes by saying: “We are very glad that we are at the end of our journey, and back again in China. This is where our work lies, and this is where we ought to be.” It was on his arrival at Tengchow that his students gave him that royal welcome already described.

On September 25, 1900, he was married to Miss Ada Haven, who had been for many years a missionary of the American Board at Peking, and as such was recognized as an accomplished Chinese scholar and a successful and highly esteemed teacher in the Bridgman School. Her engagement to Dr. Mateer briefly antedated the siege of Peking, and she was one of the[300] company of foreigners of whose fate the western world waited with bated breath to hear during the midsummer of 1900. In her book, “Siege Days,” she has given an inside view of the experiences of herself and of many others, and as such it has not only a passing but also a permanent interest and value as a record of that remarkable episode of madness on the part of the “old” China. After the relief of the city and a little season of recuperation from the strain of the siege, Miss Haven came down to Chefoo, and the marriage took place in the Presbyterian church at Chefoo, Dr. Mateer’s old friend, Dr. Corbett, performing the ceremony. As his wife, Ada rendered him valuable assistance, by taking part in the preparation of the smaller book of “Mandarin Lessons.” She also greatly helped the committee on the Mandarin version of the New Testament by making a Greek and English concordance of their first revision. For eight years they two walked together; and he had from her in his literary labors, as well as in other ways, an inspiration and often a direct help of which the world outside of their home can know very little.

His last furlough extended from June, 1902, to August, 1903. Dr. and Mrs. Mateer came to the United States by way of the Siberian railroad and the Atlantic, so that when he arrived in China on his return he had a second time gone around the world. In a letter written to me in April, 1908, he says, “We went home seven years ago by the Siberian railroad, and it was exceedingly comfortable,—much more so[301] than traveling in an ordinary Pullman car.” Perhaps in the interval that had elapsed the recollection of the discomforts that attended the first stage of that journey had somewhat faded from his memory; or he may have had in mind only the part that lay through Siberia proper and in European Russia. A Chinese naval officer who had often come to his study to talk over various matters had expressed a desire to take him and his wife over to Port Arthur in a gunboat when they started on their homeward route. The officer intended by this only one of those empty compliments which Orientals are accustomed to pay, without any thought that the offer involved would be accepted. Dr. Mateer was himself the soul of truth and honor, and, being such, took what this officer said to him at its face value. So, in this case, he sent word of acceptance of the offer, but an answer came back that “after all, it would be inconvenient to take them just then, and that orders had been left with a Chinese junk to take them.” The junk could not come in to shore and they had to go out in a rowboat. When they went aboard, they found that there was no cabin,—nothing, indeed, at their command but a little hold about breast-high, stowed full of Chinese baggage, some of it consisting of malodorous fish and onions. In order to make room for them, the onions were piled in stacks just above on the deck; but even this change left for human occupation merely about a cube of five feet. The boat was crowded with Chinese passengers, and it poured down rain, from[302] which the Mateers could protect themselves only by hoisting an umbrella over the hatchway which was at the same time their only source of ventilation. It was not until the third day that they reached Port Arthur.

It was characteristic of Dr. Mateer that under these conditions he spent every moment of daylight in putting final touches on the manuscripts of the “Technical Terms” and of the “Chemical Terms,” so that these might be mailed immediately to the printer. They came very near missing the train, and if this had happened they would have been compelled to wait a week for another opportunity. The railroad had but recently been completed at that end, and no regular schedule as to service had yet been established; but with many delays and with various inconveniences, after a week, they reached the point at which they overtook an express train bound for Irkutsk. This was luxury indeed, compared with the beginning of the journey. From Irkutsk onward the commendatory language of Dr. Mateer was justified by the accommodations. The Mateers visited Moscow and St. Petersburg; then came on to Berlin, and thence, successively, to Düsseldorf, Cologne, Paris, and London, the latter place brilliant with preparations for the belated coronation of King Edward, which took place while they were there. From Liverpool they crossed the Atlantic to Halifax, and then entered on their American vacation.

A part of the furlough he spent in efforts to secure endowment for the Shantung College. In the prosecution of this work he visited various churches, and in Pittsburg he remained for six weeks. It was during this furlough that he sat as a commissioner from his presbytery in the General Assembly at Los Angeles. Among other celebrated spots which they included in their itinerary was the Yosemite Valley. But the part of the furlough that probably afforded them both the most unalloyed pleasure was spent in a visit to the region of the “old home.” His wife, in a letter, tells the story thus:

Ever since our marriage it had been the cherished plan of my husband to take me on a wedding journey when we got to America,—a carriage journey, to see all the spots familiar to his childhood. By planning with this in view we were able to spend the anniversary of our wedding in Mechanicsburg, with Calvin’s cousins. One of these made a feast for us. Many were the reminiscences exchanged,—a happy binding of past and present. In a day or two we started on the long-promised journey, in a “one-horse-shay,” a journey of several days, our stops at noon, and again overnight, always being with friends of his childhood. But the friend to which most of all he wished to introduce me was his beloved old Long Mountain; and as I looked first at that, and then at his glowing face, I saw whence, next to his Bible and catechism, he had drawn his sturdy love of truth and freedom. Either on that journey, or on subsequent trips from Mechanicsburg or Harrisburg, we visited all the localities familiar to his childhood,—his birthplace, where the[304] wall that used to seem so high to him now appeared so low to the white-bearded six-footer,—the brook where the clover mill used to stand,—the Silver Spring church, where he was baptized, and its adjoining graveyard, where lie many of his old Scotch-Irish ancestors, under quaint inscriptions.... It rained hard the day we visited the battle field of Gettysburg. This trip we took in company with an old friend of Calvin’s, a veteran of the war. Not less interesting were the surroundings of his second home, the “Hermitage.” Almost more noteworthy than the house was the big “bank-barn,”—the mows for hay, the bins for grain, the floor where he used to ride on horseback around and around over the grain in order to thresh it, the old workbench, and, above, the swallows’ nests. The rush of memory was so strong that the white-haired missionary could not keep back the tears. He showed me the little old schoolhouse, the stream near by, the old flour mill, within an inner room of which he and his boy companions used to meet on winter evenings around a “ten-plate” stove for debate. Another place of great interest was the old haunted churchyard, the fence of which he had mounted to fight his battle with the ghosts, and from which he got down a conqueror, never more to fear the face of man or devil.

But the most sacred of all the spots which they visited was the grave of his mother, in the cemetery at Wooster, Ohio.

From Seattle they sailed to Japan, and thence after a short season of fellowship with the venerable translator of the Old Testament, Bishop Schereschewsky, and with other friends, they came back to Tengchow.

When Dr. Mateer wrote that letter, the new China had not come. Nor has it yet appeared. The utmost that can be said confidently is that there are signs of a spring thaw in the vast sheet of ice that for so many centuries has held that country in fetters. Some great rifts can be seen in the surface and sounds that are indicative of movement can be heard. People who stand on the shore, and some of those who are on the ice, are shouting, “Off at last!” It seems scarcely possible that the apparent thaw shall not continue until the streams are cleared and the land is warmed into new life by the ascending sun. But how long it will be before this is accomplished it is almost useless for the best-informed men to attempt to forecast. When the ice does really go, will it be with a sudden rush that will carry with it great injury to much that is well worth preserving? Or will the change come so quietly and gradually that the ice will sink without a tremor, and the frost[306] will gently melt away into waters that only freshen the soil? Probably the new China is not far away; as sure as progress is the law of civilization and enlightenment in the world, it cannot be postponed much longer. Dr. Mateer lived long enough to recognize the signs of its approach, and while he was glad because of this, he also was deeply anxious.

His direct acquaintance with the old China extended over the long period of forty years,—from his arrival at Tengchow in 1863 to his return from his last furlough, in 1903. During the five years immediately preceding his death he was face to face with the signs indicative of the China that is to be. He was therefore exceptionally qualified to speak intelligently concerning the present situation in that country; for it is not the man who now for the first time finds himself there, amid the demand for railroads, and telegraphs, and up-to-date navy and army, and schools, who is most competent to interpret the movements of the hour. We are more likely to learn the whole truth if we turn to veterans like Sir Robert Hart and Dr. W. A. P. Martin and Dr. Mateer, who by almost lifelong experience know the real mind and heart of China; which surely, notwithstanding the occurrences of to-day, have not been completely changed. On the one hand, there can be no doubt of the love which Dr. Mateer had for the people of China. To promote their welfare in this world as well as in the next he gave himself to the uttermost all his long time of residence among them, and when death confronted[307] him at last, his only reluctance to obey that call of his Master was because he would be unable to complete what he regarded as perhaps his greatest service for them. As we have already seen, in his explanation of the causes of the Boxer outbreak, notwithstanding his heartbreak and indignation for the horrors and outrages perpetrated, he lays bare the secret of it, as consisting in part of the wrongs done by foreign nations and persons to China and the Chinese. There were hundreds and perhaps thousands in Shantung who revered him as a father, and confided in him as they did in almost no other human being.

I mention this side of his attitude because there is another that must be brought out here so clearly that no failure to see it is possible. He never allowed himself to be blinded as to radical faults of the most serious nature in the Chinese. It was about the same time as his entrance on his missionary work that Americans were set agog by the “Burlingame Mission,” and indulged in very extravagant notions of the civilization of old China and very rosy anticipations of the future. Even missionaries caught the fever of the hour, and for home publication wrote articles that seconded this view. This was so completely foreign to the reality, as Dr. Mateer saw it, that he responded with an elaborate article in which he calmly punctured these current notions. It was the fashion then to regard the Chinese as leading the world in past ages, but in his opinion in none of their boasted achievements do they deserve such[308] credit. Largely they have been imitators; and in the realm of their own inventions and discoveries and organizations they have seldom shown themselves capable of making the applications that ought to have been so patent to them that they could not miss them. Perhaps—writing as he did in reply to overdrawn appreciations on the other side—he may have fallen into the opposite mistake, to some degree. Perhaps also in later years he would not have gone quite so far in the direction he then took; but he never wavered in his opinion that in the lapse of ages during which the Chinese had lived so exclusively within themselves, characteristics that are racial have been developed, some of which must be overcome, and others of which must be immensely transformed, before China can take her place among the advanced nations of the world. Also, ignorance, prejudice and superstition stand in the way, and cannot suddenly be dispelled. He continued to believe that, notwithstanding the present rush to introduce western appliances, the hatred of the foreigner, except among a minority, remains in the heart of officials and people. He believed too that, because of their faithlessness to obligations which they had assumed toward other governments, the apparent aggressions of foreign nations were not always and altogether without a measure of justification. Chinese law he considered to be still so much a mere whim of officials, often corrupt, that the time has not yet come for an American citizen, whether missionary or merchant or[309] mechanic, to be left safely to the uncertainties of a native court.

Dr. Mateer was one of the leading “makers of the new China.” It is because of his “Mandarin Lessons” that it is now, in comparison with the olden times, so easy to acquire the language; thus not only the missionary but also the agents of modern civilization are helped to gain speedy access to the people. He was the first to plant a college in the great province of Shantung, the birthplace of Confucius and Mencius, and still the center to which the race turns as that from which has emanated their most dominant cult. He took the lead, even of all the missionary colleges, in the place which he assigned to physical science. With his own money he built a museum which he described as “a kind of polytechnic, for exhibiting foreign sciences and machinery to Chinese students and visitors.” There they could see the appliances of steam and of electricity at work, including a model railroad, and the telephone and telegraph. When the governor of the province organized his university at the capital, it was the man whom Dr. Mateer had made his successor in the college at Tengchow who was at first placed at its head, and five of the graduates were chosen to fill chairs in the new institution. He prepared text-books in mathematics, for which there is an enormous demand in the schools which are supplanting those of the olden time. To him more than to any other individual is due the translation of the New Testament[310] into a form of the language which is just as intelligible to the man who can read but little, as to the educated; and which cannot be widely circulated without starting upward tendencies more mighty than those of railroads and western machinery. It would be preposterous to claim for any one person that he has been the maker of the new China; but there are not very many who, as to the mighty transformation apparently not far distant, rank so high up as Dr. Mateer.

Thus far in holding him up as one of these leaders I have not mentioned his influence as an effective missionary in the sphere usually occupied by the representatives of the gospel; and for the reason that, as to this, he is a sharer with a multitude of others. At present there must be about four thousand men and women—ordained ministers, and lay men and women—in that line of Christian service in China, and there are about two hundred thousand Chinese Christians. These, though scattered far and wide among the hundreds of millions of the population, are sufficient to be powerfully felt on the side of genuine progress. Though in rapidly lessening numbers, their presence stretches back to the coming of Robert Morrison, a hundred years ago. Dr. Mateer’s own judgment as to the relation of the missionary work to the present situation is well worth attention. In an article written by request, about nine months before his death, he said:

The nation is in a state of transition which, when compared with her past and her traditions, is nothing[311] short of marvelous. Who would have predicted thirty-five years ago that such a state of things as the present would so soon prevail? God has used a variety of powerful forces to awaken China from her long sleep, not the least of which have been the presence and influence of the missionary. Aside from his main business, which is the conversion of individuals and the upbuilding of churches, he has had a powerful influence in a number of important matters. First, his residence in all parts of inland China has done far more than is generally known to remove prejudice and to familiarize the people with foreign ideas and things. Second, he has been a main factor in starting the anti-foot-binding movement that is now sweeping over the land. Third, he has been the chief mover in the remarkable anti-opium reformation that is now enlisting the utmost effort of the Chinese government. Lastly, in the intellectual awakening, and in starting the wonderful educational propaganda now being pushed forward by the government, he has been a potent factor. Missionaries have made the text-books, and the graduates of their schools have set the pace for this remarkable movement; and this has been done notwithstanding the intense prejudice that exists against Christianity and its professors.

Of the fact that he was face to face with a state of things that promised tremendous changes he was fully conscious. No man could have been more alive to his environment during these last years of his life. May 2, 1905, he wrote to a generous friend in the United States: “The state of things in China to-day presents a great contrast with what it was when I arrived here forty-one and a half years ago. Then[312] everything was dead and stagnant; now all is life and motion. It is just fairly beginning, it is true, but there is the promise of great things in the near future.” September 1, 1907, in another letter to a friend, he says: “This great and massive people, so long below the horizon of the western world,—a misty, unknown land,—is looming large in the east, and the eyes of the west are on it. China is awakening from the sleep of ages. Her senses are still dull, benumbed by the traditional customs and conservative follies of the past, but her eyes are opening more and more, day by day. It is true she still wants to sleep on, but she cannot. The clamor of the world’s progress dins in her ears. Giant hands are shaking her. Specters fill her imagination and groundless fears make her troubled. She essays to rise, but has no strength. She is growing frantic at the realization of her own weakness and incompetence.”

Facing the new China he, while gladdened on the whole by the outlook, yet saw grave dangers in the way. Some of these are due, in his estimation, to characteristics that have rooted themselves very deeply in the spirit of the people at large. In his article on “Education in China” he said:

It is a peculiarity of the Chinese character that they are very hard to convince of the utility of a new thing, and must always be doubly sure before they decide to act; but as soon as the decision is made, they at once grow recklessly impatient for the consummation. The old educational methods and ideals are now[313] abolished and the government is rushing headlong into new and hitherto untried measures. They issue commands to their subordinates without providing the means of carrying them out. The result is a chaos of more or less futile effort, attended by burdensome taxes and illegal exactions that produce disaffection and rebellion. The lack of competent teachers handicaps the whole movement. To the eye of a western educator most of their primary and secondary schools are little short of a farce. Mission schools have trained a large number of competent teachers, but in most cases the prejudice against Christianity is so strong that heathen schools will not use them. This prejudice is much stronger in the secondary schools than it is in the provincial colleges and universities. The high officials generally take more liberal views, and they are free from the social ostracism that prevents a small official or a private gentleman from employing a Christian teacher.

On account of the characteristics just described, while he rejoiced in the immense progress which Christianity was making both in the conversion of increasing thousands and also in its indirect influence over multitudes more, he had anxieties as to the near future of the church in that land. Writing to one of the secretaries of the American Bible Society, in January, 1906, he said: “If I understand the signs of the time in China, it will not be many years—I put it at ten to fifteen—until the Chinese church will declare her independence of the missionaries, pay her own expenses, and make her own creed.... What this creed will be, will depend very much on[314] the kind and number of preachers we train in the meantime.” The speeches made at the Chinese Students’ Alliance, held at Hartford, August 24, 1910, both by the Chinese and by Americans, indicate a very strong tendency in this direction.

In view of the entire situation, national and religious, he iterated and reiterated that the most imperative duty of missionaries in China at present is the training of native preachers and teachers on a scale and in a manner that will fit them to meet the emergency, and to take advantage of the opportunity for the evangelization of the land and the starting of the church that soon must be, on a voyage that will not, through lack of chart and compass and proper guidance, wreck itself on the way. Here are some of his deliberate utterances within the last three years of his life:

Allow me to say that at the present time in China I regard schools and the training of teachers and preachers as the chief thing,—much more important than the founding of new stations, with expensive buildings, in order to cover new territory. This is not a passing thought, but is said advisedly. The time for training these teachers and preachers is limited; before many years the native church will declare her independence, when all will depend on the intelligence and soundness of her leaders.

Again taking a view that includes the church, but that is so broad as to sweep over the entire national situation, he said:

“China is fascinated by the power, skill, and knowledge of the west. She covets these things, and clamors impatiently for them, but they do not come at her call. She has caught up the idea that education will solve the problem and speedily lift her into the family of nations. She issues edicts to annul the old and inaugurate the new. She commands the opening of schools in every county, not realizing that without teachers, or methods, or money efficient schools are impossible. True to her character, she is deceiving herself with a sham; a mere pretense of knowledge. The old is passing faster than the new is coming, and there are ominous signs of danger ahead. There are already a good many competent Christian teachers in China, and very few others; but Chinese conservatism hates and fears Christianity, and will not employ Christian teachers if it can possibly be avoided. China has still one great and fundamental lesson to learn, namely: that Christianity is not her enemy, but her friend; that faithful and honest men are not made by simply teaching them geometry and chemistry. She will presently learn, however, that Christianity holds the only patent there is for the construction of high moral character. She resents the idea now, but sooner or later she will be compelled to admit it. In the meantime she needs men to teach her, and to show her the way. Never perhaps in the world’s history was the saying of Christ more conspicuously exemplified: “The harvest truly is plenteous, but the laborers are few.”

Ever since he set foot on the soil of that country he had kept on pleading for reinforcements in his work,—now a physician, then a teacher, again a man capable of overseeing mechanical operations, and always more[316] ordained missionaries. He entertained very common-sense notions as to the sort of reinforcements that are desirable. He says in an old letter directed to theological students in the seminary where he was trained: “I might add more especially that missionaries should not be men of one idea, unless perchance that idea be a zeal for saving souls. The men needed are those who have well-balanced, practical minds.... The man of vivacious temperament, pleasing address, ready wit, and ready utterance, other things being equal, will make the best missionary.” The language he did not regard as at all beyond the acquisition of any person with fair ability and faithful application, though he recognized more than a moderate measure of these as essential to the writing of books. As the new China loomed up before him, his cry for help became, if possible, more earnest; it came from the very depths of his soul, and with an intensity which words could not adequately express.

Before proceeding to relate the story of his death, can I do better than to give the last of these appeals of which we have the records? The letter from which I quote is dated Wei Hsien, September 1, 1907, just a year before his Master called him home. He said:

Tell the young men of America for me, that China now presents to the church the greatest opportunity of the ages. God has opened the door,—opened it wide. Three hundred and fifty millions of people are ready to hear the gospel message. This door has not been opened without great strife and effort. In[317] the face of steady and persistent opposition, and through much suffering and bloodshed, a large and lasting impression has been already made. The dark and discouraging days are over and the future is bright with promise. As I look back over the first twenty-five years of my missionary life, it seems like a troubled dream. The last fifteen years have wrought wonders in China. Old customs and prejudices are giving way. The bright dawn of better things is upon us. The most conservative and immovable people in the world, persistently wedded to the old ways, are getting used to new things, and are ready to accept whatever promises profit and prosperity. All ears are open, and the preaching of the gospel is nowhere opposed or resisted. I often wish I were young again, just ready to start in on the bright opening campaign. In a large sense the future of the church and of the world lies wrapped up in this great people. Why in the providence of God the gospel of salvation has not long ere this reached this oldest and greatest nation is an unexplained mystery. These unconverted millions of the Mongolian race will presently come into their inheritance of truth and grace, and then who shall say what they will become, and do? Their fecundity, their physical stamina, their patient persistence and intellectual vigor, are factors that will count in the world’s future history.... As I look at the situation in the light of the past, and forecasting the probabilities of the future, a more inviting field for the exercise of consecrated talent has rarely, if ever, presented itself in the history of civilization. Very few people in the church in the west understand and appreciate the present condition of things in China. The political forces and[318] problems are better understood than the moral and religious. It is still true that “the children of the world are wiser in their generation than the children of light.” The faith of the long, old centuries is passing rapidly away, but what shall the new faith be? This is the great Christian question of the hour. The young men of China are mad to learn English, because there is money in it. With English come books and newspapers, sowing the seeds of agnosticism, and skepticism, and rationalism, and so forth. The cry is, Who will champion the truth? Who will administer the antidote? Who will uphold the cross? Who will testify for Christ? The call is urgent. Satan is in the field. The opportunity is passing. The time is strategic. The changes of many years are now crowded into one. Young men, it is time to be up and doing! The march of events will not wait on your tardiness. Who will hear the Master’s trumpet call?

In the chapter on the Mandarin revision we left the committee on the Old Testament, in the summer of 1908, at work on Genesis and the Psalms, down at Chefoo, with the Goodrich and the Mateer family keeping house together. Dr. Goodrich had been the dean of the Union Theological Seminary at Peking, and so was thoroughly versed in the educational phase of missions, still occupying so large a place in the heart and mind of Dr. Mateer. These two men also had served together on the revision of the New Testament, from the beginning to the end. They were in many features of their character very different from each other, and yet in their common labors and in their convictions they were in thorough harmony. Mrs. Goodrich and Mrs. Mateer had come out on the same steamer in 1879, to join the forces of the American Board, as unmarried missionaries; and the subsequent years had served to cement their friendship. The house in which they resided at[320] Chefoo during that summer looked out on a charming scene: the “island,” the bay, and the passage, with craft of all kinds, Chinese junks and sampans, and steamers, small torpedo boats, and big battleships of every nation, either riding at anchor or coming up into the harbor. From the back windows the eye rested on a jagged range of hills, crowned at the top by a curious wall, so like the views of the Great Wall shown in pictures that ignorant sailors imagined it to be that famous structure. One can easily understand that under such circumstances the two families greatly enjoyed the earlier part of the session of the committee. Dr. Goodrich, in the following quotation from the article which he published in the January issue of “The Chinese Recorder,” in memory of Dr. Mateer, had in mind his entire acquaintance with him, extending over thirty-five years, but it is tinged especially with the recollection of the preceding summer. He says:

Much of the time we have been together in the protracted daily sessions of the committee, as well as in the long evening walks, when we talked on everything between the zenith and the nadir; for then his thoughts were “ready to fly East as West, whichever way besought them.” If he were not widely read, he had thought widely and deeply, being at once conservative, progressive, and original. He had strong opinions, and was at times severe and stern in maintaining them. But he loved those of a contrary opinion with a true and deep affection. From first to last he was a royal friend. Dr. Mateer thought[321] naturally in terms of logic and mathematics, but not without a side in his nature for poetry and sentiment.

Dr. Mateer’s character, especially during the later years, was constantly mellowing, and the past summer, which our two families spent together in our own “hired house” at Chefoo, must ever be remembered as one of the happiest periods of our lives, without a break or jar to mar its enjoyment. Was it a sort of unconscious preparation for the sweeter joys and more perfect fellowship in the dear upper home?

Dr. Mateer worked on with his usual untiring faithfulness, during the last summer, though not quite well at times. How he lived in the Psalms, upon which he bestowed loving labor! Sometimes he would look out from his little study to the room which held all too closely his beloved wife, who has followed the Bible revision with an interest scarcely less intense than his own, and consult with her on some difficult phrase, or tell her of some beautiful figure he had succeeded in translating.

In the early morning we took a dip in the sea—he was a good swimmer—and after he had “talked with Him,” at six o’clock he was ready for his teacher. In the evening his walks were less regular and shorter than in other years.

In explanation of one sentence of the preceding it needs to be stated that by an accident Mrs. Mateer was then so disabled that she kept her room.

During the summer he suffered from a chronic tendency to dysenteric diarrhea, yet it was not until well toward the close of the session of the Committee that he remained in bed for the entire day. At first he worked on there, upon the translation of the[322] Psalms, which he was especially anxious to give to the people in such language that they could readily catch it with the ear, and that the Psalms might be to the Chinese church the rich heritage they are to the English-speaking race. At length it became evident that his case was fast becoming so critical that if medical aid under the most favorable conditions could save his life, the very best that could be had must be secured at once. So it was decided that he ought to go on a steamer down to Tsingtao in the German concession. It would require twenty-four hours to make the trip; but when asked whether he was able to endure the journey, he replied: “I must. I shall die if I remain here.”

The necessity for the change was not due to any lack of medical care or friendly ministrations at Chefoo; it was made in order to secure the superior advantages which a good hospital affords. Fortunately the voyage was quiet. His wife went with him; and Dr. and Mrs. Goodrich also accompanied them. It was Tuesday night when they reached Tsingtao, and friends were at the landing; and, supported in loving arms, he was carried at once in a carriage to the Faber Hospital, where Dr. Wunsch, a skilled physician, exhausted his efforts to save him. Dr. Hayes was already there, and at Dr. Mateer’s request spent each day in the hospital.

Friday of that week was the anniversary of their marriage, but it was impracticable for his wife to be brought to his bedside. Saturday it became evident[323] that the end was not far away, and she was permitted to see him; and he seemed so comforted by her presence, though he was too weak to talk much, that they allowed her to stay. In response to a telegram, his brother Robert and Madge, his wife, came at once. Saturday afternoon his mind wandered, and seemed to run on the affairs of the college. Sunday morning he asked Robert to pray with him; and in connection with this one of the great passions that had long possessed him manifested itself. As on the journey down on the boat he lay exhausted, he had said to Dr. Goodrich: “They must do their best to cure me at the hospital, so that I can finish the Psalms. That is all I have to live for now”—meaning, of course, by this, only the work to which he had given himself. Now, when his brother in his prayer asked that the sufferer at whose bedside he knelt might be given an abundant entrance into the heavenly rest, Dr. Mateer cried out: “Raise your faith a notch higher, Robert. Pray that I may be spared to finish the translation of the Psalms.” Then he asked that Dr. Hayes be called in, and he requested him to pray for this; and when this was done he added, “O Lord, may this prayer be answered!”

On Sabbath when some of his “boys,” alumni of the Shantung College, who were living in the town came to see him, he was so weak that he could only say to them, “Good-by.”

All those last days he took great comfort in prayer. As he gradually went down into the shadow of death,[324] his faith continued firm and bright. To an inquiry by his wife as to his trust in Christ, he replied: “Yes, I have nothing to fear.” Some time before the end he said to his brother Robert, “I have laid up all in my Father’s keeping.” The very last words which he was heard distinctly to articulate were indicative of a passion that possessed his soul even far more strongly than his desire to complete his work on the Scriptures. Those who knew him most intimately recognized in him a man of extraordinary reverence for God,—for him whom, from his childhood’s memorizing of the catechism on to the end, he believed to be infinite, eternal, and unchangeable in his being, wisdom, power, holiness, justice, goodness, and truth. He was one of those who in the public services of a house of worship always stood in prayer, though about him all might be sitting in their seats. He thought no other posture except kneeling or standing appropriate in this act of social worship. His whole conception of religion, theoretical and practical, was saturated with a holy fear of God. To him God was his heavenly Father, who has manifested himself above all else in the person and work of Jesus Christ, and unto whom he constantly turned with holy boldness; but whenever he came consciously into the divine presence he was devoutly reverent. It was in keeping with his whole religious life, therefore, that his last audible words, were “Holy! Holy! True and Mighty!” Then—not long afterward—he fell asleep. He died at 10:25 in the morning of September 28, 1908.

Among his papers a little book was found which when it was opened proved to be a collection of private prayers recorded in 1863, the year in which he went to China. The last of these prayers is the following:

Permit not the great adversary to harass my soul, in the last struggle, but make me a conqueror, and more than a conqueror in this fearful conflict. I humbly ask that my reason may be continued to the last, and if it be Thy will, that I may be so comforted and supported that I may leave testimony in favor of the reality of religion, and thy faithfulness in fulfilling thy gracious promises, and that others of thy servants who may follow after, may be encouraged by my example to commit themselves boldly to the guidance and keeping of the Shepherd of Israel. And when my spirit leaves this clay tenement, Lord Jesus receive it. Send some of the blessed angels to conduct my inexperienced soul to the mansion which thy love has prepared. And oh, let me be so situated, though in the lowest rank, that I may behold thy glory!

This prayer, which in his young manhood he had recorded in that little book, was fulfilled so far as its petitions concerned his end upon earth; and who doubts that equally fulfilled were also those petitions which looked forward to his entrance upon the eternal life?

At Tsingtao a funeral service was held in the little Chinese Presbyterian chapel. Among those present were Rev. Dr. Bergen and Rev. W. P. Chalfant, from the Shantung Presbyterian Mission, then holding a[326] meeting at Wei Hsien, representatives from the Basel and Berlin Protestant Missions, and a large number of Chinese. After the casket was placed in the church, former students of the Shantung College came in with long wreaths of immortelles, and so festooned these about the coffin that they could remain on the journey yet to be taken. Addresses were delivered in both English and Chinese, and were full of appreciation for the missionary just gone up higher. The Chinese speakers were some of his own “boys,” who then testified to their appreciation of their “old master,” as they were accustomed to call him. After the service the casket was taken to the same steamer on which he had been brought down, and thus was removed to Chefoo, in care of his brother Robert and Mr. Mason Wells. That evening the casket was escorted by a number of Chinese Christian young men to the rooms of the Naval Young Men’s Christian Association; and the next morning to Nevius Hall, on Temple Hill, where it remained until the time of burial, covered with flowers provided by loving hands.

During this delay the missionaries up at Tengchow had, in response to a telegram, exhumed the remains of Julia, and caused them to be transferred to Chefoo, where they were placed in the vault prepared in the cemetery. Her monument, however, was left standing in the original burial place, and the name of Dr. Mateer has also been inscribed on it.

The funeral service was at 2.45 P.M., on Sabbath; and the large, new church on Temple Hill was filled[327] to overflowing. The conduct of this service was in the hands of the Chinese, Pastor Wang of the Temple Hill church presiding, and Pastor Lwan of the Tengchow church assisting. In a sermon based on Revelation 14:13, Pastor Wang spoke of Dr. Mateer’s long and active life, of his power as a preacher who addressed himself straight to the hearts of the people, and of the enduring character of the work he had accomplished. Rev. Lwan followed in an address in which he dwelt upon the large number of people who would mourn the death of Dr. Mateer, and the many different places where memorial services would be held; on his adaptability to all classes of men in order to win them to Christ, and on his unfailing assurance that the gospel would finally triumph in China.

The English service followed immediately afterward in the cemetery; but on account of the large number of foreign missionaries who had come, and the limited space, announcement had to be made before leaving the church that of the many Chinese who were present, only those who had been Dr. Mateer’s students could be admitted. One of the great regrets incident to the burial was that Dr. Corbett, who had come out to China with him on that long first voyage, and who had been his close associate on the field in so much of the work, and who cherished for him the warmest regard, could not be present. He was away in a country field when death came to Dr. Mateer, and the news did not reach him[328] in time for him to return to the funeral. In his absence Rev. Dr. W. O. Elterich, of Chefoo, conducted the service. After he had spoken, Rev. J. P. Irwin, of Tengchow,—who had been associated with Dr. Mateer in the same station, and who as a consequence knew him intimately,—bore his testimony especially to the unceasing activity of the life of him whose body was about to be lowered into the grave, and the impossibility that his work should have been finished even if he had lived to be a hundred years old; to the warm heart hidden beneath an exterior that did not always reveal it; and to the purpose now fulfilled, but formed nearly half a century before by him and by her whose remains now rest at his side, to spend their whole lives in giving the gospel to China, and to be buried in its soil.

Their graves are in a very beautiful spot, directly in front of the upper walk leading in from the gate, and in close proximity to those of Dr. Nevius and of others of their missionary friends and associates.

The tributes paid to his character and work were so numerous, both out in China and in the United States and in other Christian lands, that all that is practicable here is to make some selections that may serve as representatives. That of Dr. Corbett deserves the place of precedence. Their strong attachment was mutual. In an article filling several columns of “The Presbyterian Banner,” Dr. Corbett paid his tribute to his deceased friend. Much of this is of necessity a condensed rehearsal of his life and[329] of the leading characteristics therein revealed. He concludes by saying:

Personally I shall ever esteem it one of the greatest blessings of my life that it has been my privilege to have enjoyed the friendship, and of being a colaborer with this great man for nearly fifty years. More than forty years ago it was my privilege to spend with him weeks and months on long itinerating journeys, preaching daily to hundreds who had never heard the gospel, and at no place finding Christians to cheer our hearts. Often after a long day of exhaustion, preaching in the open air at great markets and on crowded streets, in the evening we would kneel together at the inn and earnestly pray for God’s richest blessing upon our efforts to bring men to a saving knowledge of the truth. Often the thought came into our mind, Can these dry bones live? Shall we live to see Christian churches established and shepherded by Chinese pastors? His unwavering faith in the ultimate and universal triumph of the gospel in China was a tower of strength to all associated with him. When the news of his death reached me at our inland station, the thought rushed into my mind: “Know ye not that there is a prince and a great man fallen this day in Israel?”

The world will ever seem more lonely without him. His sympathy and help could always be counted on in every kind of true missionary work. His labors were crowned with success and honor continuously, until he was summoned by the Master to a higher and wider sphere where his saints serve him.

It seems to me that the man who is entitled to be heard next is the Rev. Dr. W. M. Hayes, now of[330] Tsingchow fu, but formerly—after the resignation of Dr. Mateer—the head of the Tengchow College. There is no one of his associates on the mission field in whom Dr. Mateer had greater confidence; and for years they were in such constant contact that they knew each other most thoroughly. A few days after the burial a memorial service was held at Wei Hsien, and at this Dr. Hayes made an extended address before an audience including the students of the college. The respective lines of thought which he first elaborated were his faithfulness to Christ’s service, his resolution, his attention to great matters, and his industry. In the conclusion he said:

Let us strive to make his strong spiritual qualities our own. Of these, the most conspicuous were three: First, his faith. The morning he died, replying to an inquiry of his brother, he said, “I have left those things long ago in the hands of my Father.” Later, and only a few hours before his death, he said, as if speaking to himself, “We are justified of the Lord Jesus.” It is not strange that with such a faith he fell asleep as a little child would in its mother’s arms. Second, his reverential spirit. Though he did not fear the face of man, and was outspoken in his convictions, yet, especially in his later years, as one who had served with him on the Translation Committee from the first remarked, his reverence in approaching the divine presence was apparent to all. This was characteristic of him to the end. The last distinct utterance which he made was, “Holy! Holy! Holy! True and Mighty.” Lying prone on his couch, it seemed as if he saw the King in his beauty, and the[331] vision filled his soul with godly fear. Third, his forgiving spirit. Being a man of decided views, and disapproving of what did not seem to him wise and good, he did not always approve of the course taken by his colleagues; yet if convinced that a man was working with a single heart for the interest of Christ’s kingdom, he was ready to forgive, and to hope for the best. He loved the Lord who had forgiven him, and so loved those who had offended against himself. This extended both to those with whom he labored, and to those for whom he labored. One of his marked characteristics was not to give over any man who had fallen away, and he was always ready to give him another chance.

I have already noticed the intimacy of Dr. Chauncey Goodrich, of Peking, with Dr. Mateer. The tribute which he paid his long-time friend, and his associate and captain on the Mandarin Revision Committee through the many years of their labors, is perhaps the most comprehensive of all that have been published. It filled fourteen pages of “The Chinese Recorder,” and touches all the leading features of the life and work of Dr. Mateer. What he says as to the Mandarin version has especial weight. His testimony was:

In the interest of truth it must be added that no man gave so much time and hard work, or dug quite so deep. His effort to produce a translation which should match the original, to translate the figures and preserve their beauty, was extraordinary.... At these sessions Dr. Mateer by his strong and masterful personality, as well as by the thoroughness of his preparation, did much to set the style of the work.

First, his personality. In the Conference of 1890, Dr. Wright, secretary of the British and Foreign Bible Society, was with us. He remarked that “of all the men present at that conference, there were two whose personality most impressed him.” One of these was Dr. Mateer. He bore himself like a sort of prince among men, facile princeps. He was born to lead, not to follow. Having worked out his own conclusions, he was so sure of them that he expected, almost demanded, their acceptance by others. Yet he was not arrogant and was truly humble. Moreover, he could ask forgiveness for words that he felt had been too hasty or too harsh, feeling much broken by giving pain to a friend. In this he showed his greatness. He could also forgive and forget. But he was still a leader by the very force of his personality.

He had the quality of perseverance in a large degree. Having undertaken a work, he held to it with unwavering and unconquerable persistence to the end, ... and that not only because he gripped the work, but because the work gripped him. Had his life been spared, he would have worked steadily on through the Old Testament till the last verse of Malachi was finished, and the whole was carefully reviewed. Of Dr. Mateer’s habit of working till the end was reached Dr. Hamilton writes: “Not many months ago, at a meeting of the Shantung Board of Directors, we had a considerable amount of unfinished business, and the week was hastening to its close. No one had more work awaiting him at home than the Doctor. Yet when the question of the time of our dispersion was raised, he said: ‘I have always made it a rule, when[333] I attend meetings of this kind, to finish up the business in hand, no matter how long it takes.’” United to this quality of perseverance was a kindred quality of thoroughness, that appeared in everything he attempted.

Dr. Mateer possessed a rugged strength of character. He was almost Spartan in his ability to endure hardships, and in his careless scorn for the amenities and “elegant superfluities” of modern life. Yet “beneath a rugged and somewhat austere exterior” he had a heart of remarkable tenderness. He was a block of granite with the heart of a woman.

Rev. Mr. Baller also had been associated with Dr. Mateer in the revision of the Scriptures since 1900. He says of him:

He has left behind him an example of strenuous toil that it would be difficult to parallel; of iron constitution, he was able to do an amount of work that would have killed most men. His devotion to the cause of Christ was beyond praise. His recreation consisted in change of occupation, and he made all tend to the one end.

Ada, who in the last eight years of his life stood nearer to him by far than any other, and knew his innermost life, puts on record this supplement as to some of his traits not so fully brought out by the testimony of his friends:

Next to his reverence, the most noteworthy feature of his character was his love of truth: truth in the abstract, scientific truth and truth in the common conversation of life, but especially in matters of religion. He had no patience with the popular[334] maxim that it does not matter what a man believes, so long as he is sincere. “Is there no such thing as truth?” he would say. “Does it make no difference to a man whether the bank in which he invests is broken? Men are not such idiots in the ordinary affairs of life.” If it came to a choice between a polite lie and the impolite truth, he would choose the latter. He exalted truth above every other virtue. His love of it freed him from that trammeling of conventionality which binds so many. He would be the slave of no man-made custom.

Associated with this characteristic, perhaps a result of it, was the kindred love of freedom. One of his favorite texts was, “And ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” This sturdy independence he sought to impress on all minds coming under his influence. He had no patience with that kind of education that simply trained the Chinese to become “lackeys of the foreigners.” How his lips would curl as he muttered that phrase! He would waste money often in trying to help some one to assertive, manly work in independent lines, rather than as an employee. This sturdy force in his character was like the magnetic crane, which lifts pieces of iron, even though they have been hidden in the ground. It compelled the manhood in other men to assert itself; though hidden from view, yet to burst from its covering, and to be drawn up higher.

As already noted, the West Shantung Mission was in session at Wei Hsien when the tidings of Dr. Mateer’s death came; and before they adjourned they adopted a highly appreciative minute concerning him. In it they said, among other equally strong tributes to his worth:

No one ever went to him in trouble without finding sympathy and help. Frugal in his style of living, he gave generously of his personal means to many a needy man; and he made many considerable gifts to the college and to other departments of the work he so much loved. His name will long be a fragrant memory in our midst, and the Chinese will more and more, in the years to come, rise up and call him blessed.

The English Baptist Mission at their first meeting after his death adopted resolutions expressive of their deep sense of loss. One of these will serve as an example of all:

Combined with great strength of will and an enthusiasm which overcame all difficulties and opposition which stood in the way of the accomplishment of the great and arduous tasks, he was endowed with much tenderness of heart and a devoted loyalty to the gospel. He was a successful educator, a fine administrator, a powerful preacher, and a distinguished scholar; and his removal from amongst us has left a gap which will not soon or easily be filled.

The Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, under whom he had served for forty-five years, adopted an extended and highly appreciative paper. In one of the paragraphs, they say:

Dr. Mateer was a man of unusual ability and force of character; an educator, a scholar, and an executive of high capacity.... The Board records, with profound gratitude to God, its sense of the large usefulness of this great missionary educator. It[336] mourns that the work is no longer to have the benefit of his counsel, but it believes that he builded so wisely and so well that the results of his labors will long endure, and that his name will always have a prominent place in the history of missionary work in the Chinese Empire.

Secretary Brown, of that Board, in a letter to Rev. Robert Mateer, of Wei Hsien, said: “I regarded him as one of the great missionaries not only of China, but of the world.”

Scores upon scores of personal letters, and a large number of articles published in newspapers and periodicals, are available as tributes to his work and character. Necessarily, they repeat what is said in the quotations already given, though almost every one makes some valuable addition. Few of them were meant for publication, and it is not because of a lack of appreciation that any of them are omitted here.

Shall his biographer add his own estimate of the work and character of Dr. Mateer? If the writing of this book has been at all what it ought to be, this cannot be still needed; for, if he has revealed the inner and the outer life of this great Christian missionary as it deserves, and as he has aimed to do, then to turn back now and rehearse his characteristics would be a superfluity. Besides, if I begin, where shall I end? I must tell of his personality; his individuality; of his physique and of his psychical nature; of his peculiarities of intellect,—its vigor, versatility and vision; of his great heart, and the tenderness of it[337] that was not always externally manifest enough to command recognition; of his will that yielded never to numbers or force, but only to truth and duty; of a conscience whose voice would have made him defy anything that man could do to him; of a piety that rooted itself in the sovereignty and in the grace of Almighty God, and in the redemption which Christ finished on the cross; of a consecration that laid himself and all that he could bring upon the altar of divine service; of the preacher, the teacher, the scholar, the man of science, the man of business, and of the son, the husband, the brother, the fellow-disciple and associate in Christian service; of his economy of time and of money, and of his generosity; of his conservatism and his progressiveness; of his singleness of purpose, his courage, his persistence, his efficiency; of his weaknesses as well as of his strength; of his many successes and his few failures; and of how much more I cannot enumerate. I would be justified in comparing him with the very foremost of the servants of Christ, living or dead, who during the past century have consecrated their lives to the evangelization of China; or with Verbeck of Japan, or Duff of India. However, I will here venture further, only to invite as many as may to look well into the story of his life; and I am confident that they will join with me in saying: “This was a Christian; this was as distinctively a missionary, and as efficient as anyone of our age; and at the same time this was as manly a man as our generation has seen.”

In the “Pilgrim’s Progress” we read: “After this it was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth was taken with a summons by the same post as the other; and had this for a token that the summons was true, ‘That his pitcher was broken at the fountain.’ When he understood it he called for his friends, and told them of it. Then, said he, I am going to my Father’s; and though with great difficulty I am got thither, yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I had been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to him that succeeds me in my pilgrimage, and my courage and skill to him that may get it. My marks and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that I have fought His battle who now will be my rewarder. When the day that he must go hence was come, many accompanied him to the river side, into which as he went he said, ‘Death, where is thy sting?’ And as he went down deeper, he said, ‘Grave, where is thy victory?’ So he passed over, and all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.”

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	PAGE
Introduction	9
CHAPTER I
The Old Home	15
Birth—The Cumberland Valley—Parentage—Brothers and Sisters, Father, Mother, Grandfather—Removal to the “Hermitage”—Life on the Farm—In the Home—Stories of Childhood and Youth.
CHAPTER II
The Making of the Man	27
Native Endowments—Influence of the Old Home—A Country Schoolmaster—Hunterstown Academy—Teaching School—Dunlap’s Creek Academy—Profession of Religion—Jefferson College—Recollections of a Classmate—The Faculty—The Class of 1857—A Semi-Centennial Letter.
CHAPTER III
Finding His Life Work	40
Mother and Foreign Missions—Beaver Academy—Decision to be a Minister—Western Theological Seminary—The Faculty—Revival—Interest in Missions—Licentiate—Considering Duty as to Missions—Decision—Delaware, Ohio—Delay in Going—Ordination—Marriage—Going at Last.
CHAPTER IV
Gone to the Front	57
Bound to Shantung, China—The Voyage—Hardships and Trials on the Way—At Shanghai—Bound for Chefoo—Vessel on the Rocks—Wanderings on Shore—Deliverance and Arrival at Chefoo—By Shentza to Tengchow.	[vi]
CHAPTER V
The New Home	70
The Mateer Dwelling—Tengchow as It Was—The Beginning of Missions There—The Kwan Yin Temple—Making a Stove and Coal-press—Left Alone in the Temple—Its Defects—Building a New House—Home Life.
CHAPTER VI
His Inner Life	88
Not a Dreamer—Tenderness of Heart—Regeneration—Religious Reserve—Record of Religious Experiences—Depression and Relief—Unreserved Consecration—Maturity of Religious Life—Loyalty to Convictions.
CHAPTER VII
Doing the Work of an Evangelist	105
Acquiring the Language—Hindrances—Beginning to Speak Chinese—Chapel at Tengchow—Province of Shantung—Modes of Travel—Some Experiences in Travel—First Country Trip—Chinese Inns—A Four Weeks’ Itineration—To Wei Hsien—Hatred of Foreigners—Disturbance—Itinerating with Julia—Chinese Converts—To the Provincial Capital and Tai An—Curtailing His Itinerations—Later Trips.
CHAPTER VIII
The Tengchow School	128
The School Begun—Education and Missions—First Pupils—Means of Support—English Excluded—Growth of School—A Day’s Programme—Care of Pupils—Discipline—An Attempted Suicide—Conversion of a Pupil—First Graduates—Reception After Furlough—An Advance—Two Decades of the School.	[vii]
CHAPTER IX
The Press and Literary Labors	150
Contributions to the Periodicals—English Books—The Shanghai Mission Press—Temporary Superintendency—John Mateer—Committee on School Books—Earlier Chinese Books—School Books—Mandarin Dictionary—Mandarin Lessons—Care as to Publications—Pecuniary Returns.
CHAPTER X
The Care of the Native Christians	173
Reasons for Such Work—The Church at Tengchow—Discipline—Conversion of School Boys—Stated Supply at Tengchow—Pastor—As a Preacher—The Scattered Sheep—Miao of Chow Yuen—Ingatherings—Latest Country Visitations—“Methods of Missions”—Presbytery of Shantung—Presbytery in the Country—Synod of China—Moderator of Synod—In the General Assembly.
CHAPTER XI
The Shantung College	207
“The College of Shantung”—The Equipment—Physical and Chemical Apparatus—Gathering the Apparatus—The Headship Laid Down—The Anglo-Chinese College—Problem of Location and Endowment—Transfer of College to Wei Hsien—A New President—“The Shantung Christian University”—Personal Removal to Wei Hsien—Temporary President—Official Separation—The College of To-day.
CHAPTER XII
With Apparatus and Machinery	236
Achievements—Early Indications—Self-Development—Shop—Early Necessities—As a Help in Mission Work—Visitors—Help to Employment for Natives—Filling Orders—A Mathematical Problem—Exhibitions.	[viii]
CHAPTER XIII
The Mandarin Version	252
First Missionary Conference—The Chinese Language—Second Missionary Conference—Consultation as to New Version of Scriptures—The Plan—Selection of Translators—Translators at Work—Difficulties—Style—Sessions—Final Meeting—New Testament Finished—Lessons Learned—Conference of 1907—Translators of the Old Testament.
CHAPTER XIV
Incidents by the Way	275
Trials—Deaths—The “Rebels”—Tientsin Massacre—Japanese War with China—Boxer Uprising—Famine—Controversies—English in the College—Pleasures—Distinctions and Honors—Journeys—Furloughs—Marriage—The Siberian Trip—Scenes of Early Life.
CHAPTER XV
Facing the New China	305
The Great Break-Up—Past Anticipations—A Maker of the New China—Influence of Missionaries—Present Indications—Dangers—Duties—Future of Christianity.
CHAPTER XVI
Called Up Higher	319
The Last Summer—Increasing Illness—Taken to Tsingtao—The End—A Prayer—Service at Tsingtao—Funeral at Chefoo—Tributes of Dr. Corbett, Dr. Hayes, Dr. Goodrich, Mr. Baller, Mrs. A. H. Mateer—West Shantung Mission—English Baptist Mission—Presbyterian Board—Secretary Brown—Biographer—“Valiant for the Truth.”

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Calvin Wilson Mateer, forty-five years a missionary in Shantung, China

CALVIN WILSON MATEER

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

PREFACE

I
THE OLD HOME

II
THE MAKING OF THE MAN

III
FINDING HIS LIFE WORK

IV
GONE TO THE FRONT

V
THE NEW HOME

VI
HIS INNER LIFE

VII
DOING THE WORK OF AN EVANGELIST

VIII
THE TENGCHOW SCHOOL

IX
THE PRESS; LITERARY LABORS

X
THE CARE OF THE NATIVE CHRISTIANS

XI
THE SHANTUNG COLLEGE

XII
WITH APPARATUS AND MACHINERY

XIII
THE MANDARIN VERSION

XIV
INCIDENTS BY THE WAY

XV
FACING THE NEW CHINA

XVI
CALLED UP HIGHER

INDEX

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Calvin Wilson Mateer, forty-five years a missionary in Shantung, China

CALVIN WILSON MATEER

CONTENTS

INTRODUCTION

PREFACE

I THE OLD HOME

II THE MAKING OF THE MAN

III FINDING HIS LIFE WORK

IV GONE TO THE FRONT

V THE NEW HOME

VI HIS INNER LIFE

VII DOING THE WORK OF AN EVANGELIST

VIII THE TENGCHOW SCHOOL

IX THE PRESS; LITERARY LABORS

X THE CARE OF THE NATIVE CHRISTIANS

XI THE SHANTUNG COLLEGE

XII WITH APPARATUS AND MACHINERY

XIII THE MANDARIN VERSION

XIV INCIDENTS BY THE WAY

XV FACING THE NEW CHINA

XVI CALLED UP HIGHER