Servants of the King 
 
 iobert E. Speer
 
 UCSB LIBKAKY .,4-'
 
 Servants of the King 
 
 ROBERT E. SPEER 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 MISSIONARY EDUCATION MOVEMENT 
 
 OF THE UNITED STATES AND CANADA 
 
 1914
 
 Copyright, 1909, by 
 Young People's Missionary Mo\-ement 
 
 OF THE Ul-IITED StATES AND CANADA
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 Preface vii 
 
 I David Livingstone 1 
 
 II Henry Benjamin Whipple 19 
 
 III William Taylor 35 
 
 IV Alice Jackson 55 
 
 V Guido Fridolin Verbeck IZ 
 
 VI Eleanor Chesnut 89 
 
 VII Matthew Tyson Yates 115 
 
 VIII Isabella Thoburn 137 
 
 IX James Robertson 153 
 
 X John Coleridge Patteson 173 
 
 XI Ion Keith-Falconer 189 
 
 Index 205 
 
 itt
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Page 
 
 David Livingstone 3 
 
 Inscription on the Tree in Ilala, Africa, Under 
 
 Which the Heart of Livingstone Was Buried 15 
 
 Henry Benjamin Whipple 21 
 
 The Rev. J. J. Enmegahbowh, a Full-blood Chippewa, 
 
 Ordained by Bishop Henry B. Whipple 25 
 
 William Taylor 37 
 
 Missionary Journeys of William Taylor 50 
 
 Alice Jackson 57 
 
 Smith College Basket-ball Team 61 
 
 Guido Fridolin Verbeck 75 
 
 Decoration of the Order of the Rising Sun 85 
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 91 
 
 Ruins of the Lien-chou Hospital, China 107 
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 117 
 
 Yates Memorial Hall, Shanghai, China 133 
 
 Isabella Thoburn 139 
 
 Isabella Thoburn College, Lucknow, India 145 
 
 James Robertson 155 
 
 James Robertson's Grave in the Kildonan Churchyard, 
 
 Manitoba 165 
 
 John Coleridge Patteson 175 
 
 Facsimile of a Letter Written by Bishop Patteson 
 
 from Melanesia 183 
 
 Ion Keith-Falconer 191 
 
 Keith-Falconer's Home in Scotland 201 
 
 Ruins of His Home in Arabia 201 
 
 V
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The Bible itself is, in the main, simply a book 
 of biographies. The most wonderful part of it is 
 the biography of Jesus. The next most wonderful is 
 the life and letters of Saint Paul. And almost all 
 of the Old Testament is either the record of men's 
 lives or God's revelation through men who, in pro- 
 claiming the message which had been given to them 
 of God, also unawares laid bare their own inmost 
 souls. Through the lives of men and of his own 
 Son, God has revealed his truth, and in the record 
 of their lives reveals it still. 
 
 And we learn best what this revelation of God 
 means and can effect, by studying it, first in itself, 
 and then in true men who have studied it and who 
 are living by it. Of all such, none have lived more 
 richly or originally than the missionaries who have 
 gone out to live now such lives as Paul lived, and 
 to work such work as Paul wrought nearly nineteen 
 centuries ago. 
 
 The sketches in this volume are studies of such 
 men and women. Some worked at home, and some 
 abroad. Some are known to all, and some to smaller 
 circles, but in each one the great principles of the 
 Savior's own life were in a true though lesser meas-
 
 via Preface 
 
 ure incarnate, and our purpose in studying them 
 should be to find those principles and open a larger 
 place for them in our own lives. As they served 
 Christ, so also ought we to serve him. And surely 
 we will serve him better as we see what a fine, great 
 thing their service was. 
 
 If those who study these sketches wish to consult 
 fuller biographies, they may turn to the following, 
 from which the material for the sketches has been 
 drawn: Blaikie, The Personal Life of David 
 Livingstone; Whipple, Lights and Shadows of a 
 Long Episcopate; Taylor, The Story of My Life; 
 Speer, A Memorial of Alice Jackson; Grififis, Verheck 
 of Japan; Taylor, The Story of Yates, the Mission- 
 ary; Gordon, The Life of James Robertson; Tho- 
 burn, Life of Isabella Thoburn; Yonge, Life of John 
 Coleridge Patteson; Sinker, Memorials of the Hon- 
 orable Ion Keith-Falconer, 
 
 Robert E. Speer. 
 
 New York City, 
 
 April 15, 1909.
 
 DAVID LIVINGSTONE
 
 I will place no value on anything I have or may possess, 
 except in relation to the kingdom of Christ. 
 
 — David Livingstone
 
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 DAVID LIVINGSTONE 
 
 IN Westminster Abbey the visitor, wandering 
 about studying the monuments and inscriptions, 
 comes in the middle of the nave upon a large black 
 slab set in the floor bearing these words : 
 
 BROUGHT BY FAITHFUL HANDS 
 
 OVER LAND AND SEA^ 
 
 HERE RESTS 
 
 DAVID LIVINGSTONE, 
 
 MISSIONARY, TRAVELER, PHILANTHROPIST, 
 
 Born March 19, 18 13, 
 At Blantyre, Lanarkshire. 
 Died May 4, 1873, 
 At Chitambo's Village, Ilala. 
 
 On the right border of the stone is a Latin sen- 
 tence, and along the left border : 
 
 OTHER SHEEP I HAVE WHICH ARE NOT OF THIS FOLD, 
 THEM ALSO I MUST BRING, AND THEY SHALL HEAR 
 MY VOICE. 
 
 This is the resting-place of the body, but not of 
 the heart, of the Scotch weaver lad who went out 
 
 3
 
 4 Servants of the King 
 
 from his simple home an unknown lad and died as 
 one of the greatest and most honored of men. 
 
 From his earliest childhood he was of a calm, self- 
 reliant nature. We are told by his best biographer 
 that '*it was his father's habit to lock the door at 
 dusk, by which time all the children were expected 
 to be in the house. One evening David had infringed 
 this rule, and when he reached the door it was 
 barred. He made no cry nor disturbance, but, hav- 
 ing procured a piece of bread, sat down contentedly 
 to pass the night on the doorstep. There, on looking 
 out, his mother found him. ... At the age of nine 
 he got a New Testament from his Sunday-school 
 teacher for repeating the 119th Psalm on two suc- 
 cessive evenings with only five errors, a proof that 
 perseverance was bred in the bone." 
 
 At the age of ten he went to work in the cotton 
 factory as a piecer, and after some years was pro- 
 moted to be a spinner. The first half-crown he 
 earned he gave to his mother. With part of his 
 first week's wages he bought a Latin text-book and 
 studied that language with ardor in an evening class 
 between eight and ten. He had to be in the factory 
 at six in the morning and his work ended at eight 
 at night. But by working at Latin until midnight 
 he mastered Virgil and Horace by the time he was 
 sixteen. He used to read in the factory by putting 
 the book on the spinning- jenny so that he could catch
 
 David Livingstone 5 
 
 a sentence at a time as he passed at his work. He 
 was fond of botany and geology and zoology, and 
 when he could get out would scour the country for 
 specimens. On one expedition he and his brother 
 caught a big salmon, and, to conceal the fish, which 
 they had no right to take, they put it in his brother's 
 trousers leg and so got it home. 
 
 When he was about twelve he began to have se- 
 rious thoughts about deeper things, but not till he 
 was twenty did the great change come which 
 brought into his life the strength of the consciousness 
 of his duty to God. Feeling *'that the salvation of 
 men ought to be the chief desire and aim of every 
 Christian," he made a resolution "that he would give 
 to the cause of missions all that he might earn be- 
 yond what was required for his subsistence." But 
 at twenty-one he read an appeal by Mr. Gutzlaff on 
 behalf of China, and from that time he sought him- 
 self to enter the foreign mission field, influenced by 
 "the claim of so many millions of his fellow crea- 
 tures and the want of qualified missionaries." So 
 he went out from his home to follow the advice of 
 old David Hogg, one of the patriarchs of the village : 
 **Now, lad, make religion the every-day business of 
 your life, and not a thing of fits and starts; for if 
 you do, temptation and other things will get the 
 better of you."
 
 6 Servants of the King 
 
 China was the land to which Livingstone wished 
 to go, but the opium war prevented his doing so 
 at once. About the same time he came into con- 
 tact with Dr. Robert Moffat, who was then in 
 England creating much interest in his South African 
 mission. He told Livingstone of ''a vast plain to 
 the north where he had sometimes seen, in the morn- 
 ing sun, the smoke of a thousand villages, where no 
 missionary had ever been," and it was not long 
 before the young Scotch student decided for Africa. 
 Livingstone was thorough in his preparation, as he 
 was in all things. He determined to get a medical as 
 well as a theological education. To do it he had to 
 borrow books, to earn his own way, and to live with 
 the closest economy, paying alx)ut fifty cents a week 
 for the rent of his room. The first time he tried to 
 preach he entirely forgot his sermon, and saying, 
 *Triends, I have forgotten all I had to say," he hur- 
 ried out of the pulpit and left the chapel. One of his 
 acquaintances of those days wTote, years after, that 
 even then his two strongest characteristics were sim- 
 plicity and resolution. "Now after forty years," he 
 adds, "I remember his step, the characteristic for- 
 ward tread, firm, simple, resolute, neither fast nor 
 slow, no hurry and no dawdle, but which evidently 
 meant — getting there." 
 
 On December 8, 1840, he sailed for Africa, going 
 out by way of Brazil and the Cape of Good Hope.
 
 David Livingstone 7 
 
 The captain of the ship taught him the use of the 
 quadrant and how to take observations. He was to 
 find good use for this knowledge. Arriving at the 
 Cape, he went on to his first station, Kuruman, but 
 he had no thought of staying there or of working 
 in any fixed groove. He was thinking of new plans, 
 and, above all, his eyes were turned northward to- 
 ward the great region absolutely untouched and un- 
 known. The first period of his work might be 
 roughly marked as from 1840 to 1852. From Kuru- 
 man he made several trips deeper into the country, 
 and had some of those experiences with lions of 
 which he was to have so many. 
 
 On one trip he broke a finger, and when it was 
 healing broke it again by the recoil of a revolver 
 which he shot at a lion which made him a sudden 
 visit in the middle of the night. Some of his trips 
 were in ox-wagons and some on ox-back. *Tt is 
 rough traveling, as you can conceive," he wrote. 
 *'The skin is so loose there is no getting one's great- 
 coat, which has to serve both as saddle and blanket, 
 to stick on; and then the long horns in front, with 
 which he can give one a punch in the abdomen if he 
 likes, make us sit as bolt upright as dragoons. In 
 this manner I traveled more than four hundred 
 miles." His investigations were undertaken on his 
 own responsibility. He wrote home to ask the direc- 
 tors of the London Missionary Society to approve,
 
 8 Servants of the King 
 
 but if they did not, he said, he was at their disposal 
 "to go anywhere, provided it he forward." 
 
 He soon left Kuruman to locate at Mabotsa, and 
 it was there that a lion nearly killed him, tearing his 
 flesh and crushing the bone in his shoulder. A na- 
 tive diverted the attention of the lion when his paw 
 was on Livingstone's head. When asked once what 
 he thought when the lion was over him, Livingstone 
 answered: "I was thinking what part of me he 
 would eat first." When years later his body was 
 brought home to England it was by the false joint 
 in the crushed arm that it was identified. To avoid 
 friction at Mabotsa, Livingstone, who had just built 
 a house and laid out a garden, but who would quar- 
 rel with no one, gave up the station and went on with 
 the daughter of Robert and Mary Moffat, the great 
 missionaries of South Africa, whom he had just 
 married, and established a new station at Chonuane. 
 But there was no water there, so he moved again to 
 Kolobeng, on the river of that name, and the whole 
 tribe among whom he lived moved with him. 
 
 Kolobeng was unhealthful, and far beyond it 
 stretched the vast unknown interior. Something in 
 Livingstone's heart told him to go on. So on he 
 went. On August i, 1849, he discovered Lake 
 'Ngami, a body of water so big that he could not see 
 the opposite shore. And, later, he found the River 
 Zambezi. The lake was 870 miles from Kuruman
 
 David Livingstone 9 
 
 across a desert. He must find a passage to the sea on 
 either the west or the east coast. ''Providence seems 
 to call me to the regions beyond," he wrote, and he 
 heard ever more loudly the call of God to strike at 
 the awful slave traffic. But what should he do with 
 his wife and children ? The only course was to send 
 them home to Scotland. So, hard as it was, he took 
 them to Cape Town in March, 1852, the whole party 
 appearing out of the interior in clothes of curious 
 and outworn fashions, having been eleven years 
 away from civilization, and in April he parted from 
 his family and turned back into the darkness. 
 
 Before he reached Kolobeng the Boers had at- 
 tacked and destroyed that station. With all ties to 
 any one place now broken, he started north, and in 
 June, 1853, reached Linyanti, fifteen hundred miles 
 north from the Cape. It was a hard and dangerous 
 journey, part of it made with fever, through swamps 
 and thickets and water three or four feet deep. 
 *'With our hands all raw and bloody and knees 
 through our trousers, we at length emerged. But,'' 
 as he wrote in his journals on the way, "if God has 
 accepted my service, then my life is charmed till my 
 work is done. ... I will place no value on anything 
 I have or may possess, except in relation to the king- 
 dom of Christ. If anything will advance the inter- 
 ests of that kingdom, it shall be given away or kept 
 only as by giving or keeping of it I shall most pro-
 
 lo Servants of the King 
 
 mote the glory of him to whom I owe all my hopes 
 in time and eternity. May grace and strength suffi- 
 cient to enable me to adhere faithfully to this reso- 
 lution be imparted to me, so that in truth, not in 
 name only, all my interests and those of my children 
 may be identified with his cause. ... I will try 
 and remember always to approach God in secret with 
 as much reverence in speech, posture, and behavior 
 as in public. Help me, thou who knowest my frame 
 and pitiest as a father his children." Evidences of 
 the curse of the slave-trade multiplied constantly, 
 and he saw more clearly at Linyanti that both for 
 the suppression of that traffic and for the expansion 
 of the missionary work it was necessary to open up 
 the continent. 
 
 Accordingly, on November ii, 1853, he started 
 westward for the Atlantic Ocean, and on May 31, 
 1854, came out at Loanda, about two hundred miles 
 south of the mouth of the Congo. He had thirty- 
 one attacks of fever on the way. He must find and 
 make his own road. The floods and rains kept him 
 almost constantly wet. Savages opposed him. He 
 had no white companions. He arrived ragged and 
 worn and exhausted, to find no letters from home 
 waiting for him. An ordinary man would have felt 
 that he had done enough and would have started for 
 home, but not Livingstone. He plunged back into 
 Africa and went eastward across the continent. He
 
 David Livingstone ii 
 
 left Loanda September 24, 1854, and reached Quili- 
 mane, on the opposite side of Africa, on May 20, 
 1856. On the way he became nearly deaf from fever 
 and nearly blind from being struck in the eye by a 
 branch of a tree in the forest. On this trip he dis- 
 covered the great Victoria Falls, higher and fuller 
 than Niagara, and he had yet more exciting times 
 with savage tribes, whom, as always, he found a way 
 to placate. From Quilimane he sailed for England, 
 arriving August, 1856. At Cairo he learned of the 
 death of his old father, who had longed to see him 
 once again. 
 
 He got a tremendous welcome home. The Scotch 
 weaver lad who had been all alone in Africa found 
 himself the great hero of the day in Scotland and 
 England. He was received by the men of science, 
 by the Queen and the royal family, by all friends of 
 humanity. He was given the freedom of the cities 
 of London, Edinburgh, and Glasgow, and honors of 
 the Universities of Glasgov/, and Oxford, and Cam- 
 bridge. Unspoiled by all the flattery, he left Eng- 
 land to return to Africa on March 10, 1858, going 
 out now to Quilimane as British consul for the east 
 coast and interior of Africa. As he sailed, he wrote 
 back to his son, Tom : 
 
 "London, 2nd February, 1858. — My Dear Tom: 
 I am soon going off from this country, and will leave 
 you to the care of him who neither slumbers nor
 
 12 Servants of the King 
 
 sleeps, and never disappointed any one who put his 
 trust in him. If you make him your friend, he will 
 be better to you than any companion can be. He 
 is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother. May 
 he grant you grace to seek him and to serve him. 
 I have nothing better to say to you than to take God 
 for your Father, Jesus for your Savior, and the 
 Holy Spirit for your sanctifier. Do this and you are 
 safe forever. No evil can then befall you. Hope 
 you will learn quickly and well, so as to be fitted for 
 God's service in the world." 
 
 "Pearl, in the Mersey, loth March, 1858. — My 
 Dear Tom : We are off again, and we trust that he 
 who rules the waves will watch over us and remain 
 with you, to bless us and make us blessings to our 
 fellow men. The Lord be with you, and be very 
 gracious to you ! Avoid and hate sin, and cleave to 
 Jesus as your Savior from guilt." 
 
 It was six years before Livingstone returned 
 again to England. During this time he explored the 
 Zambezi and the Shire rivers, making his way about 
 among the people, whatever the difficulties, always 
 with success, because he knew how to win and keep 
 their confidence and love by being himself ever 
 truthful, ever fearless. Mrs. Livingstone returned 
 with him to Africa on this trip, and died on April 
 27, 1862, at Shupanga, where she was buried, and 
 her husband went on alone to Lake Nyasa, making
 
 David Livingstone 13 
 
 unwearied explorations, surmounting the obstacles of 
 nature and bad men, and learning ever more and 
 more about the iniquity of the trade in slaves. 
 
 In 1864 he went to India and thence to England 
 for the last time. While there he learned of the 
 death of his son Robert, who fought on the North- 
 ern side in the American Civil War and lies buried 
 at Gettysburg, and his mother also died while he 
 was on his way. He got home in time to fulfil 
 her wish that one of her laddies should lay 
 her head in her grave. He had another crowded 
 year, which included the writing of a book, 
 as his previous visit had done, and then with 
 the last public words in Scotland, "Fear God 
 and work hard," he returned to Africa to open 
 up the unknown eastern interior. This time his con- 
 nection was with the Royal Geographical Society. 
 For the first six years he explored eastern equatorial 
 Africa, discovering new lakes, rivers, and moun- 
 tains, exposing the slaVe-trade, suffering, struggling, 
 but never yielding. One Christmas he writes, "Took 
 my belt up three holes to relieve hunger." He had 
 no white companion, and in 1866 the report reached 
 Zanzibar that he had been killed. 
 
 This story was found to be false, but still no white 
 man had seen Livingstone for a long time. He was 
 not seeking to be seen, however. In the dark of the 
 interior, all alone, hungry and weary, he was press-
 
 14 Servants of the King 
 
 ing on to open new country and to insure the future 
 freedom of poor and oppressed peoples. In 1871 
 he was reduced to the last straits, all the goods sent 
 to him at Ujiji having been sold by the rascal 
 Shereef to whom they had been consigned ; but just 
 then Henry M. Stanley, who had been sent by the 
 New York Herald to find him, came to him after a 
 long search, bringing him ample stores. What im- 
 pression he made on Stanley, Stanley himself has 
 told us : 
 
 "I defy any one to be in his society long without 
 thoroughly fathoming him, for in him there is no 
 guile, and what is apparent on the surface is the 
 thing that is in him. . . . Dr. Livingstone is about 
 sixty years old, though after he was restored to 
 health he looked like a man who had not passed his 
 fiftieth year. . . . You may take any point in Dr. 
 Livingstone's character and analyze it carefully, and 
 I would challenge any man to find a fault in it. . . . 
 His is the Spartan heroism, the inflexibility 
 of the Roman, the enduring resolution of the 
 Anglo-Saxon — never to relinquish his work, though 
 his heart yearns for home; never to surrender his 
 obligations until he can write finis to his work." 
 
 Refreshed by Stanley's visit and the supplies he 
 brought, Livingstone turned inland again, hunting 
 for the source of the Nile and fighting the slave- 
 trade. The iron frame had been taxed almost to its
 
 INSCRIPTION' OX THE TREE IN ILALA, AFRICA, UNDER WHICH THE HEART OF 
 LIVINGSTONE WAS BURIED
 
 David Livingstone 15 
 
 limit, however, and ever fresh difficulties had to be 
 overcome. His last birthday, March 19, 1873, found 
 him very weak. 
 
 "The 29th of April was the last day of his travels. 
 In the morning he directed Susi to take down the 
 side of the hut that the kitanda might be brought to 
 him, as the door would not admit it, and he was quite 
 unable to w^alk to it. Then came the crossing of a 
 river; then progress through swamps and plashes; 
 and when they got to anything like a dry plain he 
 would ever and anon beg of them to lay him down. 
 At last they got him to Chitambo's village, in Ilala, 
 where they had to put him under the eaves of a 
 house during a drizzling rain, until the hut they 
 were building should be got ready. 
 
 "Then they laid him on a rough bed in the hut, 
 where he spent the night. Next day he lay undis- 
 turbed. He asked a few wandering questions about 
 the country — especially about Luapula. His people 
 knew that the end could not be far off. Nothing oc- 
 curred to attract notice during the early part of the 
 night, but at four in the morning the boy who lay 
 at his door called in alarm for Susi, fearing that 
 their master w^as dead. By the candle still burning 
 they saw him, not in bed, but kneeling at the bedside 
 with his head buried in his hands upon the pillow. 
 The sad yet not unexpected truth soon became evi- 
 dent : he had passed away on the farthest of all his
 
 1 6 Servants of the King 
 
 journeys, and without a single attendant. But he 
 had died in the act of prayer — prayer offered in that 
 reverential attitude about which he was always so 
 particular; commending his own spirit, w^ith all his 
 dear ones, as w^as his wont, into the hands of his 
 Savior; and commending Africa — his own dear Af- 
 rica — with all her woes and sins and wrongs, to the 
 Avenger of the oppressed and the Redeemer of the 
 lost." 
 
 His faithful African companions prepared his 
 body for transportation to the coast, burying his 
 heart and other organs at the foot of a mvida tree 
 in Ilala, which is now marked with a rough inscrip- 
 tion. The body they carried to Zanzibar. Thence 
 it was taken to England and buried in the Abbey 
 under the great slab which bears his name, and the 
 feelings of the whole world were expressed in the 
 lines in Punch: 
 
 **Droop, half-mast colors, bow, bareheaded crowds, 
 As this plain coffin o'er the side is slung, 
 To pass by woods of masts and ratlined shrouds, 
 As erst by Afric's trunks, liana-hung. 
 
 " 'Tis the last mile of many thousands trod 
 With failing strength, but never-failing will, 
 By the worn frame, now at its rest with God, 
 That never rested from its fight with ill. 
 
 "Or if the ache of travel and of toil 
 
 Would sometimes wring a short, sharp cry of pain 
 From agony of fever, blain, and boil, 
 
 'Twas but to crush it down and on again!
 
 David Livingstone 17 
 
 *'He knew not that the trumpet he had blown 
 Out of the darkness of that dismal land, 
 Had reached and roused an army of its own 
 To strike the chains from the slave's fettered hand. 
 
 ^*Now we believe, he knows, sees all is well ; 
 
 How God had stayed his will and shaped his way. 
 To bring the light to those that darkling dwell 
 With gains that life's devotion well repay. 
 
 *'Open the Abbey doors and bear him in 
 
 To sleep with king and statesman, chief and sage, 
 The missionary come of weaver-kin. 
 
 But great by work that brooks no lower wage. 
 
 *'He needs no epitaph to guard a name 
 
 Which men shall prize while worthy work is known ; 
 He lived and died for good — be that his fame : 
 Let marble crumble: this is Living — stone."
 
 HENRY BENJAMIN WHIPPLE 
 
 >9
 
 I ask only Justice for a wronged and neglected race. 
 
 — Henry Benjamin Whipple
 
 H. <^. O^^KvVV'^^
 
 II 
 
 HENRY BENJAMIN WHIPPLE 
 
 THERE are causes which need to be fought for. 
 Sometimes it is right to fight for them with 
 arms, though it is terrible when it is so. But wrong 
 is not to be allowed to flourish unopposed, and those 
 who oppose it must be prepared to meet it fearlessly. 
 Often the conflict calls for no physical strife. It is a 
 moral struggle. But it is a struggle, as truly as the 
 work Paul had done and the life he had lived seemed 
 to him to have been "a good fight." And Paul was 
 glad that he had fought manfully, had put his soul in 
 it, and, whatever his own fate, had prevailed. That 
 is the only way to wage any battle. 
 
 In the last century one of the great struggles was 
 for justice to the American Indian. Little by little 
 his lands were taken from him. He was driven west- 
 ward from the East and eastward from the West. 
 Hemmed in by the encircling and ever-contracting 
 lines of white encroachment, his hunting-grounds 
 were destroyed, the money promised him was squan- 
 dered before it reached him, or, if it reached him, was 
 
 21
 
 22 Servants of the King 
 
 made an occasion of debauching him, his manhood 
 was ruined by the trade in liquor, vices of which 
 he never knew were introduced, and the solemn 
 treaties made with him by the government were 
 broken. At one of the councils between the govern- 
 ment representatives and the chiefs of the Sioux, an 
 aged Sioux, holding in his hands the treaties made 
 with the Sioux, said: "The first white man who 
 came to make a treaty promised to do certain things 
 for us. He was a liar." He repeated the substance 
 of each treaty, always ending with, "He lied." And 
 his accusation was true. When Red Cloud was once 
 asked for a toast at a public dinner, he rose and said : 
 "When men part they look forward to meeting 
 again. I hope that one day we may meet in a land 
 where white men are not liars." 
 
 The Indians needed a friend who would fight for 
 them in their struggle against the Injustice and 
 wrong with which they were forced to contend. And 
 God raised up for them a defender. He tells us that 
 as a small boy he had a foreshadowing of the battles 
 he was to fight for his "poor Indians." 
 
 "It was upon the occasion of a quarrel," he writes, 
 "between a boy much older than myself and another 
 half his size. Indignant at the unrighteousness of 
 an unequal fight, I rushed upon the bully and in due 
 season went home triumphant, but with clothes torn 
 and face covered with blood. My dear mother, with
 
 Henry Benjamin Whipple 23 
 
 an expression of horror upon her fine face, ran 
 toward me and, putting her arms around me, cried : 
 'My darling boy, what has happened? Why are 
 you in this dreadful condition?' 'Yes, I know it's 
 bad,' was my answer ; 'but, mother, you ought to see 
 the other fellow!'" 
 
 This boy was Henry Benjamin Whipple, the fu- 
 ture Bishop of Minnesota, and the unwearied friend 
 and protector of the Indians. He was born in 
 Adams, Jefferson County, New York, on February 
 15, 1822. At ten years of age he was sent to a 
 boarding-school in Clinton, New York, and later to 
 Oberlin College, where the great Charles G. Finney 
 w^as then president. His health failed as a student, 
 and he went into business and politics, where he did 
 so well that when his health improved and he entered 
 the Episcopal ministry, Thurlow Weed, one of the 
 leading New York politicians, said that he "hoped 
 a good politician had not been spoiled to make a 
 poor preacher." One of his first lessons as a preacher 
 was from an old judge, who, after what Henry felt 
 was a great sermon, laid his hand on his shoulder 
 and said: ''Henry, no matter how long you live, 
 never preach that sermon again. Tell man of the 
 love of Jesus Christ, and then you will help him." 
 "It taught me," said Bishop Whipple, "that God's 
 message in Jesus Christ is to the heart." 
 
 His first preaching appointment was in Rome,
 
 24 Servants of the King 
 
 New York. Then he went to Florida, and, working 
 as he did always and everywhere for all sorts and 
 conditions of men, gained a lifelong interest in the 
 negro. Next he went to Chicago and established 
 a new church there, gathering the people in from 
 the highways and hedges and visiting every shop 
 and saloon and factory within a mile of his hall. 
 To get hold of the railway men he studied the struc- 
 ture of steam-engines. 
 
 In 1859 Mr. Whipple was elected Bishop of Min- 
 nesota, and began his work in the fall, and imme- 
 diately visited the Indians, of whom 20,000 lived in 
 his diocese — the Chippewas, Sioux, and Winneba- 
 goes — and saw for himself their dark condition. At 
 the same time, as he said years later, he never found 
 an atheist among the North American Indians, and, 
 though the field was hard, that was the more reason 
 for not neglecting it. 
 
 The Bishop chose Faribault as his headquarters, 
 and had his first service there on February 19, i860. 
 It was a humble beginning in an insignificant vil- 
 lage. Now there are a Divinity School, with gray- 
 stone buildings, in a park of three acres; a Girls' 
 School, with pleasant grounds, and Shattuck School 
 for boys, with armory and elaborate buildings in a 
 place of 160 acres. Though often opposed, even 
 in Faribault, for his defense of the Indians, the 
 Bishop won over all foes, and when in 1895
 
 THE 2EV. J. J. ENMEGAH30WH, A FULL-BLOOD CHIPPEWA, ORDAINED BY 
 BI-SHOP HENRY B. WHIPPLE
 
 Henry Benjamin Whipple 25 
 
 the General Convention of the Protestant Epis- 
 copal Church met in St. Paul, the delegates visited 
 Faribault at the invitation of its citizens. How firm 
 a hold the Bishop had gained upon the affections of 
 the community was shown by what followed. There 
 could be no better test of true character. One of 
 the committee, a Roman Catholic, said, *There must 
 be a four-horse carriage for our Bishop," and when 
 it was suggested that the Bishop would think it un- 
 necessary, he exclaimed, *'The Bishop shall have a 
 four-horse carriage if I pay for it myself." And 
 when a Roman Catholic liveryman was asked how 
 many carriages he could furnish for the occasion, he 
 answered, "You can have every horse and carriage 
 in my stable without a dollar of expense." 
 
 The Bishop had plenty of rough-and-tumble work 
 to do in the early years. Among other things, he 
 learned early to pull teeth and to practise a little 
 medicine, and used his knowledge on his next visit 
 at White Fish Lake. 
 
 "After the service a chief came to me and, with 
 his hand on his cheek, said, 'Wibidakosi.' With a 
 not unmingled sensation I boldly answ^ered, T will 
 help you.^ He opened his mouth, and to my dismay 
 I saw that the sick tooth was a large molar on the 
 upper jaw. But 'in for a penny, in for a pound.' It 
 was a comfort to remember that Indians never show 
 signs of pain, no matter how great the agony. I
 
 26 Servants of the King 
 
 followed to the letter all the good doctor's directions 
 and I did pull. In spite of appearances I knew it 
 was the 'ligaments' and not an artery that I had cut, 
 but I used salt as heroically as I did the forceps, and 
 it was with no small degree of satisfaction that I 
 heard the old chief telling his people that 'Kichi- 
 mekadewiconaye w^as a great medicine man.' " 
 
 He was lost in winter storms on the prairie, and 
 he roughed it to and fro across the plains and among 
 the frontier settlements, without any thought of 
 sparing himself, only rejoicing that he could preach 
 the real gospel to hungry hearts, which often wel- 
 comed it in earnest but homely ways. After a ser- 
 mon preached in a town, an old woman said to him, 
 with tears in her eyes, 'Thank God, I got a good 
 boost to-day." A border man once said to him, 
 "There are two kinds of preaching, one with the lips 
 and one with the life, and life-preaching doesn't rub 
 out." 
 
 In 1 862 and again later there were outbreaks among 
 the Indians in Minnesota, in which fearful outrages 
 were perpetrated, but which would never have oc- 
 curred had there been just dealing w^ith the Indians. 
 Bishop Whipple spoke out for fair dealing and 
 against all revenge. In so doing he did what was 
 very unpopular. He fearlessly met the hostility 
 which his course aroused. When urged to omit his 
 blackest charges against the nation for the wrongs
 
 Henry Benjamin Whipple 27 
 
 inflicted on the Indians, he rephed : "They are true 
 and the nation needs to know them! And, so help 
 me God, I will tell them if I am shot the next min- 
 ute!" He made the charges before a gathering in 
 Cooper Union, New York City, in 1868, and it led 
 to the organization of the Indian Peace Commis- 
 sion. But, though he was firm, he was seeking not 
 to arouse enmity but to produce friendship, and he 
 had a way of winning men which led Captain Wil- 
 kins to say to some frontiersmen whom he heard 
 declare that they "must go down to Faribault and 
 clean out that Bishop" : "Boys, you don't know the 
 Bishop, but I do; he is my neighbor, and I will tell 
 you just what will happen when you go down to 
 'clean him out.' He will come on to the piazza and 
 talk to you five minutes, and you will wonder how 
 you ever made such fools of yourselves." The fron- 
 tiersmen went no further. 
 
 Bishop Whipple believed that it was rum which 
 made most havoc among the Indians. At one 
 Indian council he spoke very plainly against the 
 evils of the use of the fire-water. The head chief of 
 this band sometimes indulged in fire-water, and, be- 
 ing a cunning orator, he arose and said : 
 
 "You said to-day that the Great Spirit made the 
 world and all things in the world. If he did, he 
 made the fire-water. Surely he will not be angry
 
 28 Servants of the King 
 
 with his red children for drinking a Httle of what 
 he has made." 
 
 Bishop Whipple answered : 
 
 "My red brother is a wise chief, but wise men 
 sometimes say foolish things. The Great Spirit did 
 not make the fire-water. If my brother will show 
 me a brook of fire-water I will drink of it with him. 
 The Great Spirit made the corn and the wheat, and 
 put into them that which makes a man strong. The 
 devil showed the white man how to change this good 
 food of God into what will make a man crazy." 
 
 The Indians shouted ''Ho ! ho ! ho !" and the chief 
 was silenced. 
 
 The greater part of the work of his diocese was 
 not among the Indians, but in the fast-growing cities 
 and towns of the white people. Among them for 
 nearly half a century Bishop Whipple went to and 
 fro establishing churches and building up Christian 
 institutions and winning men to Christ. This last 
 was his constant work wherever he was. 
 
 He was tactful in trying to win all men. Bishop 
 Whipple tells the following story in his remi- 
 niscences, The Lights and Shadows of a Long 
 Episcopate: 
 
 "In the early days of my episcopate I often trav- 
 eled by stage-coach, and my favorite seat was beside 
 the driver. On one of these journeys from St. Cloud 
 to Crow Wing the driver struck one of the wheel
 
 Henry Benjamin Whipple 29 
 
 horses who was shirking his duty, accompanying the 
 blow with a fearful curse. There were three pas- 
 sengers on top of the coach, and, waiting until they 
 were absorbed in conversation, I leaned toward the 
 driver and said : 
 
 " 'Andrew, does Bob understand English ?' . 
 
 " 'What do you mean, Bishop ?' was the response. 
 'Are you chaffing me ?' 
 
 " 'No,' I answered. 'I really want to know why 
 the whip was not sufficient for Bob, or was it neces- 
 sary to damn him ?' 
 
 "The man laughed and answered: 'I don't say 
 it's right, but we stage-drivers all swear.' 
 
 " 'Do you know what it is to be a stage-driver ?' 
 I asked. 
 
 " 'I ought to know,' was the reply. 'I've done it 
 all my life; it's driving four horses.' 
 
 " 'Do you think that is all?' I asked. 
 
 " 'Well, it's all I have ever found in it,' was the 
 reply. 
 
 "I said : 'Andrew, there is a civil war going on 
 and men are fighting on the Potomac. There are 
 five hundred troops at Fort Ripley, and there is no 
 telegraph. There may be an order in this mail-bag 
 for these troops to go to the front. If they get there 
 before the next battle, w^e may win it ; if not, we may 
 lose it. When you go down to-morrow there may be 
 a draft in the mail-bag for a merchant to pay his
 
 30 Serv^ants of the King 
 
 note in St. Paul. If the St. Paul man receives the 
 draft, he will pay his note in Chicago, and the Chi- 
 cago man in turn can pay his note in New York. 
 But if this draft does not go through, some one may 
 fail and cause other failures, and a panic may ensue. 
 Andrew, you are the man whom God in his provi- 
 dence has put here to see that all this goes straight, 
 and it is my opinion that you can do better than to 
 use his name in cursing your horses.' 
 
 "The man said nothing for some time, and then, 
 looking earnestly into my face, he said : 
 
 " 'Bishop, you've given me a new idea. I never 
 thought of the thing in that way, and, God helping 
 me, I will never use another oath.' 
 
 "It changed the current of the man's life and he 
 became an upright and respected citizen." 
 
 His work was effective with men because they 
 knew he loved and believed that God loved them. 
 He also believed in the unity and fellowship of all 
 who loved Christ. 
 
 "The heaviest sorrows of my heart have come 
 from a lack of love among brothers. When this 
 love shall make men take knowledge of us that we 
 have been with Jesus and compel them to say, 'See 
 how these Churchmen love one another,' we may be, 
 in God's hands, the instruments to heal these divi- 
 sions w^hich have rent the seamless robe of Christ. 
 And when I plead for love I plead for love to all who
 
 Henry Benjamin Whipple 31 
 
 love Christ. Shall we not claim as our kinsman 
 Carey, the English cobbler, who went out as the first 
 missionary to India, and who translated for them 
 the Bible; and Morrison, the first missionary to 
 China ; and David Livingstone, who died for Christ 
 in heathen Africa; and Father Damien. who gave 
 his life to save lepers; and the Moravians, who of- 
 fered to be sold as slaves if the King of Denmark 
 would permit them to carry the gospel to the black 
 men?" 
 
 If all Christians felt this way more men would be 
 Christians. 
 
 In 1865 Bishop Whipple went abroad and visited 
 Egypt. Five years later he was in Europe again. 
 In 1888 he attended the Lambeth Conference of 
 Bishops of the Anglican Church in England and 
 preached the opening sermon. On this visit he was 
 given the degree of Doctor of Laws by Cambridge 
 University, and made an Indian speech which he 
 said "the boys cheered like mad." In 1890 his health 
 led him again to Europe and Egypt, and he was re- 
 ceived by the Queen at Windsor Castle and preached 
 in Westminster Abbey on his Indians. Seven years 
 later he was in England again, preaching and work- 
 ing, and, as always, commending to men the love of 
 their Heavenly Father. In 1899 he was back once 
 more, and for the last time, to represent the Protes-
 
 32 Servants of the King 
 
 tant Episcopal Church at the Centenary of the 
 Church Missionary Society of England. 
 
 But, though he went to and fro, he never laid down 
 the work of his ow^n field, and in 1871, after no little 
 struggle of mind, refused to take the bishopric of 
 the Hawaiian Islands offered by the Archbishop of 
 Canterbury. It would have been a better climate for 
 him, but he loved Minnesota, and at that time the 
 Indians were a great and holy responsibility. When 
 his health broke he got it repaired again, and his love 
 of fishing, of which he was a master, and of open 
 life helped to keep him strong. 
 
 Bishop Whipple knew all the Presidents of the 
 United States from Jackson to McKinley. He was 
 a man of bright and hopeful spirit. He said, at the 
 close of his volume of reminiscences : 
 
 "My readers may think me an optimist, but a 
 Christian has no right to be anything else. This is 
 God's world, not the devil's. It is ruled by One who 
 is 'the Lord our Righteousness,' 'the same yester- 
 day and to-day, yea, and for ever.' . . . Ours is not 
 a forlorn hope. We may, out of the gloom of our 
 perplexed hearts, cry, 'Watchman, what of the 
 night?' But faith answers, The morning cometh.' " 
 
 Into the brightness of the city, where there is 
 neither evening nor morning, but light forever, arid 
 light without light of sun or light of moon to shine 
 upon it, because the glory of God alone lightens it,
 
 Henry Benjamin Whipple 33 
 
 he passed on September 16, 1901, leaving- behind 
 him a great diocese as a memorial, and, what is even 
 more than a great diocese, a great love in the hearts 
 of men.
 
 WILLIAM TAYLOR
 
 I belong to God ^William Taylor 
 
 36
 
 
 f^Cuy.^^<Si-,
 
 Ill 
 
 WILLIAM TAYLOR 
 
 OF good old American stock which ran back to 
 the days before the Revolutionary War, Will- 
 iam Taylor was born in Rockbridge County, Vir- 
 ginia, May 2, 1 82 1. He was the first child in 
 a family of five sons and six daughters. The warm, 
 enthusiastic faith of the Methodist Church laid hold 
 on his father, and William drevv^ breath in the same 
 atmosphere and was marked out from boyhood for 
 the work of the ministry. He was sent to his first 
 circuit under appointment by the presiding elder 
 when he was twenty-one. "He is muscular and 
 bony," said Brother Seaver, describing his appear- 
 ance at Crabbottom, "tall and slender, with an im- 
 mense pair of shoulders on him. Being a tailor 
 by trade, I may be allowed to say that the man who 
 cut his coat ought to be sent to the penitentiary and 
 put to hard labor till he learns his business; and 
 as for the pants, all I have to say is that the widest- 
 toed boots I ever saw were stuck about six inches 
 too far through. The young man is awfully in 
 
 ^7
 
 38 Servants of the King 
 
 earnest, and preaches with power, both human and 
 divine, and can sing just as loud as he hkes." 
 
 He went straight at men for their Hves. At Red 
 Holes he joined the men in log-rolling in the woods 
 the afternoon of the day he was to preach. None of 
 them could match him, and as he invited them to 
 come to the meeting they exclaimed : *'He's a tre- 
 mendous fellow to roll logs." *'If he is as good in 
 the use of the Bible as he is of the handspike he'll 
 do." "He's the boy for the mountaineers." "He 
 don't belong to your Miss Nancy, soft-handed, kid- 
 gloved gentry." "Come on, boys, we'll hear the 
 new preacher to-night." "In that afternoon," said 
 he, "I got a grip on that people more than equivalent 
 to six months' hard preaching and pastoral work." 
 
 His salary at the beginning of his ministry was 
 $100 a year, and he did not need to spend all of 
 this. He lived in the saddle and in his saddle-bags, 
 and his one great book of study was the Bible. On 
 his horse, as he rode about, his sermons were pre- 
 pared and his great spiritual experiences came to 
 him. On his way to a camp-meeting on the Fin- 
 castle Circuit, in 1845, ^^ says: "There, on my 
 horse, in the road, I began to say more emphatically 
 than ever before : *I belong to God. Every fiber of 
 my being I consecrate to him. I consent to perfect 
 obedience !' " That was the way he ever strove to 
 live.
 
 William Taylor 39 
 
 It was not long before he was sent from the 
 country circuits to the city, first to Georgetown and 
 then to Baltimore. Even here he found occasions 
 when his great physical strength was an advantage 
 to him. 
 
 ''One of my class-leaders/' he said of an experi- 
 ence at Georgetown, "a man of great physical pro- 
 portions and power, teased me for a tussle. I said, 
 'Oh, my dear brother, I don't want a reputation of 
 that sort,' and put him off a number of times; but 
 one evening wife and I accepted an invitation to 
 tea at Brother Wardel's, on Bridge Street, and as 
 we sat conversing with the family and a few guests, 
 in came my big class-leader, and as I shook hands 
 with him he said, 'Brother Taylor, I have come to 
 throw you down,' and with that, pinning both my 
 arms in his embrace, he made a heave against me 
 and threw me down in the presence of the company. 
 I got up and said, 'Well, my dear brother, if nothing 
 else will satisfy 370ur curiosity you may take your 
 hold and give me mine, and we will see how the 
 game wdll go.' So, in the best temper possible, we 
 each got our grip ; I embraced him kindly, and with 
 my right wrist in the grasp of my left hand, and 
 my right fist clenched and set in the small of his 
 back, with a sudden heave from the shoulders and a 
 jerk of the hand-grip I sent him on a straight tum- 
 ble, measuring his whole length on the floor, while I
 
 40 Servants of the King 
 
 kept my feet and in a second stood erect. I did not 
 utter a word, but went and sat down by my wife. 
 The brother arose quietly and, without a word, took 
 his seat. He was a grand and good man, but inno- 
 cently playful. I knew him intimately for many 
 years afterward, and there never was a discordant 
 note struck in our mutual friendship; but I never 
 alluded to our trial of strength in his presence." 
 
 While in Baltimore, Bishop Waugh asked him to 
 go to California to found a mission there, where 
 the discovery of gold was drawing many pioneers. 
 Years later Taylor wrote of this : 'T replied, 'Well, 
 Bishop Waugh, I can only say, w^hen I was ad- 
 mitted into the Conference the question was put to 
 each member of our class, "Are you willing to be 
 appointed to foreign missionary work in case your 
 services shall be needed in foreign fields?" Most of 
 the class put in qualifying words and conditions, 
 and some said emphatically ''No !" but I said "Yes." 
 I had not thought of such a possibility, and had 
 no thought of offering myself for that or any other 
 specified work, but I was called to preach the gospel 
 by the Holy Spirit, under the old commission, "Go 
 ye into all the world and preach the gospel to every 
 creature," and I suppose that includes California. I 
 never volunteered for any field or asked for an ap- 
 pointment to any particular place, but have always 
 been ready and am now to accept, as a "regular in
 
 William Taylor 41 
 
 the service," an appointment under the appointing 
 authority of our Church to any place covered by the 
 great commission. It is not for me to say that I 
 am the man suitable for California, but leaving my- 
 self entirely at God's disposal, giving you wisdom to 
 express his will concerning me, I will cheerfully 
 accept your decision and abide by it.' " 
 
 He went home and consulted his wife, and in 
 1849 they sailed for California, via Cape Horn, tak- 
 ing with him a chapel 24x36 feet all ready to be put 
 together. Everything was costly in those days. 
 Rent for a shanty was $500 a month. So William 
 Taylor went into the woods, cut down timber, 
 hauled it, and built a house and made his work self- 
 supporting almost from the start. He preached on 
 the streets of San Francisco, visited the hospitals, 
 worked with sailors, miners, and merchants, and 
 dealt with tact and love with all classes of the raw 
 and variegated society of the new city. 
 
 After seven years in California, Taylor returned 
 to the East and preached over the Eastern States and 
 Canada. Nothing ever daunted him. "I think I 
 could count on my fingers," he said, "the times I 
 failed through a period of fifty years to keep my 
 appointments, and they were on account of snow- 
 drifts and floods well known to the people." He had 
 what one called ''the locomotive habit." ''He must 
 go and go," said Ridpath. "Of course, while he
 
 42 Servants of the King 
 
 was speaking the demands of his nervous nature 
 were satisfied with that kind of expenditure. But I 
 think he could neither sit nor stand nor pose. We 
 have in physical nature w^hat is called the unstable 
 equiHbrium. This William Taylor had in his inner 
 man. I do not mean to compare this venerable 
 apostle of the nineteenth century with the eldest of 
 Jacob's sons. The instability in the case of the 
 bishop relates only to the excess and vehemence of 
 his nervous forces, demanding action, action, action." 
 
 He had a w^onderful energy of speech, and his 
 preaching was just direct personal conversation 
 fitted to the exact circumstances, and his ceaseless 
 aim was to save souls. 
 
 In February, 1862, he w^as preaching in Peter- 
 boro, Canada, and was the guest of a gentleman 
 who had been in Australia, and who told him of the 
 conditions there. He went out into the forest, 
 kneeled down in the snow, and asked God whether 
 he ought to go to Australia. He was convinced 
 that he ought. His family returned to California, 
 and he sailed August i, 1862, for Liverpool on his 
 way. For seven months he worked as an evangelist 
 in Great Britain and Ireland and then went on to 
 the Holy Land. There his long patriarchal beard 
 secured him reverential treatment from the Ori- 
 entals, including the Moslems, as he traveled over 
 the land and visited the holy places. In Australia
 
 William Taylor 43 
 
 he carried on evangelistic campaigns for three years, 
 conducting great revivals. "The three annual ses- 
 sions of the Australian Conference/* wrote Taylor 
 long afterward, *'held during the period of my labors 
 within its bounds, covering a period of nearly three 
 years, reported a net increase in their churches of 
 over eleven thousand members." 
 
 From AustraHa Taylor planned to go on to India, 
 and sent for his family. The mother and three sons 
 came to Sydney, and Taylor was summoned there 
 from Melbourne by the news that the oldest of the 
 boys was very sick of fever. 
 
 "The steamer from Melbourne to Sydney was 
 packed from stem to stern with a crowd of fast 
 men who were on their way to a shooting-match. 
 They spent their evenings largely around the dining- 
 table, playing cards, smoking cigars, drinking 
 brandy, and cracking jokes. So my book on holi- 
 ness, which has had a circulation of about thirty 
 thousand copies, was mainly written in the midst 
 of that crowd by the same light in which they were 
 playing cards, with oaths from the unlucky losers. 
 
 "I had not seen my family for over four years. 
 I kissed my wife and wept. Ross had grown out of 
 my knowledge ; I took him into my arms and kissed 
 him and said, 'Ross, do you know me?' He said 
 *Yes, papa.' 'How did you come to know me?' 
 *My mother told me it was you.' So he received
 
 44 Servants of the King 
 
 me by faith, based on his mother's testimony. Then 
 Edward, who was only two years old when I left 
 him, came in. I took him into my arms and kissed 
 him and said, 'Do you remember me?' 'Yes, papa.* 
 'How did you come to know me ?' 'Oh, I remember 
 you very well' He probably remembered me by 
 my photo, with which he was familiar. Our poor 
 son Stuart was suspended in a doubtful scale be- 
 tween life and death. Dr. Moffitt, an eminent phy- 
 sician, in consultation with another, was doing the 
 best he could. Ross, Edward, and I went into a 
 retired place in the suburbs of the city and had a 
 prayer-meeting for their brother. I prayed with all 
 the earnestness of a broken heart; Ross prayed and 
 Edward prayed, and the three of us wept together. 
 Soon Stuart began to show signs of recovery. We 
 were then on the eve of the hot season in Australia." 
 
 So the doctor advised their going to South Africa, 
 and thither they went. 
 
 In South Africa, Taylor preached to English, 
 Dutch, and natives, to the Dutch and natives through 
 interpreters, but apparently with no less power on 
 that account, although he had difficulty in getting 
 interpreters who would speak as naturally and di- 
 rectly as he always did and urged that others should 
 do. Most of his time he spent among the Kaffirs, 
 conducting revivals and organizing the work. He 
 regarded it as a military campaign, and appealed to
 
 William Taylor 45 
 
 men to throw themselves into work for Christ as 
 into a great war. "Such a work would wake the 
 heroic elements of man's nature. How they are 
 brought out by the tocsin of war ! Within the last 
 five years nearly a million of men have laid down 
 their lives on the altar of patriotism. A low type 
 of Christianity that does not enlist and employ the 
 whole man sinks down to a formal secondary thing 
 with him, and the active elements of his nature are 
 carried off into other channels of enterprise. The 
 heroic power of man's nature, enlisted and sanctified 
 by the Holy Spirit, is essentially the old martyr 
 spirit which kept the gospel chariot moving in the 
 olden times. What had Garibaldi ever to offer to 
 his soldiers? But did he ever call in vain for an 
 army of heroes ready to do or die ? He knew how 
 to arouse the heroic element of men's hearts. 
 
 "Every passion and power of the human mind 
 and heart should be sanctified by the Holy Spirit 
 to the purposes for which they were designed. 
 There is no field of enterprise to which the heroic 
 element of our nature is better adapted or more 
 needed than the great battle-field for souls, enlisting 
 all the powers of hell on the one side and all the 
 powers of heaven on the other. What a heroic 
 record the Gospels give of the labors, sufferings, 
 death, and resurrection of the Captain of our sal- 
 vation and the noble army of martyrs trained under
 
 46 Servants of the King 
 
 his personal ministry! Give these gospel methods 
 of aggression a fair trial in southern Africa.'* 
 
 In 1866 Taylor went with his family to England. 
 Here, as in all his work, he believed in and prac- 
 tised self-support. At Tunbridge Wells a gentle- 
 man handed him a check for a hundred pounds as 
 a present. 
 
 *1 thanked him for his kindness," writes Taylor 
 in his Story of My Life, ''but informed him it was 
 a principle with me not to receive presents from 
 anybody, and passed it back to him. He stood silent 
 for a few moments in apparent surprise ; he had not 
 been accustomed to meet men of that sort. 
 
 " 'But you sell books, do you not ?' said he. 
 
 " 'Yes, I have two methods of extending the 
 kingdom of Christ among men, the pulpit and the 
 press. I depend on the press, by means of my 
 books, to pay a big church indebtedness, support my 
 family, and meet all my traveling expenses, all on 
 the principle of business equivalents, and decline to 
 receive gifts.' 
 
 " 'Well,' said he, 'will you give me an open order 
 on your binder for all the books I want to buy?' 
 
 "'Yes, sir; that is business on my line.' 
 
 *'He was the only man who got a chance to help 
 me found the self-supporting churches in India, out 
 of which four Annual Conferences are being de- 
 veloped. I never asked him for anything, never
 
 William Taylor 47 
 
 hinted to him that I was in need of money, but in 
 assisting to build houses of worship for our Indian 
 churches, I seldom ever felt the pressure of need that 
 I did not receive a check from Brother Reed on 
 book account." 
 
 In a few months Mrs. Taylor and the younger 
 children returned to San Francisco, and Mr. Taylor 
 went to the West Indies. The whole world was 
 indeed his parish. He visited and preached in Bar- 
 bados and British Guiana, in Trinidad, Jamaica, and 
 other islands. At Georgetown, Demerara, he found 
 the District Conference assembled and in a snarl. 
 One of the revivals which he stirred wherever he 
 went lifted the conference beyond its controversy, but 
 one brother kept reviving it. "So I said to him," 
 wTites Taylor, * 'Brother Greathead, I want to tell 
 you a story," and he said "All right." 
 
 "I have heard of a man who killed an opossum. 
 He killed it dead and dug a hole in the ground and 
 buried it. A neighbor saw him go every few days 
 for a fortnight and dig up the opossum and give 
 him another mauling. He said, 'What do you mean 
 by digging up that opossum? You killed him dead 
 the first time. You keep digging him up and beat- 
 ing him ; what do you mean ?' Said he, *I want to 
 mellow him.' 
 
 "I said, 'Now, Brother Greathead, we killed and
 
 48 Servants of the King 
 
 buried an old opossum last Sunday, and we must 
 let him sleep.' " 
 
 His next work was in Australia and Tasmania 
 again, after a short trip to Europe in 1869 and 
 1870, and then he began his campaign in India, 
 landing in Bombay on November 20, 1870, and 
 going up straightway to the great Methodist center 
 of work at Lucknow. He began at once to work 
 for the Eurasians, the people of mixed European 
 and Indian blood, who constituted a large class in 
 India and for whom little had been done. He urged 
 that their souls were as precious as any, and that 
 there was a great deal of strength among them which 
 should be in use in the evangelization of India. He 
 worked also among Parsees, Hindus, and Moham- 
 medans, and his message laid hold of them. Some 
 Afghan Moslem soldiers at one meeting declared, 
 "This preaching is all true. It has loosened a knot 
 in our hearts, and we are untying it." But the great 
 work was for the Eurasian people, and his idea was 
 to build up self-supporting churches. "We are not 
 opposed," he wrote, "to missionary societies, or to 
 the appropriation of missionary funds to any and 
 all missions which may require them. Our ground 
 on this point is simply this : There are resources in 
 India, men and money, sufficient to run at least one 
 great mission. If they can be rescued from worldly 
 waste and utilized for the soul-saving work of God,
 
 William Taylor 49 
 
 why not do it? All admit that self-support is, or 
 should be, the earnest aim of every mission. If a 
 work in India, the same as in England or America, 
 can start on this healthy, sound principle, is it not 
 better than a long, sickly, dependent pupilage, which 
 in too many instances amounts to pauperism ? I am 
 not speaking of missionaries, but of mission churches. 
 We simply wish to stand on the same platform ex- 
 actly as our churches in America, which began poor 
 and worked their way up by their own industry and 
 liberality, without funds from the Missionary So- 
 ciety. The opening pioneer mission work in any 
 country may require, and in most cases has required 
 and does require, some independent resources which 
 the pioneer missionary brings to his new work be- 
 fore he can develop it or make it self-supporting. 
 Thus St. Paul depended on his skill as a tent-maker, 
 and missionaries ordinarily have to depend on mis- 
 sion funds. Ten times the amount of all the money 
 now raised for mission purposes would not be ade- 
 quate to send one missionary for each hundred thou- 
 sand of heathens now accessible." 
 
 The work in India grew greatly under his tire- 
 less, restless activity, and he became superintendent 
 of the churches which were established on the in- 
 dependent basis in which he believed. Long before 
 his death, however, the work in India and elsewhere 
 which he had founded passed into connection with
 
 50 Servants of the King 
 
 the regular machinery of the Church. His work 
 was to give the great initial impulse. 
 
 From India he returned in 1877 to the United 
 States, and sailed that fall for South America. *'I 
 did not wish our friends to see us off," said he, "and 
 they didn't come. I always prefer to come in and 
 go out as quietly as possible; indeed, coming and 
 going all the time, as I have been doing more than 
 a quarter of a century, my friends could not an- 
 ticipate my changes. 
 
 "On the eve of one of my departures from London 
 to Australia a gentleman said, 'Mr. Taylor, what is 
 your address now ?' 
 
 " 'I am sojourning on the globe, at present, but 
 don't know how soon I shall be leaving.' " 
 
 His funds were low, and he went third-class. 
 "I believed," he said, "that my dignity would keep 
 for eighteen days in the steerage." On the West 
 Coast he found many foreign communities which 
 were willing to promise support to teachers from the 
 United States if Mr. Taylor would furnish them. 
 He saw his opportunity in this, and returned to find 
 the twelve men and six women he wanted. He sent 
 them out to support themselves and do such mis- 
 sionary work as they could in Chile, Peru, Ecuador, 
 Panama, Costa Rica, Nicaragua, and Brazil. 
 Many of them met with great difficulties and re- 
 turned home. In some cases useful and influential
 
 Pioneer 
 
 WoTKin 
 
 iain in 1875-77 
 =" - ■°7atjl896wltenf|C!ta£Sad 
 SanFran- MlssionaTyJourneys;"' 
 California ['Nv_c.sco Beiun at Balti 
 
 •• \N^» TwbtTourstqVX t'so; "Tfe 
 
 Missi^onary Address- 
 and Revival Services 
 „ ? Chuiches and Asie'mblies 
 V\ in the HOME JFIELO 
 ^50. ^^ith ManyJoijiTneYS 
 ^^t irou4>iout theU N ITED- 
 
 MISSIONARY JOURNEYS 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM TAYLOR 
 
 1849-1897 
 
 CKMORSAW
 
 William Taylor 51 
 
 schools were established which abide. The whole 
 work is now under the regular care of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church through its bishops and missionary 
 society. The plan of self-support is often prac- 
 ticable, and there must be room for such free and 
 independent workers, but, as in the case of William 
 Taylor's missions, the loss and waste would be much 
 greater than it has been, if there were not permanent 
 missionary organizations which believe in self-sup- 
 port as earnestly as Taylor did, but which believe, 
 also, in the value of organized and sustained effort. 
 The mistake which Bishop Taylor made was in ex- 
 pecting the native Church to support, not only its 
 native workers, but also the foreign missionaries. 
 
 In 1884 the old rugged warrior, now grown gray, 
 was made Missionary Bishop of Africa. "I was 
 not a candidate for any office in the gift of that 
 venerable body," said Taylor, in discussing his 
 election. ^'Subsequently, when nominated for the 
 missionary episcopate of Africa, I hurriedly inquired 
 of a number of the leading members of that body 
 whether or not that meant any interference with 
 my self-supporting mission work; if so, I should 
 certainly refuse to have the nomination submitted. 
 They assured me that the General Conference had no 
 such design, but just the opposite; that they wanted 
 me to introduce self-supporting methods into Africa ;
 
 52 Servants of the King 
 
 and that fact was compressed into the short sentence 
 of Turn him loose in Africa.' " 
 
 He went out with a company of over forty men, 
 women, and children. At St. Paul de Loanda one 
 died, and eight or ten more, sick or discouraged, 
 returned home. The remainder settled in Angola. 
 Leaving his first company there, Taylor returned to 
 Europe, saw the King of Portugal, in whose terri- 
 tory he had begun his new work, and the King of 
 Belgium, the head of the Congo Free State, in which 
 the second chain of stations was soon begun, to be 
 followed by an enlarged work in Liberia. The great 
 service which he performed for Africa was in lifting 
 his Church out of the narrow limits of Liberia and 
 committing it to a continental task. For twelve 
 years Bishop Taylor worked in Africa, and then in 
 1896 was retired from active duty. The old man 
 accepted his retirement like a soldier, and issued a 
 note in which he said : 
 
 ''Many of my friends think and declare that the 
 action of the General Conference which kindly put 
 my name on the honorable list of retired heroes, such 
 as Bishop Bowman and Bishop Foster, was a mis- 
 take. No such thought ever got a night's lodging 
 in my head or heart. I have for fifty-four years 
 received my ministerial appointments from God. If 
 any mistakes were made, through the intervention of 
 human agency, they did not fall on me. For the
 
 William Taylor 53 
 
 last twelve years God has used me in Africa as 
 leader of a heroic host of pioneer missionaries in 
 opening vast regions of heathendom to direct gospel 
 achievement, which will go on 'conquering and to 
 conquer' till the coming of the King, if no bishop 
 should visit them for half a century, but the General 
 Conference has appointed as my episcopal successor 
 a tried man of marvelous adaptability. 
 
 ^'Bequests and deeds to mission property are made 
 to Bishop William Taylor or to his 'living successor/ 
 Bishop J. C. Hartzell is now my living successor/ 
 If he should die, or superannuate, then the episcopos 
 appointed by the General Conference to take his 
 place at the front would be my 'living successor/ 
 I bespeak for Bishop Hartzell, on behalf of my 
 work and faithful workers at the front, all the lov- 
 ing sympathy and financial cooperation of all my 
 beloved patrons and partners in this great work of 
 God. 'And you are going to lie on the shelf?' I 
 am not a candidate for 'the shelf.' I am accustomed 
 to sleep in the open sparkling of the stars, and re- 
 spond to the bugle blast of early morn. 
 
 "At present 
 
 God calls me from mudsill preparation — 
 
 John the Baptist dispensation — 
 To proclaim more widely the Pauline story 
 
 Of our coming Lord and of his glory. 
 
 "Under this call of God I expect to lead thousands
 
 54 Servants of the King 
 
 of Kaffirs into his fold. In an evangehzing cam- 
 paign of a few years through southern and eastern 
 Africa I will, D. V., strike the warpath of the grand 
 heroic leader of our Inhambane and South Zambezi 
 missions — Rev. E. H. Richards. I will, D. V., go 
 directly from New York to Cape Town, South 
 Africa." 
 
 And thither he went, and during fourteen months 
 of further labors, until his voice failed, won many 
 more converts to Christ. 
 
 On May i8, 1902, at Palo Alto, Cal., the old 
 missionary, who had preached on every continent 
 and founded churches in many lands, finished his 
 w^ork. He was one who had ideas of his own and 
 whose w^ork other men have had to carry forward on 
 other plans. But he wrought with mighty power 
 and unafraid of all that might oppose. He was one 
 
 "Who never turned his back, but marched breast-forward, 
 
 Never doubted clouds would break, 
 Never dreamed tho' right were worsted, wrong would triumph, 
 Held we fall to rise, are baffled to fight better, 
 Sleep to wake."
 
 ALICE JACKSON 
 
 55
 
 Father, make us pure and holy, 
 
 Father, make us good; 
 Show us how to love each other 
 
 As we should. 
 
 — AHce Jackson 
 
 S6
 
 IaO'UC.^C. yC^-<>'^^.yUrt-^..^
 
 IV 
 
 ALICE JACKSON 
 
 ALICE JACKSON was bom at Styal,Cheshire,Eng- 
 land, on December 19, 1876. Her father, Stan- 
 way Jackson, was an ardent Liberal in politics, an effec- 
 tive party worker, and a powerful platform speaker. 
 He had a keen interest, which Alice inherited, in all 
 movements of social progress, and his interest, as 
 hers, sought expression in practical helpfulness. He 
 was a member of the Church, superintendent of the 
 Sunday-school, teacher of a men's Bible class, and 
 leader of a children's service. On her mother's side, 
 Alice was descended from a long line of Congrega- 
 tional ministers, and from both sides of the family 
 inherited her interest in foreign missions. Alice 
 was brought up by her mother and father, the latter 
 of whom died when she was nearly thirteen, with 
 the idea that work in the church and for the com- 
 munity was a matter of course. 
 
 Iti October, 1884, the family came to America and 
 made its home at Englewood, N. J., where Alice 
 lived until she went away to Smith College in the 
 
 57
 
 158 Servants of the King 
 
 fall of 1894. She was, like many children, shy and 
 diffident, and often shrank from meeting people. In 
 her simple unselfishness she would think she was not 
 wanted in one or another company, and would re- 
 tire, accordingly, into the background. She had an 
 intense reticence of character, which always made 
 it hard and therefore all the more im.pressive for her 
 to speak of the deepest things. She was not a very 
 strong child, and this brought the temptation of irri- 
 tability, and one of her first battles was the battle 
 which she victoriously won for self-control. When 
 the shadow of a great limitation fell in later years 
 and she sufifered much, even her closest friends 
 would not have known it from any outward betrayal, 
 and she had learned this lesson of complete self-mas- 
 tery as a child. 
 
 Her childhood, as all her later life, was filled with 
 joyous good humor and playfulness of spirit. She 
 had a great desire to hear funny things to make her 
 laugh. As a child she would say, "Tell me some- 
 thing funny. I like to laugh." And in later years 
 she always saw the ludicrous side of things, and no 
 one who ever heard can forget the silvery ripple of 
 that laughter which lightened all her talk. She was 
 very fond in these early years of big words and of 
 pets and of all living things. She informed an older 
 sister one day that she knew a certain person was 
 engaged to be married, for she saw her wear a dia-
 
 Alice Jackson 59 
 
 mond ring, and "so my superstitions were imme- 
 diately enlarged." 
 
 She was not a robust child. How serious her 
 physical limitations were few ever discovered, ex- 
 cept when she was suffering from the disease which 
 ended her life. She appeared to w^ork with exhaust- 
 less energy. During her college course, in spite of 
 her childhood's delicate health, she w^as exceptionally 
 proficient in athletic games. That w^as in part due 
 to her nervous energy and in part to her indomitable 
 purpose. What she made up her mind to do she did, 
 and nothing could change any purpose she had dis- 
 tinctly formed. She would readily give up any wish 
 of hers for the sake of another, but she would not 
 be swerved from her own conviction one hair's 
 breadth. Characteristic of this unswerving purpose 
 was her determination as a child to learn her home 
 lessons in the family sitting-room, where all the 
 older members gathered after dinner to chat. She 
 could not be persuaded to go into a quiet room apart. 
 She liked company, and she liked even then to prove 
 to herself that she could so concentrate her attention 
 as not to hear what was going on around her. Per- 
 haps to this self-planned discipline of mind may be 
 due much of her later power to accomplish work at 
 all times and in all surroundings. After completing 
 her preparation at the Dwight School in Englewood, 
 Alice entered Smith College in the fall of 1894.
 
 6o Servants of the King 
 
 There she was given the nickname of Ajax. One 
 of her classmates wrote in the Smith College Monthly 
 for January, 1907, of what AUce was and did in 
 college : 
 
 "Unusually versatile, Alice Jackson entered into 
 almost every phase of our college life, and whatever 
 she touched became beautiful in her doing of it. 
 Whether in work or in play, she reached out always 
 for the underlying ideal, unconscious of herself save 
 as an instrument of service. A member of the bas- 
 ket-ball team, she played a wonderful game, swiftly, 
 quietly, efficiently, and fairly, always in the helpful 
 place, never grasping an opportunity for individual 
 glory at the expense of the team work. She grasped 
 the ethics of the game and never even knew there 
 was a selfish side. At the close of our official sopho- 
 more game, as we, crushed, tragic children, were 
 trying to grip the fact bravely that for the first time 
 in our college history the game had gone officially to 
 the freshmen, it was our Ajax who found for us the 
 key to the situation, *It's :fine for the freshmen.' 
 
 "So in the college honors which, as a matter of 
 course, came to her lot, in Alpha, Biological Society, 
 •Colloquium, editor of the Monthly, and as a member 
 of other organizations, religious, social, and intellec- 
 tual, she regarded her election not as a cause for self- 
 congratulation, not as a tribute to her own abilities, 
 but simply as an opportunity for further usefulness.
 
 Alice Jackson 6i 
 
 It was in this spirit that she entered into the Shake- 
 speare prize essay contest, not with the desire of win- 
 ning the prize for herself, but in order to fill out the 
 necessary number of competitors. When word came 
 to her that the prize had been awarded to her essay, 
 she received the news with a burst of grief and dis- 
 appointment. *I thought C. would get the prize! 
 She worked so hard.' '' 
 
 Perhaps she grasped the class spirit so quickly be- 
 cause she was one of a large family of children who 
 had always ''done things together." Her idea of 
 work had always been ''team work," and a little 
 home incident illustrates this. An elder sister was 
 to be married, and the children, wishing to make the 
 wedding gift their very own, planned to pick black- 
 berries, sell them to their mother, and buy the pres- 
 ent with their earnings. When the contents of the 
 baskets were measured, Alice's proved to hold twice 
 as much as either of the others, and so four teacups 
 were bought instead of three; but the four, she in- 
 sisted, should be given "from us all three together." 
 
 The Christian life, which had always been the 
 dominant thing in her, came to full development in 
 college. And as college closed, the thoughts of child- 
 hood ripened to large missionary purposes. In a 
 letter written three years later she described the 
 growth of her Christian experience and desire for 
 Christian service :
 
 62 Servants of the King 
 
 ''I do not think that my Christian experience has 
 differed very much from that of most children of 
 God-fearing parents. My father and mother loved 
 God and trusted absolutely in him, and I grew up 
 to love him, too, and to see, at first through them 
 and then for myself, how he is indeed the lov- 
 ing, heavenly Father, who is always ready to help 
 and strengthen his children, to bring comfort in 
 sorrow, strength in the time of trial, to give power 
 to overcome all temptations, and to sanctify and 
 purify and beautify all life. 
 
 "During my senior year at college I was asked 
 to serve as the chairman of our class prayer-meet- 
 ing committee, and I think that at that time, in plan- 
 ning the work and in prayer for a deeper spiritual 
 life in the college, I came closer to God than ever 
 before. It seems strange that just after graduating 
 from college, doubts as to whether there really was 
 a God should arise. It seemed for the moment that 
 the whole story of the Christ and of the Father 
 might be a most beautiful legend, and one which I 
 longed to believe, but had no right to do so unless 
 I really knew it to be true. I determined to pray to 
 God just the same, trusting that if there really was a 
 God he would answer my prayer and give me a 
 clearer vision of himself, and soon the doubts and 
 troubles cleared away. 
 
 "Since that time Christ has seemed nearer and
 
 Alice Jackson 63 
 
 more real than ever before, and I know and feel that 
 he is indeed the truest and dearest of friends, who is 
 always near and ready to help and to sympathize. I 
 think that I long now with an ever-deepening desire 
 to do God's will and to live as Christ did, a life of 
 loving, unselfish service. 
 
 *'Ever since a small child I have always longed to 
 go and live among the poor and unhappy. At first 
 not from any idea of doing missionary work, but 
 simply because my own life had had so much happi- 
 ness in it that I could not bear to think of any one 
 else being unhappy. I wanted to share my joy with 
 them. 
 
 "I always had a great admiration for missionaries, 
 but their lives seemed to me to be so set apart, so 
 far above my life or anything that I could ever be- 
 come, that I never thought that I myself might one 
 day be a missionary. It was not until the summer 
 of 1898, when I was asked if I was not willing to 
 go abroad as a missionary, that the possibility of 
 really being able to do so came to me with any force. 
 At Northfield, that same summer, I was taught that 
 God can use our lives, and, working through us, can 
 teach us how to bring others into his kingdom. Since 
 that time I have longed to be a missionary, that I 
 may not only share the joy that has come into my 
 life with others, but that I may tell them of the love
 
 64 Servants of the King 
 
 of God, believing that through him they may be 
 brought into hves of happiness and usefulness." 
 
 But before she offered herself for missionary ser- 
 vice, she turned to the opportunities and responsibili- 
 ties near at hand which called to her, and which of- 
 fered the best preparation for the work to which she 
 looked forward. And, as it turned out, she never 
 went abroad and her life-work was as a missionary 
 at home. She took up work in the New York School 
 of Pedagogy, teaching at the same time, first in 
 Brooklyn and then in Miss Audubon's school in 
 New York, and working as a volunteer worker in 
 the Christodora House. The following two years, 
 1 899- 1 90 1, she was secretary of the Girls' Club at 
 Greenfield, Mass. It was at this time that she of- 
 fered herself for work in China. 
 
 "About China," she wrote, "1 do long to go there 
 more deeply than to any other place, and especially 
 in the interior or to northern China. Mother wTote me 
 the other day that I could not go to China next year. 
 I think that the only reason is the danger, and I feel 
 that when I can talk to her myself about it she may 
 be willing to let me go in the autumn. At the same 
 time, though my greatest desire is centered in China, 
 I want to go wherever my life is going to be the most 
 useful, and I don't want to let any personal desires 
 come in. So, if it is really not best for me to go 
 there, it will be a great joy to go to some other coun-
 
 Alice Jackson 65 
 
 try. I really do want to go or to stay, whichever is 
 best, only I cannot help hoping that I may be fitted 
 for a life abroad. As I have written you, I long to 
 go as soon as possible (if I shall prove to be fitted for 
 such work), but I do want to have the best prepara- 
 tion and so be really useful." 
 
 The mission board's medical adviser declined to 
 approve Alice's appointment, and informed the 
 board and told her that probably she could never go 
 to the mission field. He discovered that she was suf- 
 fering from an ailment (diabetes) from which she 
 could not hope to recover. She refused to be daunted, 
 however, and, though she left the Girls' Club at 
 Greenfield, went steadfastly on in her work at home, 
 at the same time that she sought to carry out faith- 
 fully all the advice of the physician, whom, as with all 
 whom she ever met, she made her fast friend. Noth- 
 ing could disturb her serene and joyful confidence 
 that if it was God's will she would get to China. 
 
 The summer of 1901 she spent at the Christodora 
 House in New York City, a Christian social settle- 
 ment on Avenue B, near Tenth Street. She had 
 worked there before, and always went back when 
 she could. She founded the Mothers' Club, begin- 
 ning by asking the mothers of some of the children in 
 the clubs to come and drink coffee and sing German 
 songs once a week at the House. The club from its 
 beginning of six German women, who met to talk
 
 66 Servants of the King 
 
 over their children and to sew, is now going on with 
 a membership of thirty. She had clubs for girls, the 
 "Loyalty" and the "Steadfast," and also a club for 
 boys, which bore the name of "The Young Patriots' 
 Club." She regularly taught the boys politeness, and 
 greatly enjoyed the fact that the secretary of her 
 "Young Patriots' Club" solemnly announced to an 
 assembled audience at Cooper Union that the boys 
 had spent the year in the study of "history, manners, 
 and other relics." She wrote a little song for the 
 children which became a great favorite : 
 
 A PRAYER 
 
 Father, hear thy little children 
 
 As to thee we pray, 
 Asking for thy loving blessing 
 
 On this day. 
 
 Father, make us pure and holy; 
 
 Father, make us good. 
 Show us how to love each other 
 
 As we should. 
 
 Through the day, O loving Savior, 
 
 Alay we grow like thee, 
 In the beauty all about us 
 
 Thy reflection see. 
 
 When at length the evening cometh 
 
 And we fall asleep, 
 In thy arms of love, thy children 
 
 Safely keep. 
 
 Father, hear thy little children 
 
 While to thee we pray, 
 Asking for thy loving guidance 
 
 All this day.
 
 Alice Jackson 67 
 
 The little children still sing the song every Sun- 
 day afternoon. 
 
 In the fall of 1902 Alice went back to Northamp- 
 ton, Massachusetts, to become secretary of the Smith 
 College Association for Christian Work, and re- 
 mained till the summer of 1904. No years could 
 be filled more full of rich and loving service than 
 Alice Jackson filled these two years at Smith. What 
 she had regarded as her limitations in childhood — 
 her sensitiveness and her reserve — had developed 
 into the very sources of her power. She was able 
 to win every one, and there was no one whom she 
 was not seeking to help and no work which she was 
 not eager to do. 
 
 No girls were left out of Alice's thought and plan- 
 ning, and she sought especially, and with the most 
 tactful sympathy, to help the Roman Catholic 
 girls. In this she had the cordial help of Father 
 Gallen of the Catholic church in Florence, a village 
 near Northampton. Father Gallen has kindly writ- 
 ten, with warm Christian sympathy, of his impres- 
 sions of her and his estimate of her work : 
 
 'Trom my knowledge of the splendid results that 
 followed years of self-sacrificing labor I am con- 
 vinced that the Christian workers of Smith College 
 found the leader they needed so much in the person 
 of Miss Alice Jackson. She enabled them to direct 
 their best energies with good results in a spiritual
 
 68 Servants of the King 
 
 way to themselves and others. All the churches ben- 
 efited by her work, and especially my own. She sent 
 me teachers for the Sunday-school — faithful, self- 
 denying college girls. The distance from the col- 
 lege to my church is two miles, and some of these 
 girls, because of our early services on Sunday, were 
 forced to leave their houses before the breakfast hour 
 and to fast until noon. 
 
 "I have always felt that Alice Jackson had splen- 
 did natural powers for Christian work. She was 
 most gentle, yet persistent, in pursuing her object. 
 In voice and manner there was a sympathetic quality 
 so winning as to be irresistible. There seemed to be 
 a perfect consonance between her charming person- 
 ality and the beautiful teachings of the Master she 
 served and loved so well. However, I like to think 
 that her great success in her life-work was due to 
 the grace supernatural bestowed by a loving Father 
 in the light of whose presence I trust she may ever 
 dwell." 
 
 In the fall of 1904 Alice went to Ludlow, Massa- 
 chusetts, as secretary of the Welfare Work of the 
 Manufacturing Associates. The factories made 
 coarse textiles and employed 2,000 people, mostly 
 unskilled foreign labor and largely women and chil- 
 dren. The company had built and owned most of 
 the village, streets, also the water and electric light 
 service. They had some 300 houses, mostly single
 
 Alice Jackson 69 
 
 cottages with small grounds about them. The town 
 authorities manage the schools, which contained over 
 600 children; but no instruction was given in cook- 
 ing or sewing. During the year 1904-5 Alice took 
 charge of the work for the women and children. 
 
 All the while she was fighting her battle for 
 health, and even for life, but with a smile so cheerful 
 and an enthusiasm for others' interests so genuine 
 that no one but her doctor and a few of her closest 
 friends knew of the struggle that was going on. 
 
 In the fall of 1905 she returned to New York to 
 be under the doctor's closer care, but all the while to 
 be busily at work as industrial secretary for the New 
 York City Young Women's Christian Association. 
 The work was among the girls in the factories in 
 New York City and was carried on under the super- 
 vision of a little committee, but Alice was left free 
 to develop the work in accordance with her own 
 ideas, the aim being to improve the condition of the 
 girls, but more especially to improve the girls them- 
 selves by winning them to the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 During the year she taught on Sundays a class in 
 Sunday-school, and, of course, kept in close touch 
 with the work at Christodora House. She had 
 assisted Miss Grace H. Dodge in the summer 
 work of the vacation circles and so had gained an 
 additional opportunity for meeting self-supporting 
 women. ''She once remarked to me," writes one of
 
 70 Servants of the King 
 
 her sisters, "that there was only one shop in New 
 York in which she did not know some of the sales- 
 women, and on going there was immediately ad- 
 dressed as a friend by one of them." 
 
 The summer of 1906 Alice spent in good part at 
 home in Englewood, where she found special ways 
 of giving loving help to friends in need. And in the 
 autumn she went, with the doctor's consent, to 
 Wellesley, Massachusetts, to teach the Bible and to 
 work among the girls in Miss Cooke's School, Dana 
 Hall. 
 
 In December what the doctor had long appre- 
 hended came. The disease which she had coura- 
 geously fought, to which she had never for one mo- 
 ment surrendered, closed in inexorably. Her one 
 thought, as always, was of others. * 'Don't let mother 
 know I have any pain," was her entreaty. "Don't 
 let mother be sad." Her suffering was not for many 
 days, and on December 13 she entered into the great 
 light for which she had longed and saw in his 
 beauty the King she had ever loved and served. 
 
 So she passed on, leaving behind her a trail of 
 glorious service. The Wednesday after her death 
 would have been her birthday. It was her birthday, 
 only not here, but in a far fairer country. There, 
 beyond all the pain and limitation against which she 
 strove bravely, she began the blessed service of eter- 
 nity, fitted for it by the purity and unselfishness of
 
 Alice Jackson 71 
 
 the life which Christ had lived in her and which 
 she had described in verses which she wrote about 
 another for one Christmas Day : 
 
 "Her life was one of sweet simplicity. 
 
 Forgetting self, unconsciously each day, 
 She taught the lesson of that sweet denial, 
 
 The joy of those who on the altar lay 
 Their lives — to take them up again for others. 
 
 Who to the world deep joy and gladness bring, 
 Fulfilling by their daily lives the message 
 
 Which on the Christmas morn the angels sing."
 
 GUIDO FRIDOLIN VERBECK 
 
 ,73
 
 I prefer to work on quietly and at peace with all. . , 
 The name is nothing, the real results are all. 
 
 — Guido Fridolin Verbeck 
 
 74
 
 -^C^tu^/g:^ ^,^^^G^Z^(^^^
 
 V 
 
 GUIDO FRIDOLIN VERBECK 
 
 ON the 23d of January, 1830, at Zeist, Holland, 
 a little Dutch baby-boy was born. His full 
 name was Guido Herman Fridolin Verbeck. Sixty- 
 eight years later the little Dutch boy, grown to be 
 a man, died in Tokyo, Japan. When he died he 
 was not a Dutchman, and he was not a Japanese. 
 Indeed, he was a man without any country of his 
 own. Yet he was a Dutchman and a Japanese. And 
 he was also an American. So he had three coun- 
 tries at the same time that he had none. How 
 could such a thing be? 
 
 He was a Dutchman because he was born in 
 Holland and grew up as a boy in his father's com- 
 fortable home near Zeist. "We lived," he said, 
 "as Jacob did, in the free temple of nature, enjoy- 
 ing the garden, the fruit, the flowers, with joy, on 
 green benches between green hedges. And after 
 sunset, when the stars were sparkling, then we 
 brothers and sisters went lovingly arm in arm and 
 passed our time in garden, wood, or quiet arbor, 
 
 75
 
 76 Servants of the King 
 
 enjoying each other's happiness and God's peace. 
 The winter days we spent mostly on the ice, but 
 toward evening in the cozy twihght we gathered 
 around the warm stove, to enjoy with all our heart 
 our happiness. Then father told us many a 
 story, and we sang many good and favorite songs; 
 after lamps were lit we all engaged in reading, ate 
 apples, nuts, and pears." He had colts and rabbits 
 and poultry and peacocks for pets, and a boat for 
 the canals which ran through the place and the 
 country round about, into one of which he fell at 
 the age of two years and v/as nearly drowned. He 
 was confirmed with a brother in the IMoravian 
 church at Zeist and went to school in the Moravian 
 Institute, where he learned Dutch and French and 
 German, to which he added English at home. He 
 and his sister took pains to teach themselves a good 
 English accent. They taught their tongues to say 
 "th" by repeating "Theophilus Thistle thrust three 
 thousand thistles into the thick of his thumb." So 
 he learned to speak English as well as any English- 
 man. After graduating from the Institute at Zeist 
 he entered the Polytechnic Institute at Utrecht and 
 became an engineer. For twenty-two years the old 
 Dutch house at Zeist was his home and then he left 
 Holland. 
 
 Next he became an American. In 1852 he came 
 to Green Bay, Wisconsin, where a sister and her
 
 Guldo Fridolln Verbcck 77 
 
 husband were living, intending to work in a foundry 
 which a friend of his brother-in-law was establish- 
 ing there for the manufacture of machinery for 
 steamboats. On his way he was nearly wrecked on 
 Lake Erie. He reached Green Bay after a rough 
 journey, the last part of it by wagon and sleigh 
 over terrible roads, 6n\y to find that the opportunity 
 was disappointing. "I must see more of America," 
 he said, "and be where I can improve myself. I am 
 determined to be a good Yankee." He found em- 
 ployment at Helena, Arkansas, where he was soon 
 busy planning bridges and engineering improve- 
 ments, but the climate was unfavorable and he fell 
 ill of fever and was wasted to a skeleton. His sick- 
 ness was a turning-point with him. He promised 
 God that if he recovered he would consecrate his 
 life to service in the missionary field. As soon as 
 he could walk again he returned to Green Bay and 
 took charge of the factory there. But the purpose of 
 Christian service had been firmly fixed, and en- 
 couraged and aided by a New York City business 
 man he went to Auburn, New York, to the theologi- 
 cal seminary in 1856. Just as he finished his course 
 the call came to the seminary for an "Americanized 
 Dutchm.an" for Japan. Commodore Perry had opened 
 the long-sealed land in 1853-4. The first generous 
 treaty had been negotiated in 1858. The Japanese
 
 7^5 Servants of the King 
 
 had long been friendly to Hollanders, and were now 
 well-disposed to Americans, and Guido Verbeck had 
 clearly been prepared for this very hour. He was 
 all ready to go, and the Dutch lad, who had become 
 an American, started in 1859 as a missionary to 
 Japan. 
 
 He reached Nagasaki on November 4, 1859. His 
 vessel steamed into the bay by moonlight. "With 
 the first dawning of the day," he wrote, "1 cannot 
 describe the beauty that is before me. I have never 
 seen anything like it before in Europe or America. 
 Suppose yourself to be on the deck of a steamer with- 
 in a port as smooth as a mirror, about sixteen neat 
 vessels scattered about here and there, before you 
 that far-famed Deshima, and around it and beyond 
 an extensive city with many white-roofed and walled 
 houses, and again all around this city lofty hills 
 covered with evergreen foliage of great variety, and 
 in many places spotted by temples and houses. Let 
 the morning sun shine on this scene, and the morn- 
 ing dews gradually withdraw like a curtain and hide 
 themselves in the more elevated ravines of the sur- 
 rounding mountains, and you have a very faint pic- 
 ture of what I saw." When he landed the notice- 
 boards prohibiting the Christian religion were scat- 
 tered all over the country in city and village and by 
 the roadside. This is what was inscribed on them;
 
 Guldo Fridolln Verbeck 79 
 
 "The Christian religion has been prohibited for many years. 
 If any one is suspected, a report mubt be made at once. 
 
 REWARDS 
 
 To the informer of a hater en (father), 500 pieces of silver. 
 To the informer of an iriiman (brother), 300 pieces of silver. 
 To the informer of a Christian who once recanted, 300 pieces 
 
 of silver. 
 To the informer of a Christian or catechist, 300 pieces of 
 
 silver. 
 "The above rewards will be given. If any one will inform 
 concerning his own family, he will be rewarded with 500 
 pieces of silver, or according to the information which he 
 furnishes. If any one conceals an offender, and the fact is 
 detected, then the head man of the village in which the con- 
 cealer lives, and the *five-men company' to which he belongs, 
 and his family and relatives will all be punished together." 
 
 Natives who associated with missionaries were 
 looked upon with suspicion. 
 
 "We found the nation not at all accessible touch- 
 ing religious matters/' wrote Dr. Verbeck long years 
 afterward in speaking of these early days. ''Where 
 such a subject was mooted in the presence of the 
 Japanese, his hand would alm.ost involuntarily be 
 applied to his throat, to indicate the extreme perilous- 
 ness of such a topic." 
 
 Still God had been preparing some to hear and 
 accept the gospel. Before the policy of exclusion 
 had been abandoned, and while a British fleet was 
 in Japanese waters, the duty of guarding the coast 
 at Nagasaki had been assigned to the daimio or 
 baron of Hizen, and he delegated one of his min- 
 isters, a house officer named Murata, whose title was
 
 8o Servants of the King 
 
 Wakasa no Kami, to look after it. He was to keep 
 the foreigners from the fleet out of Japan, and also to 
 prevent Japanese from leaving the country to go 
 abroad. Murata frequently went out by night and 
 day in a boat to make sure of the success of his vari- 
 ous measures for fulfilling his duty, and on one of 
 these trips found a little book floating on the water. 
 His curiosity was aroused and he became more inter- 
 ested when he found out that it was about the 
 Creator and the Christian religion. He sent a man to 
 Shanghai and secured a translation of the book in 
 Chinese and took it home with him to Saga. He 
 was studying this book when Dr. Verbeck came to 
 Nagasaki, and hearing of the missionary he sent his 
 younger brother to get more information from him. 
 In 1866 he and his brother and his two sons and a 
 train of followers came to see Verbeck. ''Sir," said 
 he, "I cannot tell you my feelings when, for the first 
 time, I read the account of tlie character and work 
 of Jesus Christ. I had never seen, nor heard, nor 
 imagined such a person. I was filled with admira- 
 tion, overwhelmed with emotion, and taken captive 
 by the record of his nature and life.'* The conversa- 
 tion lasted for hours, and then, though the men 
 knew they were facing death in doing it, they asked 
 and received baptism, and twelve years after finding 
 the book in the water went home as Christian be- 
 lievers, the first converts of the young missionary.
 
 Guido Fridolin Verbeck 8i 
 
 Already, however, great changes were passing 
 over Japan. The old political order was over- 
 thrown and a hunger for knowledge filled the land. 
 Dr. Verbeck was asked by the government to open a 
 school for foreign languages and science in Naga- 
 saki. It was soon filled with more than one hundred 
 pupils, among whom were many future statesmen of 
 Japan, including one prime minister and the two 
 sons of Prince Iwakura. From this school he sent 
 out the first of the large company of more than 
 five hundred young Japanese who came with his 
 introduction to study in America. 
 
 In 1868 came the great political upheaval with 
 the retirement of the Shogun and the resumption 
 of active rule by the Mikado, who took an oath in 
 the presence of the nobles to establish the empire 
 on the following principles : 
 
 1. Government based on public opinion. 
 
 2. Social and political economy to be made the 
 study of all classes. 
 
 3. Mutual assistance among all for the general 
 good. 
 
 4. Reason, not tradition, to be the guide of action. 
 
 5. Wisdom and ability to be sought after in all 
 quarters of the world. 
 
 In consequence of the change, Dr. Verbeck was 
 called from Nagasaki to Tokyo to establish a school 
 for the government, and he accepted the call. This
 
 82 Servants of the King 
 
 school grew into the Imperial University. At the 
 same time, by force of his wide knowledge, his up- 
 right character, his self-obliteration, and his devotion 
 to the best interests of Japan, he became the great 
 adviser of the men who were controlling her destiny. 
 *'It impressed me mightily," says Dr. Griffis, who 
 visited him at this time, "to see what a factotum Dr. 
 Verbeck was, a servant of servants indeed, for I 
 could not help thinking how he imitated his Master. 
 I saw a prime minister of the empire, heads of de- 
 partments, and officers of various ranks, whose per- 
 sonal and official importance I sometimes did, and 
 sometimes did not, realize, coming to find out from 
 Dr. Verbeck matters of knowledge or to discuss 
 with him points and courses of action. To-day it 
 might be a plan of national education; to-morrow, 
 the engagement of foreigners to important posi- 
 tions; or the despatch of an envoy to Europe; the 
 choice of the language best suited for medical science ; 
 or how to act in matters of neutrality between 
 France and Germany, whose war vessels were in 
 Japanese waters; or to learn the truth about what 
 some foreign diplomat had asserted; or concern- 
 ing the persecutions of Christians ; or some serious 
 measure of home policy." 
 
 Perhaps the two greatest services which he ren- 
 dered were the translation of the Western law books, 
 law codes and books on political economy and in*
 
 Guldo Fridolin Verbeck 83 
 
 ternational law, and the projection of the famous 
 Iwakura embassy. This was a body of the most in- 
 fluential men of the empire sent abroad to America 
 and Europe. In America Joseph Hardy Neesima, 
 then a student here, was attached to the embassy as 
 an interpreter. Dr. Verbeck's share in planning this 
 embassy was little known at the time, and his policy 
 w^as always to conceal his influence. He wrote of 
 this particular enterprise, however, to an old friend 
 in America. "All this," he said, *1 only write to you, 
 and not to the public; for, as I said before, publish- 
 ing such things would be directly contrary to my 
 invariable principles of operation, would ruin my 
 reputation, and make me lose the confidence of the 
 people, which it has taken me twelve years to gain 
 in a small degree. Besides, there is a tacit under- 
 standing between Iwakura and myself that I shall 
 leave the outward honor of initiating this embassy 
 to themselves. And who cares for the mere name 
 and honor, if they are sure to reap the benefits, 
 toleration and its immense consequences, partly now, 
 but surely after the return of this embassy? More- 
 over, there is quite a band of foreign ministers and 
 consuls who look with envy on me and my doings, 
 and it would not be right nor expedient wantonly to 
 stir up their ire. I prefer to work on quietly and 
 at peace with all. Each man has his sphere of 
 action ; I like to keep within mine, without intruding
 
 84 Servants of the King 
 
 myself on others. The name is nothing, the real 
 results are all. Except to an old friend and a 
 brother, like you, I would not have ventured to 
 write the above, for fear of being misunderstood." 
 This embassy accomplished all that Dr. Verbeck had 
 hoped. The nation moved forward more rapidly 
 and steadily than ever, and, best of all, the notice- 
 boards against Christianity were taken down and 
 the door for missionary work began to open widely. 
 
 After starting the new school in Tokyo Dr. Ver- 
 beck was for five years attached to the Senate. 
 This was a body formed as a preparatory step to 
 a national constitution and parliament, and Dr. 
 Verbeck was adviser to it. By 1877 the new 
 government was well-established and had a num- 
 ber of foreign advisers, and Dr. Verbeck decided 
 to withdraw from its service and give all his time 
 again to direct missionary work. This he did in 
 1877, and to show that Japan appreciated what he 
 had been to her, the emperor bestowed upon him on 
 his withdrawal the decoration of the third class of 
 the Order of the Rising Sun. He later gave further 
 service to the government, but his remaining years 
 were spent directly in the work of missions. 
 
 His great reputation, his favor with the govern- 
 ment, his wonderful command of the Japanese lan- 
 guage, which brought great crowds to hear him 
 speak, and his unselfishness and lowliness of mind
 
 DECORATION OF THE ORDER OF THE RISING SUN
 
 Guido Fridolln Verbeck 85 
 
 made him one of the great Christian forces of the 
 empire, and he went far and wide, preaching in thea- 
 ters and halls and churches. He taught in one of 
 the theological schools and aided in the translation 
 of the Bible. 
 
 All this time he had been a man without a coun- 
 try. Leaving Holland as a minor he had lost his 
 Dutch nationality, and he had not been naturalized 
 in the United States, so that he had no American 
 citizenship. In Japan there was no provision for 
 the naturalization of foreigners, so that he could not 
 be a Japanese. Yet Japan was his real country, and 
 in 1 89 1 he applied to be made a citizen of Japan. 
 After explaining his situation to the Minister of 
 Foreign Affairs, he wrote: "If there existed in 
 this empire laws for the naturalization of foreigners, 
 I should under these circumstances gladly avail my- 
 self of them. But in the absence of such laws, I take 
 the great liberty to request of your excellency to be 
 so very kind, if possible, to use such means as your 
 excellency may deem proper and suitable to have me 
 placed under the protection of the supreme govern- 
 ment of this empire. I have but little to recommend 
 myself to your excellency's favor, unless I be allowed 
 to state, for the benefit of those who may perhaps 
 not know it, that I have resided and labored in this 
 empire for more than thirty years and spent one- 
 half of this long period in the service of both the
 
 86 Servants of the King 
 
 former and the present government of Japan." The 
 Japanese Government granted him his request and 
 took him and his family under its protection and 
 gave him and them the right, which no other for- 
 eigner then enjoyed, "to travel freely throughout the 
 empire in the same manner as the subjects of the 
 same, and to sojourn and reside in any locality." The 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs, in sending him this 
 statement, wrote: "You have resided in our em- 
 pire for several tens of years, the ways in which you 
 have exerted yourself for the benefit of our empire 
 are by no means few, and you have been always be- 
 loved and respected by our ofilicials and people." 
 
 Seven years later the life so influential and beloved 
 came peacefully to an end in his home in Tokyo. 
 The city government of Tokyo presented the family 
 with the burial plot in which his body was laid, and 
 the emperor himself paid the funeral expenses, and 
 a representative from the emperor came to the 
 funeral to carry the decoration which had been 
 presented to the missionary and which was laid on 
 a cushion and placed on the casket during the funeral 
 services. Being a decorated man, a company of 
 soldiers escorted the body two mJles to the cemetery 
 and afterward saluted the grave with presentation 
 of arms and other ceremonies of honor. 
 
 .What the nation thought was expressed by the
 
 Guido Fridolln Verbeck 87 
 
 Kokumin no Tomo (The Nation's Friend), one of 
 the Japanese journals : 
 
 '*By the death of Dr. Verbeck the Japanese peo- 
 ple have lost a benefactor, teacher, and friend. He 
 was born in Holland, was educated in America, and 
 taught in Japan. The present civilization of Japan 
 owes much to his services. Of the distinguished 
 statesmen and scholars of the present, many are those 
 who studied under his guidance. That during his 
 forty years' residence in this land he could witness 
 the germ, the flower, and the fruit of his labor, must 
 have been gratifying to him. It should be remem- 
 bered by our people that this benefactor, teacher, 
 and friend of Japan prayed for the welfare of this 
 empire until he breathed his last." 
 
 So the man without a nation helped to make a 
 nation.
 
 ELEANOR CHESNUT 
 
 89
 
 My life is lived so much among unlovely and unlovable 
 people that I have learned to have great sympathy and great 
 love for them. 
 
 — Eleanor Chesnut 
 
 90
 
 "M^^^*^
 
 VI 
 
 ELEANOR CHESNUT 
 
 On the wall of one of the rooms of the Presby- 
 terian Foreign Mission Board, in New York City, is 
 a bronze memorial tablet bearing this inscription : 
 
 In Loving Memory 
 
 of the 
 
 MISSIONARY MARTYRS 
 
 of Lien-chou, China, 
 
 ELEANOR CHESNUT, AI.D. 
 
 MRS. ELLA WOOD MACHLE 
 
 AND HER LITTLE DAUGHTER AMY 
 
 REV. JOHN ROGERS PEALE 
 
 MRS. REBECCA GILLESPIE PEALE 
 
 who, for Christ's sake, suffered cruel death at 
 
 Lien-chou, China, October 28, 1905. 
 
 "They loved not their lives unto the death." 
 
 Rev. xii. 11. 
 
 ''They climbed the steep ascent of heaven 
 Through peril, toil, and pain: 
 O God, to us may grace be given 
 To follow in their train." 
 
 ELEANOR CHESNUT, whose name stands 
 first on the tablet, was born at Waterloo, 
 Iowa, on January 8, 1868. Her father was Irish, 
 
 91
 
 92 Servants of the King 
 
 and her mother, whose maiden name was Cain, a 
 Manx woman. The father disappeared about the 
 time Eleanor was born and was never heard of 
 again, and the mother, who had the sympathy and 
 respect of the neighbors, died soon after, when 
 Eleanor was three years old. Eleanor was adopted, 
 but not legally, by friendly neighbors of scanty 
 means, who had no children of their own and found 
 the little girl both a comfort and a problem. Her 
 adopted parents did for her what they could, and 
 the father, looking back across the years, recalls 
 *'her loving, kindly ways, her obedience in the family 
 circle, her studious habits, and her unselfish ways." 
 But from the time she first understood her situation 
 and loneliness and poverty, the child felt it keenly 
 and w^as filled with inward resentment. However 
 tractable she appeared outwardly, she afterward 
 said, she was unhappy and lonely, hating control 
 and longing for the sympathy of a mother's love. 
 Her great happiness lay in her school life, but when 
 she was twelve it seemed that she might have to 
 give up school altogether. At that time she left 
 Waterloo and went to her aunt's in Missouri. The 
 home was a farm in an ignorant backwoods country 
 community where school privileges were of the most 
 primitive character, and the struggle for life in the 
 home was too strenuous to leave anything for the 
 expense of education.
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 93 
 
 In her new home, however, she heard in a round- 
 about way of Park College. The knowledge of the 
 existence of such an institution, where she might 
 work her way to an education, brought a gleam of 
 hope into her despair. In characteristic fashion she 
 wrote directly to the president of the college, tell- 
 ing him her longings and difficulties, and he wrote 
 to her to come to Parkville. She entered the 
 academy and remained until she had completed the 
 full college course, usually staying there summers 
 as well as winters. Here she found an entirely new 
 and congenial environment. She entered Park Col- 
 lege a forlorn, unapproachable girl with many faults 
 of many kinds; she found in Dr. Mcx\fee a true 
 friend, whose patience was inexhaustible and whose 
 influence remained with her always. She also found 
 many warm friends among the students, her sur- 
 roundings were congenial, and she became as zeal- 
 ously honest as she declared she had been before 
 unreliable. 
 
 She was not strong physically, and in those early 
 days of the college, teachers and students alike knew 
 the strain of overwork and undernourishment. "I 
 do not know," writes a friend, "how her personal 
 expenses were met. Her eldest brother was now at 
 work and occasionally sent her a little money, and 
 Mrs. McAfee had clothes given her for needy 
 students, from which store Eleanor was largely
 
 94 Servants of the King 
 
 clothed, a charity which she never could receive in 
 any spirit of gratitude, but which she accepted of 
 necessity and with bitter resentment. All these ex- 
 periences made her in after life full of understand- 
 ing, gentleness, and tact for others who were poor 
 and forlorn and proud." Outwardly she bore her- 
 self bravely and quietly, but her heart was very 
 lonely, and her life had not found yet the great inner 
 secret which brought her later the beauty and peace 
 of a consecrated soul. 
 
 Before she left Park College she had yielded to 
 the steady Christian influence of the college and be- 
 come a member of the Church. She had also gone 
 further and decided to become a missionary. As 
 her reason for the decision she gave simply "desire 
 to do good in what seems the most fitting sphere." 
 She left Park College in the spring of 1888, and 
 went to Chicago to study medicine. To one 
 who offered to aid her, she wrote: ''I have had 
 developed in me a liking for medical study, al- 
 though I did not seriously think of the matter 
 until of late. It seemed to me such an utter 
 impossibility to carry out the design, as I am with- 
 out means and without friends to assist. But I do 
 trust that I am by divine appointment fitted for this 
 work. My age — twenty-one next January. Oh! 
 I just do long to do this work." The strong power 
 of an unselfish purpose was beginning to work within
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 95 
 
 her. In Chicago she entered the Woman's Medical 
 College. "During the first year," writes the friend 
 whom she came to know about this time and who 
 became her one intimate friend and correspondent, 
 "she lived in an attic, cooked her own meals, and 
 almost starved. At the close of this first year of 
 medical education, she decided to take a course in 
 nursing as well, and that spring entered the Illinois 
 Training School for Nurses in Chicago for the 
 course, which was then two years. This was a new 
 and trying experience. Eleanor always resented 
 authority which hampered her own methods, also 
 she was careless and inexact in her ways, and 
 training-school discipline was a continual thorn in 
 her flesh. She loved the poor and suffering pa- 
 tients who were under her care, and was tender 
 and untiring in her care, faithful to the last detail 
 where essentials were concerned. After leaving the 
 medical college, she spent a winter in the Woman's 
 Reformatory in South Framingham, Mass., as as- 
 sistant to the resident physician, a very useful and 
 happy experience, and then took a short course in 
 the Moody Bible Institute." 
 
 In 1893 she sent in her formal application for 
 missionary appointment, expressing a preference to 
 be sent to Siam : *'Am willing to be sent to what- 
 ever location may be deemed fittest. But being 
 asked if I had a preference, my thoughts turned to
 
 96 Servants of the King 
 
 Siam. It is a specially interesting field to me since 
 I have always had throughout the country friends 
 and correspondents. If their special need and my 
 desire should coincide it would be for me a delightful 
 circumstance. I do not, however, set my heart 
 on any one place, but rather pray that wherever it 
 may be it will be the appointed one, that what 
 powers I possess may be used to the best advantage." 
 She had prepared herself carefully for the work. 
 She had made her own way through college, medical 
 school, and nurses' training-school, while she worked 
 as a nurse in summer vacations, having nursed Dr. 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes in his last illness. She had 
 also taken hospital training, including a good deal 
 of pharmaceutical work, and she had sought to make 
 up for what she regarded as her shortcomings in 
 the knowledge of the Bible and spiritual experience 
 by going to the Bible Institute. Those who knew 
 her believed that she was well fitted for the work. 
 She was appointed without hesitation as a medi- 
 cal missionary on August 7, 1893, was assigned to 
 South China, and sailed in the fall of 1894 on the 
 steamship Oceanic from San Francisco for Hong- 
 kong. There was quite a party of missionaries on 
 board. The fifth day out she wrote : "I fear there 
 were very few dry eyes as we caught the last glimpse 
 of her [the tug which had accompanied them out 
 of the bay] and heard the last strains of Auld Lang
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 97 
 
 Syne. I am glad to say that thus far I have shed 
 no tears. It would have been easy enough, but I 
 know there will be enough to weep over in the 
 future." At the end of the journey she wrote: "I 
 did hate to say good-by to the Oceanic. The officers 
 were all so kind that I shall regard them as old 
 friends." As soon as possible after reaching Canton 
 she went on inland to her own station at Sam-kong, 
 a town at the head of the waterways in the north- 
 west corner of the province of Kuang-tung near the 
 border of Hu-nan. The mission station consisted 
 at the time of one family, one self-supporting single 
 woman and one single man. There were a girls' 
 boarding-school, three churches at Sam-kong, Lien- 
 chou, and Lam-mo, and wards for the medical care 
 of women and men, though these were very inade- 
 quate. Dr. Chesnut began at once upon arrival the 
 study of Northern Mandarin. Later she tried to 
 acquire also some use of local dialects, almost in- 
 dispensable for reaching women who know nothing 
 but their own village dialect. 
 
 She began her work in her own way, drawing on 
 the inner resources, and not making herself a de- 
 pendent upon others. "Every morning," she wrote 
 to her friend at home, 'T have a choice little time 
 all to my lonesome. First I read the new quotation 
 on the calendar, then the thought for the day in 
 'Daily Strength for Daily Needs' and finally play
 
 98 Servants of the King 
 
 and sing a hymn. I enjoy my faltering attempts 
 at music very much. I can speak the language of 
 my soul quite as effectively in a simple melody as 
 some one else might in a grand sonata. The 
 Thwings have two baby organs and so have loaned 
 me one to have in my room. It is a good com- 
 panion. Whenever I get restless over Chinese 
 hieroglyphics or a trifle dull I play one of the few 
 only tunes I know. Thus far, I am thankful to say, 
 I ha.e been visited but little by the dread demon of 
 homesickness. There was a time of all-goneness 
 which lasted a week or two and helped to reduce my 
 avoirdupois. But, thank fortune, it is past. I pray 
 that it may not return." 
 
 A little hospital for women was prepared. Of 
 this she wTote : 'The little hospital is nearly 
 finished. I look out upon it with admiring eyes 
 and fancy myself within it administering 'yarbs' 
 and 'essences' at a great rate. I have at present 
 a joung girl in my charge sick with a low fever. 
 How I should like to remove her from her dark 
 room to the hospital and look after her myself. 
 Am afraid she will not recover, though I do hope 
 for her sake and for the work's sake she will. 
 Every patient that I lose counts so much against 
 the work here. I really do labor at a disadvan- 
 tage. Being able to talk so little, I do not get as 
 clear a history as I might at home. Another
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 99 
 
 obstacle is the scarcity of drugs. When I want one 
 it never seems to be in the dispensary; and when it 
 is, sometimes I can't find it because many of the 
 bottles are labeled in Chinese. The horrid tin cans 
 instead of bottles! Oh! lots of things one never 
 would dream of. But I don't care for any of these 
 trifles if only I am well and make a success of what 
 I have begun." 
 
 She had reached China about the time of the anti- 
 foreign disturbances in the Yang-tzia Valley foment- 
 ed by Chou-han and his propaganda in Hu-nan. 
 She refers to these conditions in one of her letters : 
 *The missionaries here are all well and the city is 
 peaceful. The interior seems pretty well disturbed. 
 I do hope you won't be frightened by newspaper 
 accounts. I don't think we are in any danger, and 
 if we are, we might as well die suddenly in God's 
 work as by some long-drawn-out illness at home. 
 Miss Johnston writes that the Sam-kongites are 
 usually friendly. I think there is still much hope 
 for China in spite of such expressions as 'an un- 
 claimable lot of heathen savages.' But I am sure 
 that it is our duty as a Christian nation to enhghten 
 the Chinese, and I think very few persons at home 
 realize what idolatry is — how full of cruel super- 
 stition China is. They spend their whole existence 
 in fear of some devil or other, and die with it still 
 upon them. I feel especially sorry for the women.
 
 100 Servants of the King 
 
 The majority don't know anything aside from comb- 
 ing their hair, doing a few household duties, bearing 
 children, and afterward hanging them upon their 
 backs till they are five or six years of age. They are 
 not expected to be intelligent, and do not expect it 
 themselves. Their lives seem so barren — their tasks 
 no higher than those of a beast of burden — vexed 
 with human passions and endowed with no power to 
 control them." 
 
 Within a year after reaching Sam-kong, Dr. Ches- 
 nut had an opportunity to go down on a visit to 
 Canton, and while there she studied the extensive 
 medical work of the mission hospital and also seized 
 every chance of rendering service to those in need. 
 
 In the spring of 1898 Dr. Chesnut removed to 
 Lien-chou, a miOre favorable location than Sam-kong, 
 the station having purchased a good site on the 
 river bank opposite the city. "Here I am at last," 
 she wrote, "in the much-looked-forward-to Lien- 
 chou. Monday I had a few of the most important 
 things carried overland. I hear that the boats are 
 on their way. They have divided their cargo with 
 several others and are floating the hospital bed 
 boards and my springs. Won't they be rusty! I 
 only hope they won't try to float the books and the 
 organ. I don't mind being here alone at all." She 
 was living alone at this time at Lien-chou, the five 
 other members of the station still residing at Sam-
 
 Eleanor Chesnut loi 
 
 kong. She was in the men's hospital, the women's 
 hospital having not yet been built. In the absence 
 of Dr. Machle, who was in charge of the men's 
 hospital, she was conducting all the work. In her 
 letter she writes : 
 
 ''How many people do you suppose are tempo- 
 rarily in my charge ? Two day-school teachers, the 
 hospital preacher, janitor, scribe, doctor, watchman, 
 woman who helps in Sam-kong dispensary, the 
 woman who helps in this dispensary, and the Bible- 
 woman. I have to be after some one continually, 
 but I do hate to get after people. I am conscious 
 of so many failings on my own part that I don't 
 feel equal to attending to those of others. 
 
 "I have to perform all my operations now in 
 my bathroom, which was as small as the law al- 
 lowed before. Now with an operating table it 
 is decidedly full. I do not mind those incon- 
 veniences at all, however. I wish I could look for- 
 ward to as good accommodations for the work next 
 year. 
 
 ''I really cannot find time to write much these 
 days. There are thirty in-patients in the hospital, 
 most of them fever cases. If they w^ere all of the 
 common class they would serve to keep one person 
 busy, but the fact of belonging partly to the official 
 class accentuates matters. The Lien-shan official, 
 his wife, his cousin, one child, and a whole retinue
 
 102 Servants of the King 
 
 of servants are in the hospital, and the wife and 
 child of a smaller official. To-night I have a case 
 of dementia on hand, a Lien-chou official who has 
 ruined himself with opium. He is only thirty-five 
 years of age and has an excellent mind. He came 
 to me this evening to implore protection. He thinks 
 he is continually pursued by demons. I had no 
 place for him but my study. He is sometimes vio- 
 lent and has to be carefully watched. So I am sit- 
 ting here on guard now. I do hope he will recover, 
 but you have seen enough of these opium cases in 
 the hospital to know what they are like. My patient 
 is now seated at the table reading, but I can see that 
 he is decidedly fidgety. He is a fine, tall man with 
 a clear complexion and fine white teeth. He seems 
 to have a good mind, and it is a pity that he is in 
 this condition. I often think what a different idea 
 you would have of the Chinese if you could see 
 some of these handsome, well-dressed gentlemen. 
 They are so polite that one minute I am filled with 
 awe and the next overcome by the ludicrousness of 
 some child-like freak. There is the making of a 
 great nation in China. 
 
 "One of my patients, a wealthy man, the one 
 whose wife I mentioned before, has had a tablet 
 made for me like the one the Lien-shan official and 
 his cousin presented me with. The tablet is to be 
 sent in the morning and I am going to the feast in
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 103 
 
 the evening. I dread the thought of it. I am so 
 tired. I wish I could sleep a whole day. I shall 
 soon be rested, however. . . . The other night 
 the druggist gave me a prescription which you may 
 find useful, though the ingredients are more diffi- 
 cult to procure in America than in China. You 
 must catch some little rats whose eyes are not yet 
 open, pound them to a jelly, and add lime and 
 peanut oil. Warranted to cure any kind of an ulcer." 
 
 How many surgeons would like to amputate a 
 leg without any skilled helper? Of course, it is 
 done, but it is not customary. 
 
 During the time above mxcntioned ]\Ir. Lingle 
 occasionally returned to the station from his almost 
 constant itineration. He came to Lien-chou just 
 when Dr. Chesnut was about to perform such an 
 operation. I believe he held the leg, but Dr. Ches- 
 nut did the cutting and sewing. 
 
 *The operation was very successful," wrote one 
 of her associates. The man not only did not die on 
 the table, but, better still, he recovered strength. 
 Several times I saw him going about on crutches 
 with a bright smile and good color. But Dr. 
 Chesnut was not satisfied with the results. The 
 flaps of skin which were to fold over and cover 
 the stump did not fully unite. She said little 
 about it, but one day, when she was at my place, 
 I observed that she walked with an appearance
 
 104 Servants of the King 
 
 of pain. I asked if she had met with an accident, 
 but she said, *0h, it's nothing.' Knowing her tem- 
 perament, I forbore further questioning, but in a few 
 days took occasion to walk over to Lien-chou, and 
 while there made some inquiries of our good women 
 at the hospital. 'Yes,' said one, nodding her head. 
 'I should think she couldn't walk well after cutting 
 off so much skin from her leg to put on that boy's 
 leg.' She was determined, at any cost, to make it 
 a success. This was just like Dr. Chesnut. To 
 have spoken further to her about it would have been 
 to let her know that I knew that the flaps had not 
 united. Silent appreciation of her sacrifice was 
 best." 
 
 She did not shrink from being alone. She had 
 written some years before of preferring it, but she 
 felt the loneliness none the less, and the burden of 
 responsibility was very heavy for her. In due time 
 new missionaries came to take the place of several 
 who had stayed on the field but a brief time, and 
 older missionaries returned from furlough. The 
 Board did its best to keep the force full. Mean- 
 while she went on unflinchingly with her work far 
 away in the interior alone. 
 
 In 1900 the money was provided for a woman's 
 hospital. She had begun the building in faith with 
 $300 Mexican before she knew that the appropria- 
 tion had been made by the Board.
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 105 
 
 The Boxer troubles in the north had sent for- 
 eigners in all parts of China down to the coast, but 
 for months Dr. Chesnut declined to go. In August, 
 however, the pressure from Canton became so great 
 that she consented to go down, though she was 
 without fear. In the spring, when the storm was 
 over, she returned. The political conditions were 
 full of perils, however, and the perils did not de- 
 crease, and little was needed to touch off a confla- 
 gration, as later events showed. The station had 
 always kept free from political entanglements, and 
 that w^as one great safeguard. But great care was 
 necessary. 
 
 In the spring of 1902 she came home on fur- 
 lough. She returned by way of Europe. Her 
 time at home was spent visiting, doing postgraduate 
 work in medicine, making missionary addresses, and 
 raising over a thousand dollars gold to supplement a 
 good sum raised on the field for a chapel at Lien- 
 chou. She declined a proposal that came to her to 
 go to Hu-nan to take charge of the woman's hos- 
 pital medical work in that new mission. *T con- 
 cluded," she wrote, "that it would be a mistake for 
 me to leave Lien-chou. I am acquainted with the 
 people there, their dialect, diseases, faults, virtues, 
 and other points. Then I am so fond of them. 
 I do not believe I could ez'er have quite the same 
 feeling of affection for any other people. All my
 
 io6 Servants of the King 
 
 early associations in missionary life are connected 
 with them. Moreover, Lien-chou has been so un- 
 fortunate in the matter of losing its missionaries 
 that I fear it would be very discouraging to those 
 at the station. The work is increasing every year. 
 Before I left in the spring there was work enough 
 for twenty missionaries instead of five." 
 
 In the fall of 1903 she returned to Lien-chou. 
 Her work was never conceived by her in a narrow 
 sense, however, and her first letter to the Board after 
 her return was a clear and convincing appeal for 
 a building for the boys' boarding-school, from which 
 they were obliged to turn away boys because the old 
 house which was in use was too small. Her second 
 letter was an expression of her hope that another 
 doctor might be sent to take her place so that she 
 could go to Ham-kuang, an important town on the 
 river south of Lien-chou, near the abandoned mission 
 station of Kang-hau. 
 
 But she did not go to Ham-kuang. Her next 
 journey was to another city, the city "whose builder 
 and maker is God," and the day of her departure 
 was near. She had some intimation that trouble 
 might be coming. The talk of the streets as she 
 passed by was intelligible to her, and she knew that 
 the general condition of the country was very in- 
 flammable. 
 
 The new missionaries whom she had been for
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 107 
 
 some time expecting, Mr. and Mrs. Peale and Dr. 
 and Mrs. Machle, who had been at Canton at the 
 mission meeting, arrived at the station on the eve- 
 ning of October 29th, 1905. It was near the close 
 of the Chinese celebration of Ta Tsin, or All Souls' 
 Day, which they were observing with the usual 
 idolatrous ceremonies. A mat shed connected with 
 the celebration had been erected on mission prop- 
 erty. The same thing had been done the year be- 
 fore, and when Dr. Machle spoke about it to the 
 elders of the village in which the mission property 
 lay, they agreed that it was improper and would 
 not be done again. When Dr. Machle went to the 
 hospital on the morning of October 28th the shed 
 had been erected on mission property again. He 
 picked up accordingly three of six small cannon 
 which were being fired off and carried them to the 
 men's hospital, less than a hundred yards away. It 
 was a customary Chinese w^ay of indicating that he 
 wished to confer with the elders. They came to 
 see him accordingly and matters were arranged 
 satisfactorily, and the cannon were returned. As 
 the elders went away a mob came from the opposite 
 direction, armed with a sword, a revolver, and sticks. 
 The old man carrying the cannon came back and 
 told the mob that everything was satisfactorily set- 
 tled, but the rabble had already determined upon 
 trouble, had indeed probably been waiting for an
 
 io8 Servants of the King 
 
 opportunity for it, and attacked the hospital. Dr. 
 Chesniit had come on the scene during the discus- 
 sion, and on seeing the turn of affairs, instead of 
 going into the hospital, hurried off, pursued by part 
 of the mob, to report the matter to the Chinese au- 
 thorities. She reached the police boat on the river 
 and might have escaped in safety, but seeing the 
 peril of the others, returned to Dr. Machle's resi- 
 dence, where all the other missionaries, save Dr. 
 Machle, were assembled — Mrs. Machle, Miss Pat- 
 terson, Mr. and Mrs. Peale and Amy Machle, a little 
 girl of eleven. The mob increased. The Chinese 
 officials who came were unable to do anything to 
 restrain them, and Dr. Machle joined the other 
 missionaries and all fled by a back door. A ferry- 
 man refused to carry them across the river to Lien- 
 chou, and they started toward Sam-kong. The mob 
 pursued them so closely, however, that they sought 
 refuge in a Buddhist temple about a mile away, 
 where they hid in a cave opening into the rocks back 
 of the temple. Here all were caught except Dr. 
 Machle and Miss Patterson, who were separated 
 from the others and in deeper recesses of the cave. 
 Mrs. Machle reasoned calmly with the mob until 
 a blow from behind ended her life. The little girl 
 was flung into the river and stabbed and drowned. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Peale, less than forty-eight hours 
 at the station, were slain together. Dr. Chesnut
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 109 
 
 was killed first. A Chinese eye-witness told of her 
 death : 
 
 "I arrived at the temple shortly before noon, just 
 in time to see the mob bringing Dr. Chesnut down 
 the temple steps to the foot of a large tree, and she 
 sat down on a mound at the side. Some young 
 fellows then went up to her and hit her with a piece 
 of wood. It was not a hard blow. Four ruffians 
 then rushed upon her and dragged her from the 
 tree, and getting behind her pushed her down the 
 steep bank leading to the river and threw her into 
 the water, where she lay as though asleep. Then 
 one of the men jumped into the river and stabbed 
 her with a trident three times — once in the neck, 
 once in the breast, and once in the lower part of 
 the abdomen. Other men jumped into the water. 
 She was then to all appearance dead. About ten 
 minutes afterward they brought the body ashore." 
 
 The last service she rendered the Chinese was 
 under this tree, when she noticed a boy in the crowd 
 who had an ugly gash in his head. Dr. Chesnut 
 called him to her, tore off a portion of her dress and 
 bound up the wound. It was her last patient. The 
 lad came afterward to the missionaries and showed 
 them the healed wound. Other Chinese boys felt 
 the shame and disgrace of the massacre, and one 
 of them wrote this letter:
 
 no Servants of the King 
 
 "Canton Christian College, 
 "Canton, China, 
 "November 20, 1905. 
 "To the Family and Relatives of Dr. Eleanor Chesnut : 
 
 "We are sadly shocked and deeply chagrined to hear of the 
 hideous massacre at Lien-chou. It is indeed a surprise to us. 
 After she and the other missionaries up there have done so 
 much for the benefit of our people, instead of appreciating and 
 feeling grateful for the many kindnesses received, they repaia 
 them in such a cruel and brutal way. This is a shame to our 
 people, a shame to our race ! It is a sad and melancholy spec- 
 tacle to see our people become so degraded and debased men- 
 tally; for there is no excuse whatever for their savagery and 
 brutality. When we think of this our hearts break. 
 
 "We can imagine your distress and despair at the loss of 
 your loved ones. Believe us, you have our warmest sympathy 
 and prayers for God's blessing upon you all. Your loved one 
 has but gone up to her eternal home to be with the Savior. 
 She is at peace after a life of labor and toil, enjoying her 
 reward. And who knows but that her 'faith unto death' influ- 
 ence may be more to the lives of the people at Lien-chou here- 
 after than it has ever been before? 
 
 "Accept our deepest sympathy and heartfelt apology. 
 "With the utmost respect we are very sincerely, 
 
 "Students of Canton Christian College.'* 
 
 It was clear, however, that her work was done, her 
 life finished, and she was made ready for the higher 
 service of the life everlasting. All the hardness of 
 the early years was gone, and she was perfected in 
 love at last. The peculiarity and desolation of her 
 girlhood had been transformed into sympathy with 
 all who were in need and complete and Christlike 
 ministry to all suffering. "As a college girl," wrote 
 one of her classmates, "she was somewhat odd and 
 eccentric, but to those who really knew her she was 
 generous, kind-hearted, genuine, and especially true 
 to her friends. She was mentally one of the brightest
 
 Eleanor Chesnut iii 
 
 girls in the class of '88. As a medical student her 
 eccentricities decreased and her life grew and un- 
 folded until, when she went to China, she went 
 thoroughly trained and fitted for a service of the 
 finest quality. One little incident seems to me to 
 give the key to her whole life as a missionary in 
 China. She heard us talking in our home of a 
 very unlovely old woman who was dependent on the 
 church and who made herself so disagreeable that 
 it was sometimes hard to find money for her sup- 
 port. In the evening she came to Dr. Mci\fee and 
 said : 'I want to give you this money for that un- 
 lovely old woman whom nobody loves. My life is 
 lived so much among unlovely and unlovable people 
 that I have learned to have great sympathy and great 
 love for them.' 'Not to be miinistered unto, but to 
 minister,' was the key-note of the life of her IMaster, 
 and she, too, had learned not only to minister with 
 no thought of return, but to love to do so, which is 
 a far greater thing." 
 
 ^'The terrible news from China brought by our 
 daily papers last w^eek has indeed been sadly veri- 
 fied," wrote another. ^'It came with especial sad- 
 ness to us, because of our opportunity two years ago 
 to renew with Dr. Chesnut our friendship of col- 
 lege days in a week's visit she made us on her re- 
 turn journey to China. We shall always be thank- 
 ful for that opportunity to know the strength and
 
 112 Servants of the King 
 
 beauty of her character as developed in those lonely 
 years of devoted service in China. So unassuming 
 and modest were the accounts she gave of her life 
 there, that not till she had gone did we realize the 
 self-sacrifice and heroism underlying those years. 
 How lonely her first years in China were I suppose 
 we at home can never know. But in them she grew 
 sweet and strong and wonderfully sympathetic and 
 Christlike. To know her was a call to higher living, 
 to nobler serving. She has gone home, but who can 
 doubt that her life will blossom and bear fruit in the 
 lives of many of those Chinese women to whom in 
 Christ's name she gave *all she had' — no mean 
 sacrifice ?" 
 
 All this perfected character was not lost when Dr. 
 Chesnut went. It was simply transferred to its own 
 higher and nobler sphere. She had come thus to 
 trust God. So also may we. On the day of her 
 death a letter was received from her, in the Board 
 rooms, in which she had quoted these lines : 
 
 'Being in doubt, I say, 
 Lord, make it plain ! 
 
 Which is the true, safe way? 
 Which would be in vain? 
 
 "I am not wise to know, 
 Not sure of foot to go, 
 My blind eyes cannot see 
 What is so clear to thee ; 
 Lord, make it clear to me.
 
 Eleanor Chesnut 113 
 
 "Being perplexed, I say, 
 Lord, make it right ! 
 Night is as day to thee, 
 Darkness as light. 
 
 "I am afraid to touch 
 Things that involve so much; 
 My trembling hand may shake, 
 My skilless hand may break— 
 Thine can make no mistake."
 
 MATTHEW TYSON YATES 
 
 "5
 
 So much work, and I can't do any of it. . . . God needs 
 men. — Matthew Tyson Yates 
 
 ii6
 
 ^. 
 
 / 
 
 r 
 
 <l 
 
 C^^^^^~^Ma^
 
 VII 
 
 MATTHEW TYSON YATES 
 
 ABOUT seventy-five years ag"o a group of boys 
 were playing about a great white oak tree 
 near an "old-field school" in North Carolina. An 
 *'old-field school" in those days was a country school 
 held in a schoolhouse usually situated in an old 
 field. This group of boys had come out for recess 
 and were having a lively game under the spreading 
 limbs of an old tree. The boys were using the ends 
 of its great limbs, which reached almost down to 
 the ground, for bases. In the midst of the game one 
 of them gave a challenge to get off base, and all 
 the fifteen or twenty boys responded and ran out 
 from ten to twenty feet from the tree. The sky was 
 overcast, but there had been neither rain nor thunder. 
 Just on the moment the boys were safely away from 
 the tree, however, it was struck twice by lightning 
 in two consecutive seconds and shivered into pieces. 
 No one was killed, but the boys were hurled to the 
 ground, and each boy had on his body for hours a 
 
 117
 
 Ii8 Servants of the King 
 
 deep red spot as large as a dollar, caused by the 
 electricity. 
 
 On one of the boys, then twelve years old, the 
 incident so sudden and unexpected made a deep im- 
 pression. He realized in a new way the power and 
 presence of God, and felt that he must go off and 
 pray. "The next morning," said he, "when I went 
 into a dense forest to find a certain lot of pigs — the 
 daily care of w^hich had been committed to me — I 
 sought and found, in a thick brush, a large oak that 
 w^as much inclined toward the south, where I would 
 be protected from the rain and snow in winter. 
 There I erected my altar of prayer, and there, for 
 years, I prayed, 'God be merciful to me a sinner.' 
 At night, I found a place of prayer nearer home, 
 where I was able to pray unobserved." 
 
 This boy was Matthew Tyson Yates, the pioneer 
 missionary of the Southern Baptist Convention, who 
 was to spend forty-three years as a missionary in 
 Shanghai, China. He was born on January 8, 
 1819. His father was a North Carolina farmer, who 
 delighted in keeping an open home for preachers of 
 all denominations. It was one of these preachers, 
 Father Purefoy, who taught the boy the prayer he 
 prayed in the woods. On one of his visits he put 
 his hand on the boy's head, saying, "May the Lord 
 make a preacher of him." "This blessing," said Dr. 
 Yates years afterward, "made an impression upon
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 119 
 
 my young heart, for his manner was kind and his 
 tone of voice serious." 
 
 In 1836, at the camp-meeting at Mount Pisgah 
 Church, the boy openly confessed the Savior before 
 men and was baptized. On his way home sore temp- 
 tation befell him. The evil one told him that he had 
 been very foolish and had spoiled his life. The lad 
 turned aside to meet his adversary by prayer, throw- 
 ing himself down by the side of a fallen tree. 
 "When I had been praying I know not how long," 
 he said, "I heard a great noise in the leaves on the 
 other side of the fallen tree, like some one approach- 
 ing me. It became so demonstrative that I raised 
 myself to see what it was. And lo, there was a 
 kingsnake, not more than two and a half feet long, 
 in deadly conflict with a very large black serpent not 
 less than six feet long. The noise was caused by 
 the struggle of the blacksnake to prevent himself 
 being doubled by his assailant into the form of a 
 rude ball. The striped little kingsnake was entwined 
 in and out of this ball, and in this position, by 
 alternate contractions, he crushed the bones of his 
 apparently more powerful enemy, and then extricated 
 himself and crawled quietly away, leaving the black- 
 snake dead. I felt that it was good to be there; 
 so I again resumed my supplication and thanksgiv- 
 ing, and then went on my way comforted and rejoic- 
 ing, feeling that this incident taught me that the Lion
 
 120 Servants of the King 
 
 of the tribe of Judah, Jesus, was able to conquer 
 even the old serpent himself. And in many a con- 
 flict since, I have evidence of his presence to protect, 
 comfort, and direct me in the way I should go. That 
 day and night I rested in Jesus. In meditating upon 
 what I had done, and upon the incident of the day, 
 and realizing that Jesus on the cross had vanquished 
 Satan, I had great joy. Henceforth the burden of 
 my prayer at the old oak tree and elsewhere was, 
 'Lord, what wilt thou have me to do? Show me 
 my duty, and grant me grace and courage to do it.' " 
 
 He made a beginning in Christian work by get- 
 ting up a prayer-meeting with two other boys. The 
 old people came and the three boys were so 
 frightened that they made sorry work of the meet- 
 ing, but it was a beginning from which Matthew did 
 not turn back. 
 
 When he was nineteen he started off to the 
 academy and college at Wake Forest, North Caro- 
 lina. He had a conviction that he was not to be 
 a farmer and asked his father to help him to an 
 education. ''He regretted extremely his inability 
 to send all his children abroad to a good school,'' 
 says Yates, "and said that for him to attempt to 
 send me would be making an invidious distinc- 
 tion. I then told him that when I became a free 
 man I intended to go to school if I had to make 
 brick by moonlight to pay my way, and asked him
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 121 
 
 if he would allow me liberty to go to school on my 
 own responsibility when I was nineteen, the age 
 at which my oldest brother had married. To this 
 he assented and promised to assist me some. 
 With desire I looked forward to the next year, 
 when I hoped, with the proceeds of my horse, 
 saddle, and bridle, to commence preparation for new 
 work. I felt that God had something for me to do 
 in the world, and that my first duty was to prepare 
 myself for it. As I was a full-grown man and had 
 not the means to accomplish what I had set before 
 me, the prospect seemed dark indeed. But I resolved 
 that, with the blessing of God, I would make a way 
 — that no obstacle that could be overcome by human 
 effort should be regarded as insurmountable. This 
 decision, made upon my knees, gave me courage and 
 afforded some relief. Thenceforth the object which 
 I had set before me was the center around which 
 all my thoughts, prayers, plans, and hopes revolved." 
 He made his way, in part by teaching vocal music, 
 for he had a remarkable voice ; in part by commend- 
 ing himself to the Church as a man of promise well 
 deserving its assistance, and in part, we may be sure, 
 by prayer. In college as at home he had his secret 
 place for meeting God. He prayed in his room fear- 
 lessly, but as other boarders shared his room he says, 
 *'I found it necessary to resort to the woods again 
 for an altar of prayer."
 
 122 Servants of the King 
 
 At Wake Forest he decided quietly, after long 
 debate of conscience, that it was his duty to become 
 a minister, and this led on at once with him to the 
 purpose to be a foreign missionary. Indeed, he 
 had long thought of the work on the foreign field. 
 As a boy he had read the memoirs of Mrs. Judson, 
 and as he followed the plow or worked with his 
 trowel he wept, he says, for hours at the thought 
 of the world without Christ its Savior. His health 
 hindered him for a time, but not long, as he had a 
 powerful physique, and was resolutely determined 
 that he must go. He wrote to the secretary of the 
 Foreign Mission Board in Richmond, Virginia : "I 
 have, with prayerful meditation, looked over the 
 globe, and there is no field which seems to me so in- 
 viting as China. I am now resolved^, and I hope that 
 I have been guided by the Holy Spirit, that, let 
 others say what they may about rushing into danger, 
 I will go wheresoever God in his providence may 
 direct me. Since coming to this irrevocable conclu- 
 sion my feelings and affections seem to have winged 
 their way to China. This enterprise has swallowed 
 up every other." 
 
 On August 3, 1846, he was appointed, the first 
 foreign missionary to go out from the State of North 
 Carolina. He was married on September 27, and 
 on April 26, 1847, he and Mrs. Yates sailed from 
 Boston for Hongkong on a sailing vessel and
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 123 
 
 reached Shanghai, only four years before opened 
 to foreigners, on September 12. He knew no one 
 in the city. There was no foreign hotel or boarding- 
 house. He had a letter to the Austrian consul, but 
 his home was full of shipwrecked sailors. The con- 
 sul sent him to Bishop Boone of the Protestant Epis- 
 copal Church. The bishop's house, too, was full, but 
 Mr. and Mrs. Yates joyfully slept on the parlor floor. 
 With the assistance of one of the bishop's mission- 
 aries a large pawnbroker's establishment, which the 
 Chinese regarded as haunted and would not rent, 
 was secured. ''All the partitions above stairs," says 
 Dr. Yates, *'had been removed, leaving a large barn- 
 like hall. Here were abundant signs of the spirits 
 or ghosts of which we had been duly warned — rats. 
 Into one side of this dirty place we moved ourselves, 
 with sundry boxes and trunks containing our world- 
 ly goods. This was a time to hear words of com- 
 plaint from a wife, if she had not counted the cost 
 or fully made up her mind to share my fortune. But 
 from that day to the present no such word has ever 
 been known to pass her lips. All honor to a brave 
 woman! I had come provided with a box of car- 
 penter's tools. Bedstead, cooking-stove, crockery, 
 and other articles were soon unpacked, so far as to 
 provide for immediate necessities. And, with the 
 boards and nails of packing-cases, my own hands
 
 124 Servants of the King 
 
 extemporized a partition higher than a man's head, 
 and so made a private room." 
 
 A servant was secured, but he knew no EngHsh, 
 and the new missionaries knew no Chinese. *'How- 
 ever, we had learned one sentence of the spoken 
 language: Te-ko-kiaw-saf ('What is this called f) 
 Thus supplied with a house, a cook, a ham, a 
 few vegetables (we had also a few biscuits with 
 us), and one sentence of the spoken language, we 
 commenced life in Shanghai. Moreover, our com- 
 bined knowledge of practical housekeeping soon 
 demonstrated that we had imported an ignorance 
 that was equivalent to paralysis.- We could not 
 give the cook directions about our first meal, nor 
 could we cook a bowl of rice ourselves. A dilemma ! 
 But something had to be done. Hard work at 
 opening cases and unpacking reminded us that it 
 was dinner-time. The cook stood before us, grin- 
 ning as he waited for orders. What should I do? 
 I believed that I could fry a slice of ham and 
 scramble a few eggs. So, armed with the one 
 sentence, 'What is this called?' and Mrs. Yates 
 with blank book and pencil for taking notes, down 
 the ladder we crawled to the improvised kitchen, 
 followed by the cook, who for the time was 
 our teacher. I pointed at the cooking-stove, and 
 said, Te-ko-kiaw-saf (What is this called?) An- 
 swer, Tih-tsaw. 'Write that down.' Seizing a bit
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 125 
 
 of wood, I said, Te-ko-kiazv-saf Answer, Sza. 
 I struck a match, and pointing at the fire, said, Te- 
 ko-kiaw-saf Answer, Who. I made a fire in the 
 stove: Te-ko-kiaw-sa? Answer, Sang-who. In like 
 manner I took the carving-knife, the ham, cut the 
 ham, took up a frying-pan, cleaned it, fried the 
 ham, took some eggs, scrambled them, put them in 
 a dish, asking about everything and every act, Te- 
 ko-kiaw-saf and Mrs. Yates writing down the 
 answer. 
 
 ''We then crawled up the ladder to our great hall, 
 feeling that we had accomplished something. Taking 
 a cloth, the lining of a box, to spread on a packing- 
 case (for we had no table), I said, Te-ko-kiaw-sa f 
 Answer, Tsz-tare. Then, placing on it all the furni- 
 ture necessary for our simple repast, and asking the 
 name of each article, I said, Te-ko-kiaw-sa f An- 
 swer, Batay-tsz (set the table). We partook of 
 ham and eggs with relish, asking no questions till 
 we had finished. Then I said, Te-ko-kiaw-sa f. 
 Answer, CWiih-van (eat rice). 
 
 'Thus we prepared and ate our first meal in our 
 own hired house. The character of our conversa- 
 tion, while we ate, I leave you to imagine; for the 
 way before us was dark. 
 
 ''With the aid of an English-Chinese dictionary 
 we were able to find the words for fish, fowl, mutton, 
 also for some vegetables, and for hiiy. By pointing
 
 126 Servants of the King 
 
 to these words in the dictionary we managed in our 
 orders to substitute one or other of these articles 
 ior ham, and so varied our diet a Httle." 
 
 So they began. With a teacher who knew nothing 
 about instructing a foreigner how to talk they com- 
 menced the study of the language. How different 
 it all is now. Yat^s said, years afterward : "A mis- 
 sionary arriving in Shanghai hereafter can never 
 know the luxury of roughing it or of digging for 
 the language. In most instances, a missionary friend 
 will know about the hour he is to arrive and meet 
 him at the steamboat wharf and conduct him to his 
 comfortable home. If he is a stranger, three runners 
 from good hotels will, as soon as the steamer is made 
 fast, present their cards and offer their services: 
 ''Carriage at the wharf, sir ; go right up.' And when 
 he is rested and ready to commence the study of the 
 language, he will find in English and Chinese First 
 Lessons in Chinese, grammars, and a great variety 
 of books, including the Scriptures and many religious 
 tracts in the Shanghai dialect, both in the Roman 
 and Chinese characters. With these, and a will to 
 fit himself for work, he ought to learn the spoken 
 language in a much shorter time than we, who came 
 earlier, were able to do." 
 
 Yates learned the language quickly and accurately. 
 Trouble with his eyesight prevented the study from 
 books which he would have liked to do, but it com-
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 127 
 
 pelled him to mingle with the people, where his 
 quick ear enabled him to acquire a richness of vo- 
 cabulary and an accuracy of tone which made him 
 one of the best speakers of Chinese in Shanghai. 
 If he spoke where he was unseen the Chinese could 
 not tell that it was a foreigner. 
 
 There Avas great fear and dislike of foreigners at 
 that time, and the people were prejudiced against 
 the new teachers. But Mr. Yates soon had a large 
 hall for preaching services, and here great com- 
 panies assembled to hear the foreigner. When 
 interruptions came, the missionary was a match 
 for them. ''I remember," says he, ''preaching on 
 one occasion to a full house when my skill was 
 put to test. During my sermon I touched upon 
 the teachings of Confucius. Thereupon a literary 
 man rose to his feet, about the center of the 
 church, and began to speak. In order to counter- 
 act the effect of the point I had made against 
 his cherished system, he commenced repeating, from 
 memory, portions of the Confucius classics in the 
 book style. This could not be understood by any 
 one who had not committed to memory those por- 
 tions of the classics. When he took his seat, all 
 eyes were turned upon me, for I had remained silent 
 while he was talking. I felt that it was necessary 
 for me to meet this unexpected sally, or that what 
 I had gained would be lost. I had not been out of
 
 128 Servants of the King 
 
 college so long that I could not repeat some of thf» 
 speeches which I had declaimed when a freshman. 
 So I commenced, in English, with the familiar ex- 
 tract from Wirt's celebrated speech, 'Who is Blen- 
 nerhassett?' After declaiming for a few minutes 
 in the most approved style, I stopped and gazed at 
 my man. All eyes were at once turned upon him, 
 as much as to say, 'What have you to say to tJiatr 
 After a moment's silence, he said, 'Who can under- 
 stand foreign talk?' I replied, 'Who can under- 
 stand Wenli (book-style) ? If you have anything to 
 say let us have it in the spoken language, so that all 
 can understand and be profited.' 'Yes,' said many 
 voices, 'speak so that we can all understand.' He 
 then attempted an argument, but it happened to be 
 a point on which I was well posted. At a single 
 stroke of my sledge-hammer he succumbed before 
 the whole audience." 
 
 As soon as possible Yates pressed out from Shang- 
 hai into the country. He was a great curiosity to 
 the people who had never seen a foreigner. A 
 large amount of this curiosity had to be gratified be- 
 fore he found it possible to get access to their minds. 
 This was the first missionary work that had to be 
 done, and is, even now, in a strange locality. It was 
 only after giving a sort of exhibition of himself 
 several times at a place that he had a chance to 
 preach to an attentive audience. Even then it was
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 129 
 
 necessary to request two or three persons to keep 
 barking dogs away. It is a depressing thought that 
 it takes a long time, in a strange locahty, for Chinese 
 to hear what a foreigner is saying. They may under- 
 stand each word that he utters, but, not apprehending 
 what is the subject that he is talking about and their 
 minds not being accustomed to thinking, they do 
 not leave old ruts very easily. 
 
 This country work was soon interrupted, for from 
 1853 to 1856 Shanghai was beset by rebels. The 
 T'ai-p'ing Rebellion was in progress, but the dis- 
 turbance at Shanghai was purely local and not con- 
 nected with the T'ai-p'ing insurrection. Yates' 
 house was in the native city and in a position of 
 danger. For sixteen months Mr. Yates occupied it 
 alone, though shot often crashed through the win- 
 dows or against the wall at the foot of his bed. 
 At last the government purchased the house to use 
 as a base of operation against the rebels, and he 
 moved out. 
 
 When the rebellion was over his health became 
 so much impaired that the doctor ordered him to 
 leave for a year. The ship on which he and his 
 family sailed was so nearly wrecked that they were 
 picked up by a Siamese ship and taken back to 
 Shanghai, whence, on November 17, 1857, they 
 started again for New York City. On the voyage 
 their supplies gave out and they were reduced to
 
 130 Servants of the King 
 
 dried apples. At last, after reaching a point within 
 one hundred and fifty miles of New York, they 
 were eleven days getting in because of hard winds 
 and storms. 
 
 At home on furlough, some members of Mr. 
 Yates' old church criticized him for being dressed 
 too well. At length it was referred to openly in a 
 meeting. Then *'Mr. Yates arose with an almost 
 heavenly smile on his countenance. He said that 
 he did not dress extravagantly; that nearly every- 
 thing that he wore at the time had been given to 
 him by Brother Skinner and other brethren eleven 
 years before, when he went to China. The effect 
 was overwhelming. No one could be found who 
 would confess that he had said anything about Mr. 
 Yates' style of dress." He was always neat in his 
 personal appearance, but also very careful and 
 frugal, and he did not believe that home Christians 
 should delegate all the self-denial to the missionaries. 
 
 Just after his return to China the Civil War broke 
 out at home. He was then in the thick of the work 
 in Shanghai. The war destroyed the ability of the 
 South to maintain its missionaries, and Dr. Yates 
 had to find some way of self-support. The municipal 
 council of the foreign community and the United 
 States consulate offered him work as an interpreter, 
 and in this way he supported his family and also 
 the mission until the end of the war. In this posi-
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 131 
 
 tion he won still further the honor and respect of 
 the whole community. The work did not take much 
 of his time and it left him free to go on with his 
 preaching. In 1864 he visited Europe, where he 
 won the lasting interest of all whom he met, and 
 the following year returned to China, to which he 
 henceforth always referred as *'home." '*It seems 
 to be the will of the Lord that I should wear out 
 here/' he wrote. He began to feel now that he had 
 at last learned the secret of the Chinese heart. About 
 the methods of the work he had strong convictions, 
 as he said at the Shanghai Missionary Conference 
 in 1871 : 
 
 *'To secure an aggressive native church, there 
 are some things which I regard as fundamental : 
 
 "i. A converted and evangelical membership. To 
 admit any other element into our churches, even 
 though they may be persons of wealth or influence 
 as scholars, is to paralyze the whole church. 
 
 "2. They should be taught that when they em- 
 brace Christianity they become the disciples of Jesus 
 Christ, and not the disciples of the missionary. 
 
 **3. As they become the disciples of Jesus they 
 should become thoroughly acquainted with his teach- 
 ings in the language in which they think and speak. 
 They should be encouraged to commit to memory 
 precious and practical portions of the New Testa-
 
 132 Servants of the King 
 
 ment In the spoken language of their particular 
 locality. 
 
 "4. They should be taught the individuality of 
 their religion, that they are personally responsible 
 to God ; that they can and ought to exert a personal 
 influence in behalf of the religion which they profess. 
 
 ''We need to take hold and show them how it 
 should be done. This will be easy to do, for the 
 Chinese are good imitators, and example is a good 
 teacher. And at first, if they need a little aid, we 
 should render it, for nothing is so encouraging as 
 success. We should strive to avoid the depressing 
 influence of failure. And let it be ever borne in 
 mind that we need not expect our native preachers 
 to be as aggressive as ourselves." 
 
 With characteristic large-mindedness and courage, 
 Dr. Yates wrote, about thirty years ago : 'T have 
 surveyed and studied a line of attack for the 
 Southern Baptists; that is, the line of the great 
 River Yang-tzu to the Ssu-ch'uan Province in 
 the west." Later on, with more detail, he gave the 
 following outline of his plans and labors : 'Tn due 
 time, with Shanghai as a base of operations, I chose 
 Su-chou, on the Grand Canal, and Chin-chiang,at the 
 junction of the Grand Canal with the Yang-tzu 
 River, as the great centers for a great work, when 
 the men should be found to occupy them. These 
 three cities, from a commercial point of view, domi-
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 133 
 
 nate a population of more than twenty million souls. 
 They are situated in the form of a right-angled tri- 
 angle ; the Grand Canal forming one side ; an equally 
 grand canal from Shanghai to Su-chou forming the 
 other side ; while the Yang-tzu River is the hypoth- 
 enuse of the triangle. From Shanghai to Su-chou 
 is eighty-five miles; from Su-chou to Chin-chiang 
 is one hundred and twenty-seven miles ; from Chin- 
 chiang to Shanghai is one hundred and fifty-seven 
 miles by the river." 
 
 From constant preaching, his voice failed him. 
 He had overtaxed it, and for years to come his 
 struggle was to recover its use. He came to 
 America and visited Europe and went to great 
 doctors, and at last he was able with care to re- 
 sume the full activity in which he delighted. Dur- 
 ing these years he was for a time the American 
 vice-consul-general in Shanghai, using the money 
 he received to build chapels and advance the work, 
 but when offered the position of consul-general he 
 refused and resigned at the same time the office of 
 vice-consul. "I could not accept it," he said, "with- 
 out giving up my missionary work — my life-work. 
 No of^ce, no gift of the government, could induce 
 me to do that while I am able to preach and translate. 
 I resigned, therefore, the honors and the emolu- 
 ment." 
 
 Dr. Yates had met all difificulties triumphantly so
 
 134 Servants of the King 
 
 far, and had turned them to good. His failure of 
 eyesight led him to become a master of the common 
 speech of the people. The failure of his voice led 
 him to throw burdens on the native Church which 
 strengthened it. The war cut off supplies from 
 home, and he earned more upon the field than he 
 had been receiving and applied it to the work. And 
 now he began to suffer from an affliction for which 
 he had nine surgical operations, so he turned to 
 Bible translation, and the result was the translation 
 of the New Testament into the spoken language of 
 many millions. Only his robust physique enabled 
 him to stand all this strain. He had always taken 
 care of his health. As he wrote to a missionary can- 
 didate : "The first qualification of a foreign mission- 
 ary is to be a good animal. You may be furnished 
 with a first-class instrument, but w^ithout physical 
 strength to wield it, it would be of little service to 
 you. Therefore, guard your health with sedulous 
 care as to the Lord. Live well and take regular 
 €xercise. Play lawn tennis, notwithstanding what 
 the drones may say about such sports for a candi- 
 date for the foreign mission field. We are not 
 bound to observe the austerity of life that a super- 
 stitious public is too ready to prescribe. The Scrip- 
 tures prescribe no such austerity. Exercise in the 
 open air is necessary to secure health of body and 
 mind and to preserve youthful spirits. From the
 
 Matthew Tyson Yates 135 
 
 time I entered college until I graduated, I was in 
 the habit of running two miles every morning at 
 four o'clock. Even now, I walk my two miles a day. 
 I am in splendid health, for which I am profoundly 
 thankful." 
 
 Calls came to him from America to return to 
 positions of influence here, but he would not Hsten. 
 "I could not come down/' he wrote, "from the 
 position of an ambassador for Christ to an empire, 
 to become president of a college or to accept any 
 other position in the gift of the people of the United 
 States." He drove straight on in his own work and 
 sought to hearten others who were discouraged. "A 
 few days ago," he wrote at the age of sixty-seven, 
 *'I wrote to Mr. Devault, who is ill at Tung-chou, 
 urging him to maintain, in addition to strong con- 
 victions in regard to his work, an indomitable will 
 to do what Christ had commanded him to do, and 
 then leave the whole matter of health in the Lord's 
 hands. I gave him a prescription from my own 
 experience. During my first years in China, I was 
 so run down by ague and fever that I thought that 
 my work was finished. I came before the Lord in 
 this wise: 'O Lord, if it be thy will that my work 
 end now, thy will be done. If it is thy will that 
 my strength be restored to work for thee in this land 
 of darkness, behold thy servant for all time.' The 
 decades that have passed show that the Lord was
 
 136 Servants of the King 
 
 only harnessing me up for a forty-year trot at the 
 rate of 2.20. There is Hfe and protection in strong 
 convictions, indomitable will, and faith in God. This 
 life, this protection against temptation and spiritual 
 deadness, is available to all Christians in every con- 
 dition of hfe." 
 
 But the strong life could not last forever, and 
 at the age of sixty-nine he died at Chin-chiang, 
 where he had gone to build a new chapel. "So much 
 work," he said as he lay sick with his last illness, 
 *'and I can't do any of it." ''God can have it done," 
 said an associate. "But God needs men," was his 
 answer. After forty-one years in Shanghai God 
 met him and took him. "I am ready to go," he was 
 able to say before the end, "if God wants me. I 
 should like to live and work longer, but I am ready." 
 So he passed forward, his little church in Shanghai 
 mourning for him. *'We have lost our good shep- 
 herd," they said, "and the flock is bleating."
 
 ISABELLA THOBURN 
 
 •37
 
 The power of educated womanhood is simply the power of 
 skilled service. We are not in the world to be ministered 
 unto, but to minister. The world is full of need, and every 
 opportunity to help is a duty. 
 
 — Isabella T hob urn 
 
 z-S
 
 cv 
 
 ^y^cyU-z<y^t^t^ —
 
 VIII 
 ISABELLA THOBURN 
 
 FORTY years ago a missionary was traveling 
 and preaching among the villages in Rohil- 
 khand, India. One day, when his tent was pitched 
 in a mango orchard, he went out for a walk in the 
 shade of the trees. In the broken tops of one of 
 the trees a vulture had built her nest, and passing 
 near the place the missionary picked up a quill which 
 had fallen from her wing. Taking out his pen- 
 knife he cut the quill into a pen, and as it looked 
 like a good pen, although it was very big, he went 
 into his tent to see if he could write with it. He 
 found that it would write very well, and he thought 
 it would interest his sister, far away in America, if 
 he wrote to her with his strange pen. So he wrote 
 with the vulture's quill a description of the work 
 he was doing in the villages, and told her of the 
 great need of a boarding-school at some central 
 place where the girls from the villages could come 
 and be trained for future usefulness, and then be 
 sent back to carry light to their darkened homes. 
 
 139
 
 140 Servants of the King 
 
 The big pen asked, at the close of the letter, and the 
 question was almost thoughtless, "How would you 
 like to come and take charge of such a school ?" By 
 the first steamer which could bring a reply the sister's 
 answer came, that she would leave for India just 
 as soon as the way was opened for her to do so. 
 
 That was the way the call came to Isabella Tho- 
 burn. But she would not have heard it if she had 
 not been ready for it. Many things had been making 
 her ready. God had given her the right ancestry. 
 Her Scotch-Irish parents had come to America from 
 Belfast in 1825, fifteen years before Isabella was 
 born, and settled near St. Clairsville, Ohio, where 
 the five sisters and five brothers spent a happy child- 
 hood. Her father died when she was ten years old, 
 but not before his great strength of character, his 
 fear of God, and his courageous devotion to the right 
 had made a deep impression on the child. Her 
 mother was "a woman of clear convictions, prompt 
 decision, and extraordinary courage. One day, when 
 alone with one of her daughters, a maniac rushed 
 into the room, brandishing an ax in a state of great 
 excitement. The daughter was almost paralyzed 
 with terror, but the mother spoke kindly to him, con- 
 tinued at her work, and in a minute or two asked 
 him to let her take his ax, which he at once gave up, 
 and very soon he became docile as a child. Her 
 moral courage was not less marked than her physical,
 
 Isabella Thoburn 141 
 
 and her general character was that of a strong but 
 tender and sympathetic woman." In all this Isabella 
 reproduced her mother, and when, years later, she 
 laid aside her work and nursed a smallpox patient 
 in Lucknow she justified herself by appealing to her 
 mother's example, who night after night had cared 
 for a poor neighbor sick with the same disease, with- 
 out one thought of fear for herself or her children. 
 It was a sincere and consecrated home in which the 
 child grew up. When the farm was at last paid for, 
 the father brought home the last note and two gold 
 eagles. One of these ''he tossed into the mother's 
 lap and said : That is for a new winter cloak for 
 you ; let us give the other as a thank-offering at the 
 missionary collection.' The mother handed back the 
 coin and said : 'Let us give both as a thank-offer- 
 ing; / will turn my old cloak/ " 
 
 Isabella was sent to the district school, about a 
 mile from her home, when she was quite young, but 
 she did not take a special interest in her work. In 
 later years she said that she had not really awakened 
 intellectually until she was sixteen years of age. 
 .When she was ten she narrowly escaped death from 
 a savage attack of a big dog, which a grov/n-up 
 brother beat off with a spade, but not before it had 
 fearfully lacerated her arm. At fifteen she entered 
 the Wheeling Female Seminary, West Virginia. 
 She often lamented later the time she had wasted,
 
 142 Servants of the King 
 
 as she thought, in these years on music, for which 
 she had no taste. After leaving the seminary she 
 taught a summer school and met with success from 
 the beginning. Dissatisfied with her preparation, 
 she returned to the Wheeling seminary, added a 
 year of art-study in the Cincinnati Academy of De- 
 sign, and then returned to teaching. In March, 
 1859, her brother, who wrote her the letter with the 
 vulture's quill in 1866, and who afterward became 
 Bishop Thoburn, went to India as a missionary. 
 
 The seven years after her brother's going, before 
 his letter to her from Rohilkhand, were spent in 
 teaching, in caring for her invalid and widowed 
 sister-in-law and her three little boys, and in a gen- 
 eral preparation for the great work before her, of 
 which as yet she did not know. In 1869, however, 
 the official call came, and the way, for which 
 in 1866 she wrote that she must wait, was opened. 
 She and Miss Clara A. Swain, M.D., were appointed 
 the first missionaries of the newly established Wom- 
 an's Foreign Missionary Society of the Methodist 
 Episcopal Church. They sailed from New York 
 in the fall of 1869 in the steamer Nevada and ar- 
 rived in Bombay January 7, 1870. They were 
 just in time for the annual conference of the 
 Methodist missionaries. Miss Swain was assigned 
 to Bareilly to begin the first medical missionary 
 work for women by women in India, and Miss Tho-
 
 Isabella Thoburn 143 
 
 burn was stationed at Lucknow, which was to be her 
 home and the seat of her greatest work. She saw 
 at once the bright side of the new conditions of life, 
 and she never wrote and seldom spoke of the dis- 
 comforts or "trials" of missionary work in India. 
 
 She set herself at once, in her quiet, direct, positive 
 way, to build up her girls' school for the training 
 especially of Christian girls to make them capable 
 of helping and teaching others. The converts were 
 few and most of them poor. Some people doubted 
 whether the time had come for Miss Thoburn's 
 scheme, but she resolutely began with six girls on 
 the morning of April 18, 1870. Two of the six 
 were Eurasians — half European, half Asiatic — for 
 the great revival due to William Taylor's visit to 
 India greatly enlarged the field of work among this 
 class. Very soon Miss Thoburn bought one of the 
 best properties in the city, which had been occupied 
 by an opponent of her plans, and had in this place, 
 known as Lai Bagh, or Ruby Garden, an ample home 
 and place for her work for all her life in India. Six 
 years later she started another school for English 
 girls at Cawnpur, forty-five miles to the west of 
 Lucknow, and for some time she managed both 
 schools, going to and fro by night. 
 
 After ten years of solid and faithful work, Miss 
 Thoburn came home on furlough. She had always 
 shrunk from speaking in public, but in Peabody,
 
 144 Servants of the King 
 
 Kansas, she was invited to speak in a Presbyterian 
 church. "In her earher years," writes Bishop Tho- 
 burn, "she had never known or heard of such a thing 
 as a woman speaking in a Presbyterian church, and 
 now she was confronted by a request, which would 
 brook no denial, to deliver an address in an orthodox 
 church of that denomination. She could not refuse, 
 and yet w^ould not consent; but finally, by way of 
 compromise, she proposed to take a seat in front 
 and answer any questions which might be asked. 
 'I cannot give an address,' she said, 'but I am will- 
 ing to give information by answering questions, and 
 in this way I can find out exactly what you wish to 
 know.' This plan was followed, with the result 
 which might have been anticipated. Question fol- 
 lowed question; the replies became somewhat 
 lengthy, and before very long it seemed necessary 
 for the speaker to rise from her chair in order to 
 be better heard in all parts of the church. Thus it 
 came to pass that she found herself, almost before 
 she realized it, standing in a Presbyterian church 
 and dehvering an address to an audience on Sunday 
 afternoon. Before the meeting closed she realized 
 what had happened. She had crossed her Rubicon, 
 and any one who knew her would have known that 
 she had crossed never to return. She accepted the 
 new responsibility cheerfully, and said to her new 
 friends : Tf there is anything wrong about this,
 
 Isabella Thoburn 145 
 
 you must bear me witness that the Presbyterians 
 are responsible for it.' " She was soon in demand 
 everywhere, and ever afterward was one of the most 
 acceptable and effective of missionary speakers. She 
 was never pretentious nor excited, but always ear- 
 nest, calmly intense, and so direct and practical that 
 no one heard her without feeling the power of her 
 personality. She made notable addresses at great 
 missionary conferences in India, and at the Ecumen- 
 ical Missionary Conference in New York in 1900, 
 and those who heard her speak will never forget her 
 quiet but overpowering presentation of the needs 
 of the women of India. 
 
 On returning to India, in 1882, she began to 
 develop her school into a college, and did not rest 
 until it became the highest-g;rade institution for 
 Christian women in India. ' *'In America," she said 
 in one of her appeals, "we realize the importance of 
 placing people in colleges which are under direct 
 Christian influence. Much more is it important in 
 a heathen land, where new thought awakened under 
 secular instruction runs toward infidelity; where the 
 doubts and speculations of all the ages are alive and 
 at war with faith; where blind belief in the false 
 makes the truth a stumbling-block ; and where wom- 
 en who are being set free from the restraints of old 
 customs must be surrounded by restraints of prin- 
 ciple, or their cause is lost, and with it the hope of
 
 146 Servants of the King 
 
 regeneration for their people. The need of India 
 to-day is a leadership from among her own people ; 
 leadership, not of impulsive enthusiasm, or of preju- 
 dice, but of matured judgment and conscientious 
 conviction. Part of our work as missionaries is to 
 educate and train the character that can lead, and 
 it is to accomplish this that we formed our first 
 woman's college in the Eastern world. There are 
 over one hundred colleges in India for young men, 
 but only one for young women, and that not Chris- 
 tian. Think what efforts we would make if there 
 were only one college for women in America, and, 
 in some measure, let us recognize the universal sister- 
 hood, and make like efforts for the women of India." 
 Before her plans were all carried out, failing 
 health sent her home again in 1886. On the way 
 home she read The Life of Robert and Mary Moffat, 
 the great missionaries in South Africa whose daugh- 
 ter married David Livingstone. She wrote of it: 
 "In the light of their zeal and unfailing devotion, of 
 their sacrifices — which were worthy the name indeed, 
 though they did not call them so — of their faith in 
 the face of difficulties we never dream of, our poor 
 work seems scarcely worthy of mention, not worthy 
 to be compared to theirs. The book is a simple 
 record of real life, but it is a sacred romance, 
 though the principal actors never dreamed that 
 they were uncommon people or the heroes we see
 
 Isabella Thoburn 147 
 
 them to be. As we close the record it is with an in- 
 tense longing for the true martyr spirit, that can, not 
 only give life for a cause or a truth, but can do more, 
 can give living service; nor counting anything 
 dear, but consecrating all and maintaining the con- 
 secration with unfaltering heroism, an intense long- 
 ing begins to be felt for an outpouring of the Holy 
 Spirit upon the Church, by which her sons and 
 daughters will be anointed with power, with true 
 heroism, and sent abroad over all the dark places of 
 the earth. We count the missionaries we have sent 
 out, the dollars we have given, the schools we have 
 opened, and then congratulate ourselves that we 
 have done well; but, dear sisters, in the great day, 
 the Svell done,' spoken to women like Mary Moffat, 
 will put to shame our easy service and show us what 
 might have been accomplished if we had 'done w^hat 
 we could.' " 
 
 In this spirit she threw herself into work at 
 home so long as she was kept there. She became 
 house mother of the New Deaconess Home in 
 Chicago, then organized similar work in Cincinnati, 
 and began it in Boston, always showing forth every- 
 where the spirit of service, which she believed was 
 the fundam.ental thing in Christianity, and which 
 she urged upon all young women as the great ideal 
 of life. 'The call comes to-day," she said, ''and 
 would that all who sit at ease, and yet long for the
 
 148 Servants of the King 
 
 heart's rest they have not ; all who spend upon them- 
 selves their thought and strength ; all who build like 
 the insect their own houses of clay in which they 
 can only perish — would that all these knew the 
 blessedness of service to every creature for whom 
 Christ died, whether in African deserts or islands of 
 the sea! So many seek places where others crowd 
 in before them;, while there is room for all, far out 
 and far down, and there need be no Christian woman 
 in all this happy land who cannot find a place in 
 which to serve our common Master with a glad and 
 willing heart." 
 
 In 1890 she returned to India and was reappointed 
 principal of the Woman's College at Lucknow. She 
 took hold again with her wonted wisdom and energy. 
 "One of the first things she did was to give up her 
 own cool and quiet room for the noisy quarters of 
 the matron in the center of the boarding-house," says 
 a former pupil who was there at the time, 'Svhile 
 the matron was allowed to occupy a room at one 
 end of the same building, and to continue her work 
 as usual. We can now understand that this was done 
 to check a certain laxity in the management of the 
 girls, without offending any of the parties, which is 
 often the case in other schools when a reform is 
 undertaken by a new lady principal. 
 
 ''When Miss Thoburn rang the rising-bell witH 
 her own hands, the girls did not find it hard to
 
 Isabella Thoburn 149 
 
 rise early; when she made her own bed and dusted 
 the things in her room, the girls felt that their 
 special duty was even to sweep their rooms and 
 keep them neat and tidy; when she wrote her busi- 
 ness letters, it was the most natural thing for 
 everybody to be quiet, and also during the rest- 
 hour, and so on. The matron, too, received much 
 help. The storeroom was kept in good order, 
 and the meals of the girls were properly attended 
 to, because she went into the kitchen at least 
 once a day and peeped into the storeroom every 
 now and then; the sweepers were well watched, be- 
 cause she went around the w^hole place to see if it 
 was clean; the sick girls were nursed with much 
 care and patience, because she had the worst cases 
 in her own room, and sat up nights with them — and 
 so on through the whole routine of duty. And even 
 when she went back to her own room in the main 
 building after several months, she still kept most 
 of the work under her own personal supervision. In 
 the school building, too, there was much skill in the 
 methods of teaching and keeping discipline, because 
 Miss Thoburn herself taught the most difficult sub- 
 jects, and also some of the least promising classes. 
 All this was done with a quiet dignity which in- 
 spired both love and awe in all around her, and 
 grown-up people were struck with the wisdom which 
 guided her to do all things without offending." Miss
 
 150 Servants of the King 
 
 Thoburn was not the kind to talk and expect others 
 to do. She led others to do by herself doing. 
 
 Her supreme qualities were her unboastful but 
 all-dominating love and her plain, firm sense of duty. 
 "Every missionary candidate should learn hy heart, 
 in the deepest sense," she wrote to young women 
 looking forward to the mission field, ''that golden 
 thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians." She liked 
 the deaconess work because it led women into sim- 
 ple, faithful duty-doing in Christ's service. ''Be- 
 fore I left India in 1886," she wrote, "I had become 
 convinced of two things that we have since thought 
 important factors in our deaconess system : first, that 
 while there is so much to be done in the world it is 
 impossible to accomplish it all, or the large part of 
 it, by salaried work ; and, next, that life is not long 
 enough, nor money plentiful enough, to spend much 
 of either on the clothes we wear." Her absolute 
 unselfishness and sincerity combined with her tire- 
 less energy and great practical wisdom to make her 
 a master missionary. 
 
 The equipment and development of the college 
 laid heavy burdens on her, and her last visit home, 
 in 1900, was to raise money for the immediate needs 
 of the institution. She and Miss Lilavati Singh, one 
 of her pupils, met with complete success on this 
 errand. The object-lesson of her work in India seen 
 in Miss Singh was itself the most convincing of
 
 Isabella Thoburn 151 
 
 arguments. It was at a dinner in New York at the 
 time of the Ecumenical Conference, after Miss Singh 
 had spoken, that ex-President Harrison rose, with 
 tears on his cheeks, and said: *'If I had ever had 
 a million dollars and had spent it all on foreign 
 missions and this young woman were the only re- 
 sult, I should feel amply repaid for my investment." 
 And the crowning evidence of the reality of Miss 
 Thoburn's work was found in the fact that all the 
 praise Miss Singh received did not in the least spoil 
 her or turn her head. 
 
 Together they went back to India, in May, 1900. 
 On the way Miss Thoburn began to feel that her 
 work was done, and the feeling deepened after she 
 reached India. In a little more than two months 
 the end, which she knew was near, came, and she 
 died of cholera in Lucknow on September ist. The 
 life here was done, but it had achieved its victory, 
 "Here was a rich and powerful government," said 
 a missionary of another denomination, ^'anxious to 
 promote the cause of female education, on the one 
 hand, and a Christian woman without money, pres- 
 tige, or other resources, on the other. Both had the 
 same object in view and both were in the same field, 
 but the lone missionary worker succeeded, while the 
 powerful government met with comparative failure. 
 The w^hole case is simply a marvel. It is a picture 
 worthy of the most serious study." What was the
 
 152 Servants of the King 
 
 secret? Miss Singh found it in one of Miss Tho- 
 burn's favorite Bible verses: 'That in all things 
 he might have the preeminence." "I am a poor crea- 
 ture/' Miss Thoburn wrote, "yet no matter; for in 
 Christ I can work, and if I were strong and wise 
 I could do nothing without him." Whoever has 
 learned that lesson has gained the secret of strength 
 and wisdom. Have we learned it?
 
 JAMES ROBERTSON 
 
 «53
 
 God has given us an opportunity which we dare not neglect. 
 
 —'James Robertson 
 
 154 
 
 i
 
 C:^ ^^^.-i.-^-r^
 
 IX 
 
 JAMES ROBERTSON 
 
 SHE was a little woman," said one of Christina 
 Robertson's daughters. ''There was nothing 
 that any woman could do that she could not do, and 
 when it was done it needed no second doing." James 
 Robertson was his mother's own son. He was born 
 on April 24, 1839, in the little village of Dull in 
 the valley of the Tay in Scotland. He was an 
 even-tempered boy and self-controlled, but, as his 
 schoolmaster said, he was a ''terrible fighter when 
 fighting had to be done." Whatever he once took 
 a grip of he never let go. When he w^as sixteen a 
 problem in arithmetic that had given some trouble 
 in the college at Edinburgh was sent down to the 
 master at Dull. "If any of them can solve it," said 
 he, "it will be Robertson." So to Robertson he gave 
 it, and the lad "took it home and fell upon it." 
 When his father was going to bed that night he said 
 to his boy, "Are you not comin' to your bed, lad?" 
 "Yes, after a while," replied the boy, hardly look- 
 ing up from his slate. But when next morning the 
 
 155
 
 156 Servants of the King 
 
 father came in to light the fire, James rose from the 
 spot where he had been left sitting the night before, 
 with the solution of the problem in his hands. 
 
 The family was very poor, and all that he had 
 James Robertson's father lost in the terrible storm 
 which buried Tayside under snow in 1854 and ruined 
 many a small sheep farmer. The times that fol- 
 lowed were so hard that the family decided to leave 
 Scotland and try their fortune in Canada. In 1855 
 they sailed on the George Roger and settled in East 
 Oxford, Ontario. That part of Ontario was then 
 forest wilderness, and the family spent their fi.rst 
 summer in enlarging the clearing on their farm. 
 The following winter James and his brother chopped 
 cord-wood and hauled it to the neighboring village 
 of Woodstock, and the next summer worked again 
 on the farm, but for a few weeks he walked night 
 and morning a distance of six miles to attend school 
 at Woodstock. He tried at once for a teacher's 
 certificate, which he secured, and got a country 
 school at the age of eighteen. There was much 
 whisky-drinking in those days and James became a 
 firm and zealous advocate of total abstinence. He 
 W'as an earnest Christian boy, also walking to and 
 from Woodstock twice each Sunday in order to be 
 present at both morning and evening services and 
 he connected himself with the Chalmers Church in 
 Woodstock.
 
 James Robertson 157 
 
 From the country school where he first taught, 
 Robertson went in 1859 to ^ larger school near 
 Innerkip. He is still remembered by those who were 
 his pupils there. "He was afraid of nothing," 
 writes one of them, "man, beast, or devil. There 
 was a fractious colt on the farm where he boarded 
 which none of us dared to handle. Robertson 
 mastered him and rendered him tractable." "What 
 seemed to others impossible," said another, "that 
 was the thing that had a peculiar charm for him." 
 Here at Innerkip he met the young woman whom 
 he married. The task of winning her was not easy, 
 but that made it only the more uplifting to him and 
 he prevailed. It was twelve long years, however, 
 before they could be married. For three years he 
 taught the Innerkip school and then went off to the 
 University of Toronto. His clothes were not of 
 the latest fashion and he was a sober student, but 
 no one could help respecting him. As one student 
 said of him, "Though he wore his trousers at high- 
 water mark, and though his hats were wonderful to 
 behold and his manners abrupt and uncouth, still 
 *Jeemsie,' as he was dubbed by the irreverent, com- 
 manded the respect of the giddiest of the lot for his 
 fine heart and for his power of pungent speech, for 
 he would fire words at you hke a cannon-ball. And 
 for the ridicule of the boys, Jeemsie cared not a 
 tinker's curse." He joined the University Corps of
 
 158 'Servants of the King 
 
 the Queen's Own Rifles and saw some fighting when 
 a fellow student was shot down beside him in the 
 Fenian Raid of 1866. 
 
 After his university course he went to Princeton 
 Theological Seminary, the opportunities at that time 
 in the States being better than in Canada. After 
 two years at Princeton he went to New York to 
 Union Seminary to finish his course and then took 
 charge of a downtown mission, where he made so 
 great a success that the committee and Dr. John Hall 
 tried to persuade him to stay and work in New 
 York, but his duty, as he saw it, led him back to his 
 own adopted country. After being married, Sep- 
 tember 2^, 1869, he settled for five years in Norwich, 
 Ontario. He was a fine, strong preacher and 
 pastor, and what was more, a fine, strong man. It 
 is related how on a Sabbath evening, after he had 
 begun his service, the fire-bell rang. At once Mr. 
 Robertson dismissed the congregation, for fire pro- 
 tection there w^as none, unless such as could be pro- 
 vided by the bucket-brigade. It was discovered that 
 a neighboring hotel was on fire. Immediately the 
 minister took command of the situation, organized 
 the crowd, and by dint of the most strenuous exer- 
 tions had the fire suppressed. In gratitude for his 
 services, and in sympathy with his exhausted con- 
 dition, the hotel-keeper brought him a bottle of 
 brandy with which to refresh himself. "Never will
 
 James Robertson 159 
 
 I forget," writes another member of his congrega- 
 tion, "the manner in which he seized that brandy 
 bottle by the neck, swung it around his head, and 
 dashed it against the brick wall, exclaiming as he 
 did so, 'That's a fire that can never be put out.' " 
 
 Far to the west a great new country had been 
 opening up. At first it was thought to be a waste 
 land, but in 1870 the troops returning from the 
 suppression of the Northwest rebellion, under Louis 
 Riel, a half-breed Indian, "the officers who com- 
 manded, the politicians and shrewd business men 
 who followed in their wake, all came back enthusias- 
 tic immigration agents." Then began the tidal 
 waves of immigration which flooded this great 
 Western country with men hungry for land. And 
 the churches came in after them. 
 
 They did not come as fast as they should have 
 come, however, and at the close of the year 1873 
 Robertson responded to an appeal to go out to preach 
 in the new Knox Church in Winnipeg, the raw but 
 growing capital of the province of Manitoba. It was 
 a long, rough winter journey. There was no trans- 
 continental railroad in Canada and Robertson went 
 out by way of Detroit, Chicago, and St. Paul. From 
 Breckenridge, the end of the railway from St. Paul, 
 it took four days to get through to Winnipeg. There 
 he found a long, straggling street of shacks and 
 stores, huddled on the bleak prairie around the big
 
 i6o Servants of the King 
 
 stone fort of the Hudson Bay Company and a great 
 country soon to be filled with men, and also a divided 
 church. He settled down to his task, and the six 
 months lengthened out to cover the rest of his life. 
 The church called him to stay, and he sent for his 
 family and stayed. 
 
 In the new land with its fierce winters he had 
 a full experience. "Once during the w^inter of 
 1877 he went to Stony Mountain to perform a 
 marriage ceremony. On his return a storm came 
 up with startling suddenness. The sun was shin- 
 ing brightly and there was no appearance of a 
 storm, when Mr. Robertson noticed a great white 
 cloud like snow rolling along near the ground, while 
 the sky still remained clear. In another instant the 
 storm was upon him, a blizzard so blinding that the 
 horse stopped, turned round, and left the trail. With 
 a great deal of difficulty he got the horse back to 
 the road, unhitched it from the cutter, took off the 
 harness and let it go, then set off himself to fight 
 his way through the stormi. A short distance from 
 Kildonan he overtook a man hauling a load of wood 
 who had lost his way, and who was almost insensible 
 from cold and fatigue. He turned the horses loose 
 and took the man with him to a house in Kildonan. 
 After half an hour's rest he set off again for Winni- 
 peg, for he had left his wife sick in bed and well 
 knew she would be in terror for him. So once more
 
 James Robertson i6i 
 
 he faced the bhzzard, and after two hours' struggle 
 he reached his home." 
 
 In 1 88 1 he left the pastorate to accept the newly 
 created post of superintendent of home missions 
 for ]\Ianitoba and the Northwest. He set off at 
 once on his first missionary tour, driving two thou- 
 sand miles, at first through heat and dust and rain 
 and then through frosts and blizzards. He preached 
 where he could, and was not to be discouraged by 
 any situation. Once coming to a settlement late on 
 a Saturday evening where the largest building was 
 the hotel and the largest room the bar, he inquired 
 of the hotel man : 
 
 ''Is there any place where I can hold a service 
 to-morrow ?" 
 
 "Service?" 
 
 *'Yes, a preaching service." 
 
 'Treaching? Oh, yes, I'll get you one," he re- 
 plied with genial heartiness. 
 
 Next day Air. Robertson came into the bar, which 
 was crowded with men. 
 
 ''Well, have you found a room for my service?" 
 he inquired of his genial host. 
 
 "Here you are, boss, right here. Get in behind 
 that bar and here's your crowd. Give it to 'em. 
 God knows they need it." 
 
 Mr. Robertson caught the wink intended for the 
 boys only. Behind the bar were bottles and kegs
 
 1 62 Servants of the King 
 
 and other implements of the trade; before it men 
 standing up for their drinks, chaffing, laughing, 
 swearing. The atmosphere could hardly be called 
 congenial, but the missionary was "onto his job," 
 as the boys afterwards admiringly said. He gave out 
 a hymn. Some of the men took off their hats and 
 joined in the singing, one or two whistling an ac- 
 companiment. As he was getting into his sermon 
 one of the men, evidently the smart one of the com- 
 pany, broke in: 
 
 "Say, boss," he drawled, "I like yer nerve, but 
 I don't believe yer talk." 
 
 "All right," replied Mr. Robertson, "give me a 
 chance. When I get through you can ask any ques- 
 tions you like. If I can I will answer them, if I 
 can't I'll do my best." 
 
 The reply appealed to the sense of fair play in the 
 crowd. They speedily shut up their companion and 
 told the missionary to "fire ahead," which he did, 
 and to such good purpose that when he had finished 
 there was no one ready to gibe or question. After 
 the service was closed, however, one of them ob- 
 served earnestly: 
 
 "I believe every word you said, sir. I haven't 
 heard anything like that since I was a kid, from my 
 Sunday-school teacher. I guess I gave her a pretty 
 hard time. But look here, can't you send us a mis-
 
 James Robertson 163 
 
 sionary for ourselves? We'll chip in, won't we, 
 boys?" 
 
 One of his first concerns was to raise a Church 
 and Manse Building Fund. So well did he work at 
 persuading money out of even the most unsympa- 
 thetic that, when he laid down the work twenty 
 years later, the fund had assisted in the erection of 
 419 churches, 90 manses, and 4 schoolhouses, and 
 had put the Church in possession of property valued 
 at $603,835. 
 
 The railroad had crossed the Red River and 
 entered Winnipeg in 1881, and thence had pressed 
 steadily westward. The inflowing tide of immigra- 
 tion had taken up the land along the road and then 
 pressed outward into the country on either side. 
 The people along the road were easily accessible, but 
 Robertson was not content to reach these alone. 
 He was after all, and he went everywhere look- 
 ing for them. And he took what experience came 
 in the way of his duty. Of one night, typical 
 of many, a companion wrote : 
 
 "That night was spent in 'a stopping-place,' and 
 Dr. Robertson and I roomed together in a small 
 bedroom off the sitting-room. We roomed together, 
 but we slept not, neither did we lie down to rest. 
 A hurried inspection revealed the fact that the bed 
 was preempted by the living pest which a man 
 shakes not off, as in the morning he crawls from
 
 164 Servants of the King 
 
 under the bedclothing. We determined to keep the 
 lire in the sitting-room going, and so maintain a 
 degree of comfort during the winter night. But 
 some parties, by making a bed beside the sitting- 
 room stove, spoiled our plan and imprisoned us in 
 our room for the night. We walked the floor, we 
 jumped, and, if not very artistically, at least with 
 some vigor, we danced, that the temperature of the 
 body might be maintained at a considerably higher 
 degree than the temperature of the room. The night 
 passed, and so did the breakfast hour, and we started 
 on our twelve-mile drive." 
 
 "To-night," he wrote himself of another stopping- 
 place, "we are to lodge in a place 7x12 feet, parti- 
 tioned off from the stable. A lot of hay covers the 
 floor, a rusty stove is standing in the corner, which, 
 with a rickety table, constitute the furniture. We 
 found a lantern which will answer for a light. The 
 side is quite airy, the boards having shrunk a good 
 deal. But I have a good tuque, or nightcap, and I 
 hope to keep warm enough. I have two buffalo-robes, 
 two pairs of blankets, and other appliances that will 
 likely keep me comfortable. Three teams besides our 
 own drove in here just now, and are going to remain 
 all night. I think the room will afford sufficient 
 accommodation to enable us to lie down. To-mor- 
 row we expect to make Humboldt at six." 
 
 In the first five years he established on the
 
 mv. JAMES ROBERTSON D.D. 
 ©39 - 1302 
 
 *»ASTOa Of NORWICH iSSS - 1874 
 
 FiftST Pastor or knox Church. Winnipes 
 I tS74 — 1881 
 
 Sl»»f:RfNT£NDeNT Of WtSTERN Mestows 
 l8Bf — 1902. 
 
 
 JAME3 Robertson's grave ix the kildoxax churchyard, maxitoba
 
 James Robertson 165 
 
 average one preaching station a week. His first 
 report showed a communicant roll of 1,355 for all 
 the West ; the report for 1887 showed 5,623. When 
 he came to his field the Presbytery of Manitoba had 
 knowledge of only 971 families. In a single year 
 he discovered 1,000 more and placed these formerly 
 unknown and isolated families in church homes, 
 and during the five years he discovered and set in 
 Church relation over 3,000 Presbyterian families. 
 W^hen he took into his hands the reins of superin- 
 tendency, he found in all the West some fifteen 
 churches. Before five years were over there were 
 nearly 100. In attaining these results, he wanted 
 men who would work and not whine. 
 
 "I rem.ember him telling me," a minister relates, 
 "of a student whose zeal was less than his indolence. 
 He was in charge of a mission somewhere near 
 Regina, and lived in rooms which were attached to 
 the church. Dr. Robertson drove over one morning, 
 knowing that he was due to preach in an outlying 
 station ten miles away at eleven o'clock. 
 
 "I knocked at the outer door at ten o'clock, sir, 
 and when I got no answer I concluded that he had 
 started on his journey. However, I opened the door 
 and walked in. I went upstairs and rapped on the 
 door of his bedroom. I heard a sleepy voice say, 
 'Come in/ and I opened the door and found him yet
 
 1 66 Servants of the King 
 
 in bed. He preached that morning without his 
 breakfast, sir." 
 
 "Talking with a whining student one day," says 
 another, "who was relating what he considered hard- 
 ships in the way of uncomfortable beds in which 
 there were crawling things, and irregular meals not 
 always prepared in the most tasty form, the super- 
 intendent began very sympathetically telling some 
 of his own experiences. Sleeping one night in a 
 dugout, wrapped in his blanket on the. clay floor, 
 which was several feet below the surface of the 
 ground, he felt cold, clammy things on his back and 
 face. He would brush them off and turn over, and 
 by the time he was getting off to sleep again there 
 would be another visitation, and so he kept brushing 
 them away the w^hole night. 
 
 " 'And what were these things?' asked the won- 
 dering student. 
 
 "Well, you see the floor was tw^o feet below the 
 ground. The ground was worn away several inches 
 lower than the door, and the lizards would fall over 
 the edge of the cutting and crawl under the door, and 
 during the night creep over the floor. And these 
 lizards were enjoying a warm nest on my neck and 
 face. 
 
 "The poor student stood horrified. The superin- 
 tendent enthused for a few moments on lice and 
 lizards and snakes, as though encounters therewith
 
 James Robertson 167 
 
 were as valuable as theology in a true missionary's 
 education, and the complaining dude subsided. His 
 hardships vanished into thin air." 
 
 He knew how to handle the rough elements in 
 the new far Western country. After a meeting in 
 Rossland, a British Columbia mining town then at 
 the height of its boom, one rough fellow exclaimed 
 of him: "Say, ain't he a corker?" and then sol- 
 emnly, after due thought, ''He's a Jim Dandy 
 corker." 
 
 While he was making his first trip through 
 Alberta and was soliciting subscriptions for the erec- 
 tion of a church in connection with one of his 
 mission stations, he came upon a young Scotchman 
 who rejected his appeal, asserting with an oath that 
 he had never known a professing Christian ''who 
 wasn't a blank hypocrite, anyway." 
 
 "Well," said the superintendent, "I am sorry, sir, 
 that you had such a poor mother." 
 
 "What do you mean, sir?" was the angry retort. 
 "What do you know of my mother?" 
 
 "Was she a professing Christian?" 
 
 "She was." 
 
 "And was she a good woman?" 
 
 "She was that, but," feeling his equivocal position, 
 "there are not many like her." 
 
 "We want to make Christians like your mother in
 
 1 68 Servants of the King 
 
 this country, and that is why we are building this 
 church." 
 
 Before the interview was over he had added an- 
 other name to his subscription Hst. 
 
 At Fort McLeod, to which he came by the Leth- 
 bridge stage, driven by the stage driver Jake, famous 
 for his skill as a driver and for his profanity, he was 
 pinning up a notice of a service to be held on Sun- 
 day, the day following, when a young fellow came 
 in, read the notice, and burst into cursing. The 
 superintendent listened quietly till he had finished, 
 then said blandly : 
 
 ''Is that the best you can do? You ought to hear 
 Jake. You go to Jake. He'll give you points." 
 
 The derisive laughter that followed completely 
 quenched the crestfallen young man. In the even- 
 ing the superintendent came upon him in the street, 
 got into conversation with him, found he was of 
 Presbyterian extraction, that he had been well 
 brought up, but in that wild land had fallen into 
 evil ways. 
 
 "Come now," said the superintendent, "own up; 
 you were trying to bluff me this afternoon, weren't 
 you?" 
 
 "Well, I guess so," was the shamefaced reply. 
 "But you held over me." 
 
 "Now look here," replied the superintendent,
 
 James Robertson 169 
 
 "you get me a good meeting to-morrow afternoon, 
 and we'll call it square." 
 
 The young man promised, and the next day's 
 meeting proved him to be as good as his word. 
 
 Dr. Robertson was not only a missionary super- 
 intendent. He was a citizen and a patriot. He took 
 up the cause of the Indians and secured a reform 
 of the corrupt agencies which were preying upon 
 them. He helped to found the University of Mani- 
 toba. He was for years a member of the Board of 
 Education for Manitoba, and he was an ardent advo- 
 cate of the public schools. He was a great reader 
 on his long journeys. His general knowledge of the 
 Northwest was drawn upon by both the government 
 and the Canadian Pacific Railway. His judgment 
 determined the location of one of the railway's 
 branch lines. 
 
 In 1896 he visited Scotland, but he put all his 
 time and strength into speaking in the churches 
 about the needs of Canada and into the solicitation of 
 funds. He came back with nearly $12,000 and sup- 
 port for over forty missionaries. The next year 
 came the great gold rush to the Yukon. Ten thou- 
 sand men, some said twenty, with the rumseller, the 
 gambler, and all the human birds of prey, had 
 poured into the Klondike before a single missionary 
 went in. Robertson flung himself with characteris- 
 tic energy into the work of providing the men and
 
 1 70 Servants of the King 
 
 the money to meet this great need. But the strain 
 was too great. He had gone ill to Scotland and 
 he came home ill. Unknown to him a dangerous 
 disease had fastened upon him. He kept going by 
 force of will, but he could not live on his will 
 permanently, and in 1897 the break came and he 
 went back at last to his family from whom he had 
 long been separated by his far journeys. It was 
 the first Christmas in sixteen years that he had spent 
 with them. He was soon better, and the next sum- 
 mer was back at his work again as hard as ever, but 
 he could not stand it long, and in 1900 he and his 
 wife went off together to Scotland and then to the 
 Continent. He seized all opportunities for raising 
 money for the Canadian work, and came back in 
 1 90 1 with 42 men promised and over $10,000 for 
 the work. He took up his task again with his old 
 energy. He had a fearful fall in November which 
 would have disabled any common man, but not 
 Robertson. He kept every engagement. 
 
 ''I shall never forget his appearance," writes the 
 Rev. John Neil, *'when he came into the vestry be- 
 fore service. He had a bandage over one eye, and 
 his appearance indicated that he had been passing 
 through some trying experiences. He said, 'Dr. 
 Warden insisted upon my not coming this morning, 
 but when I make an engagement I am always deter-
 
 James Robertson 171 
 
 mined, if possible, to carry it out. I hope your con- 
 gregation will not resent my coming in this form/ " 
 
 He succeeded so well in his appeal that he wrote : 
 "I am going to disable the other shoulder and get 
 my other eye blackened." 
 
 The end was very near now. The last Sunday 
 of the year 1901 he kept for his home; and from 
 his home, on January 4, 1902, he passed on to the 
 higher service. 'T am done out," he said to his 
 wife as he sank to sleep. So he went forward, the 
 ^'man of heroic mold, but of tenderest heart. Char- 
 itable in his judgments of men, generous and sym- 
 pathetic in his dealings with them, he was himself 
 a living embodiment of that gospel which he 
 preached as the only hope for the individual or 
 the nation."
 
 JOHN COLERIDGE PATTESON 
 
 »73
 
 How I think of those islands ! . . . Hundreds of people 
 are crowding upon them, naked, armed, with uncouth cries and 
 gestures. . . . But they are all my children now. May 
 God enable me to do my duty by them. 
 
 — John Coleridge Patteson 
 
 174
 
 JOHN COLERIDGE PATTESON 
 
 SIXTY-FOUR years ago, at the annual dinner 
 given by the cricket eleven to the eight of the 
 boats at Eton, when one of the boys, in accordance 
 with a custom which had arisen, began to sing an 
 objectionable song, another boy called out, ^Tf that 
 does not stop, I shall leave the room !" The singing 
 went on, so the boy who had protested rose and went 
 out with a few other lads as fearless and high- 
 minded as he was. That boy was Coleridge Patte- 
 son, and, not content with what he had done, he sent 
 word to the captain that unless an apology was made 
 he should leave the eleven. That would have been 
 no small sacrifice to him, and it would have been 
 a very serious loss to the eleven. Partly for that 
 reason, and partly because the manly feelings of the 
 better boys prevailed, the apology was made and the 
 best cricketer in the school kept his place. 
 
 The boy had grown to such power and strength 
 as this in a true Christian home under the influence 
 of the best of mothers and fathers. His father. Sir 
 
 175
 
 1^6 Servants of the King 
 
 John Patteson, was one of the ablest judges in Eng- 
 land, and there was the most open and intimate affec- 
 tion between him and his son. In New Zealand, the 
 wife of the Chief Justice wrote : "He used to walk 
 beside my pony and tell me about 'his dear father' — 
 how lovingly his voice used to linger over those 
 words. ... I remember his bright look the first 
 day it became certain that we must visit England. 
 'Why, then you w^ill see my dear father and tell him 
 all about me.' " 
 
 The boy who had such a father and loved him so 
 was sure not to be unlike him. His mother, as 
 Coley's uncle wrote, was "of the most affectionate, 
 loving disposition, without a grain of selfishness, and 
 of the stoutest adherence to principle and duty. . . . 
 What she felt was right she insisted on, at whatever 
 pain to herself." 
 
 Coleridge Patteson was born in London on April 
 I, 1827. The poet Coleridge was his great-uncle. 
 He was a warmly affectionate but fiery-tempered 
 little boy, troublesome and dogged, but reverent, 
 simple-natured, and, under the loving discipline of 
 home and school, coming slowly into form as a stead- 
 fast, self-controlled, unselfish lad of the highest 
 honor and the most unswerving strength of char- 
 acter. He learned to read when he was five, and got 
 his first Bible on his seventh birthday. From the 
 beginning of his boyish purpose he thought he would
 
 John Coleridge Patteson 177 
 
 be a clergyman. His first school was Ottery St. 
 Mary, in Devonshire, of which his great-grandfather 
 and great-uncle had both been head masters. Thither 
 he was sent at the age of nine, and at the age of 
 eleven to Eton, where he lived with his uncle, one 
 of the most popular and successful Eton masters. 
 While he was home on a vacation, the Bishop of 
 New Zealand, Bishop Selwyn, who had just been 
 made Bishop, visited his father and preached in a 
 neighboring church. The sermon deeply influenced 
 the little boy, and when the Bishop left he said, half 
 in earnest, half in playfulness, "Lady Patteson, will 
 you give me Coley?" Years after he went with the 
 Bishop, but the mother who would have given him 
 died before he had left Eton. He threw himself 
 into the life of the school, and never loved any place 
 more than he loved Eton. In a great schoolboy wel- 
 come to Queen Victoria, then only nineteen, he was 
 nearly run over by her carriage, and was only saved 
 by the young Queen's presence of mind in reaching 
 out and giving him her hand until he regained his 
 feet. 
 
 Another time, the Duke of Wellington came and 
 was separated from his company and hustled in the 
 crowd until, as the enthusiastic boy says : 'T was the 
 first to perceive him, and springing forward, pushed 
 back the fellows on each side, who did not know 
 whom they were tumbling against, and, taking off
 
 178 Servants of the King 
 
 my hat, cheered with might and main. The crowds 
 hearing the cheer, turned round, and then there 
 was the most glorious sight I ever saw. The whole 
 school encircled the Duke, who stood entirely alone 
 in the middle for a minute or two, and I rather 
 think we did cheer him. At last, giving about one 
 touch to his hat, he began to move on, saying, 'Get 
 on, boys, get on.' I never saw such enthusiasm 
 here; the masters rushed into the crowd round him, 
 waving their caps and shouting like any of us. As 
 for myself, I was half-mad and roared myself 
 hoarse in about five minutes." 
 
 He was not one of the best students in Eton. He 
 had done well, but he was slow in coming to his full 
 powers. Even at Oxford, although a good student, 
 the hidden fire had scarcely burned out into light. 
 "For it was character," wrote one of his 
 friends, "more than special ability which marked 
 him out from others and made him, wher- 
 ever he was, whether in cricket, in which he 
 excelled, or in graver things, a center round which 
 others gathered. The impression he left on me was 
 of quiet, gentle strength and entire purity, a heart 
 that loved all things true and honest and pure, and 
 that would always be found on the side of these. We 
 did not know, probably he did not know himself, the 
 fire of devotion that lay within him, but that was
 
 John Coleridge Patteson 179 
 
 soon to kindle and make him what he afterward 
 became." 
 
 Coleridge Patteson awoke, intellectually, when he 
 went to Germany to study in 1852. There he dis- 
 covered and developed his remarkable gift for lan- 
 guages. He spoke German fluently and wrote it cor- 
 rectly, and he studied Hebrew and Arabic and 
 Syriac. His boyish distaste for mental exertion 
 passed away, and the individuality and originality 
 of his mind appeared. When he returned from 
 Dresden to Oxford "he had become quite another 
 person," said Mr. Roundell. "The moral and spir- 
 itual power of the man were all alive." The deeper, 
 inner life was coming to maturity. "I believe it to 
 be a good thing," he wrote to his sister, "to break 
 off any work once or twice a day in the middle of 
 any reading, for meditating a little while and for 
 prayer." He was somewhat conscious of himself, 
 as most earnest young men are, and he examined his 
 own feelings, but not more than all devoted men 
 must, and he soon moved out into an active life of 
 unselfish service. 
 
 He left Oxford in 1853 to work at Alfington in 
 the parish of Ottery St. Mary. There, among the 
 poor and the rich, for the children of wretched 
 homes and among the people of his own class, he 
 wrought in tireless and simple-hearted love. He 
 opened a Boys' Home for the lads from the profli-
 
 i8o Servants of the King 
 
 gate families, and he visited and preached as one 
 who would save souls. This same year he was or- 
 dained, and the parish opened its heart to him in 
 return for his loving and unresting work. But God 
 meant him for larger things, and the next year 
 Bishop Selwyn came back for the gift he had asked 
 of Lady Patteson thirteen years before. It was no 
 struggle to Coley, except to ask his father to give 
 him up, but Sir John faced it like the true servant 
 of Christ he was. As a Christian judge he weighed 
 the arguments for and against, dwelt on all that his 
 son was to him, and added to the Bishop : "But 
 there, what right have I to stand in his way ? How 
 do I know that I may live another year?" And as 
 the conversation ended, "Mind !" he said, "I give 
 him wholly, not with any thought of seeing him 
 again. I will not have him thinking he must come 
 home again to see me." 
 
 With his father's blessing, he sailed for New 
 Zealand with the Bishop on March 28, 1855, reach- 
 ing Auckland on July 5. He was soon talking to 
 the Maoris, as the New Zealand natives are called, 
 in their own language, and entering in his whole- 
 some, complete-hearted way into the work, realizing 
 deeply how much depended on right beginnings for 
 him and for those whom he had come to help. He 
 took his part in the work of the college, where the 
 Bishop had in training young men for teachers and
 
 John Coleridge Patteson 181 
 
 clergymen. ''I clean, of course," he wrote, "my 
 room in part, make my bed, help to clear away things 
 after meals, etc., and am quite accustomed to do 
 without servants for anything but cooking." 
 
 But he learned to cook, too. "I hope you are well 
 suited with a housekeeper," he wrote home. "If I 
 were at home I could fearlessly advertise for such a 
 situation. I have passed through the preliminary 
 steps of housemaid and scullery maid, and now, hav- 
 ing taken to serving out stores, am quite qualified for 
 the post, especially after my last performance of 
 making bread, and even a cake." 
 
 He learned much more than this. He soon be- 
 came an expert sailor, able to handle the little mis- 
 sion schooner on which, in 1856, he went off on his 
 first long trip with the Bishop to the New Hebrides 
 Islands, visiting Aneityum, where John G. Paton 
 soon came to work, and many other islands. "After 
 nearly seventeen weeks at sea," he wrote, "we re- 
 turned safely on Sunday morning, the 15th, with 
 thirty-three Melanesians, gathered from nine islands 
 and speaking eight languages. Plenty of work for 
 me ; I can teach tolerably in three, and have a smat- 
 tering of one or two more. . . . We visited 
 sixty-six islands and landed eighty-one times, wad- 
 ing, swimming, etc. ; all most friendly and delight- 
 ful ; only two arrows shot at us, and only one went 
 near — so much for savages. I wonder what people
 
 1 82 Servants of the King 
 
 ought to call sandalwood traders and slave masters 
 if they call my Melanesians savages." 
 
 The plan was to prepare these boys in the college 
 at Auckland and send them back to work among 
 their own people. Year by year he taught them and 
 sent them back, and went to and fro among the 
 islands, often in danger, but never afraid, and ever 
 more and more trusted and loved. 
 
 In 1 86 1 Patteson was consecrated Bishop of the 
 Melanesian Islands, Bishop Selwyn having long felt 
 that the work ought to be provided for in this way. 
 His consecration did not stiffen Coleridge Patteson's 
 methods of loving and simple dealing with his peo- 
 ple. "As for my life-work," he wrote home, "it will 
 be precisely the same in all respects, my external life 
 altered only to the extent of my wearing a broader- 
 brimmed and lower-crowned hat. Dear Joan is in- 
 vesting moneys in cutaway coats, buckles without 
 end, and no doubt knee-breeches and what she calls 
 'gambroons' (whereof I have no cognizance), none 
 of w^hich will be worn more than (say) four or five 
 times in the year. Gambroons and aprons and lawn 
 sleeves won't go a-voyaging, depend upon it." What 
 he wore for his work he had written in an earlier 
 letter : 
 
 "I eschewed shoes and socks, rather liking to be 
 paddling about all day, when not going on shore or 
 otherwise employed, which, of course, made up eight
 
 FACSIMILE OF A LETTER WRITTEN BY BISHOP PATTESON FROM MELANESIA
 
 John Coleridge Patteson 183 
 
 or ten hours of the thirteen hours of dayhght. When 
 I went ashore (which I did w^henever the boat 
 went), then I put on my shoes, and always swam in 
 them, for the coral would cut my feet to pieces. 
 Usual swimming and wading attire: flannel shirt, 
 dark gray trousers, cap or straw hat, shoes, basket 
 around my neck with fish-hooks, or perhaps an adz 
 or two in my hand. I enjoyed the tropical climate 
 very much — really warm always in the water or out 
 of it. On the reefs, when I waded in shallozu water, 
 the heat of it was literally unpleasant, more than a 
 tepid bath." 
 
 But whatever the dress, the true heart beat be- 
 neath, and the hearts of the Melanesians answered 
 to it. 
 
 The ten years of his bishopric were spent in cease- 
 less work for the Melanesian islanders. The New 
 Zealand climate was not good for his boys, many of 
 them dying there, and after considering and reject- 
 ing Curtis Island, near x\ustralia, he removed his 
 school to Norfolk Island. He hardly knew how the 
 people on the islands would welcome him after their 
 boys died in his school, but they understood and 
 trusted him. When he went to Mota after one of 
 the epidemics in the school, in which many boys had 
 died, he wrote : 
 
 "You should have been with me when, as I 
 jumped on shore at Mota, I took Paraskloi's father
 
 184 Servants of the King 
 
 by the hand. That dear lad I baptized as he lay in 
 his shroud in the chapel, when the whole weight of 
 the trial seemed, as it were, by a sudden revelation 
 to manifest itself, and thoroughly overwhelmed and 
 unnerved me. I got through the service with the 
 tears streaming down my cheeks and my voice half 
 choked. He was his father's pride, some seventeen 
 years old. A girl ready chosen for his wife. *It is 
 all well, Bishop ; he died well. I knew you did all 
 you could; it is all well' He trembled all over, and 
 his face was wet with tears ; but he seemed strangely 
 drawn to us, and if he survives this present epidemic 
 his son's death may be to him the means in God's 
 hands of an eternal life. Most touching, is it not, 
 this entire confidence?" 
 
 He loved them and they trusted him. It was this 
 love that made him fearless when he landed on their 
 islands, always watchful for treachery, but always 
 bold and fearless, disarming hostility by his very con- 
 fidence. 
 
 Their savagery and uncleanness he strove against, 
 but he saw the real worth and possibility of noble- 
 ness in them. "The Melanesians," he said, "laugh 
 as you may at it, are naturally gentlemanly and 
 courteous and well-bred. I never saw a *gent' in 
 Melanesia, though not a few downright savages. 
 I vastly prefer the savage." 
 
 He learned their languages, so that he could
 
 John Coleridge Patteson 185 
 
 speak to them more clearly and forcefully than they 
 could speak to one another. He spoke a score of 
 languages. He prepared grammars of twenty-five 
 or more. And he gave himself utterly to those be 
 had come to reach. He never returned to England, 
 refusing invitations to do so, partly because he did 
 not want to be lionized, partly because he was at 
 home among his islanders and did not like the arti- 
 ficial society of civilization. He had put in his life 
 with the Melanesians, and he would not take it out. 
 
 In 1868, after thirteen years' work, he ordained 
 the first native clergyman, George Sarawia, who had 
 been his pupil for nine years, and he could see 
 throughout the islands some real evidences of 
 changed lives, as well as of changed faith, as the re- 
 sult of his frequent visits and of the work of the 
 boys and girls whom he had trained and sent back 
 to their own people. On the Island of Mota alone, 
 on his last voyage, he baptized 289 persons. But 
 he would not be overconfident. "I feel satisfied of 
 their earnestness," he wrote, ''and I think it looks 
 like a stable, permanent work. Yet I need not tell 
 you how my old text is ever in my mind, 'Thine 
 heart shall fear, and be enlarged.' " 
 
 The work was permanent, but his part in it was 
 nearly done. In 1867 he began to be troubled over 
 the trade in laborers. Ships began to go about among 
 the islands, carrying off men to work on the plan-
 
 1 86 Servants of the King 
 
 tations on the Fiji Islands in Queensland. At first, 
 and in the hands of honest sea-captains, the trade 
 was legitimate. The laborers were honorably em- 
 ployed. But soon it became a matter of kidnapping, 
 and the ''snatch-snatch" vessels, as the natives called 
 them, almost depopulated some of the islands. And 
 what was worse, other ships, for the sake of the tor- 
 toise-shell traffic, would connive at the quarrels 
 among different tribes and take part in their battles, 
 so that they came to be called the "kill-kill" ships. 
 Sometimes, to gain the confidence of the people be- 
 fore some vicious treachery, they would represent 
 themselves as having come from the Bishop. Pat- 
 teson did all that he could to stop this wicked busi- 
 ness, and realized that it was making great trouble 
 for him. How could he hope to win these people to 
 a Christian life when his own countrymen were mur- 
 dering and kidnapping all around him and some- 
 times implicating him in their crimes ? 
 
 At last the end came, as he feared. He was about 
 among the islands and came to Nukapu, where, on 
 September 20, 1871, he went ashore with two of the 
 chiefs, who had formerly been very friendly to him. 
 One of the ship's boats went in with him, and was 
 floating about, with the native canoes around it, 
 when suddenly, without warning, a man stood up 
 in one of them and calling out, "Have you any like 
 this?" shot off one of the yard-long arrows, and his
 
 John Coleridge Patteson 187 
 
 companions in the other two canoes began shooting 
 as quickly as possible, calling out as they aimed : 
 "This for New Zealand man ! This for Bauro man ! 
 This for Mota man!" The boat was pulled back 
 rapidly and was soon out of range, but not before 
 three out of the four had been struck. The crew got 
 back to the ship, but the Bishop did not appear on 
 shore. After waiting, the men manned a boat and 
 went in to look for him. As they drew near the 
 shore two canoes put out toward them and one put 
 the other adrift. In it they found the Bishop's body. 
 He had been killed by a blow on the skull with a 
 club. There w^ere four other wounds, and on his 
 breast was a branch of palm with five knots in the 
 long leaves, indicating that he had been killed in 
 revenge for five natives who had been stolen from 
 Nukapu. A sweet, calm smile was on his face. The 
 shepherd had laid down his life for his sheep. 
 
 The next morning, St. Matthew's Day, they 
 buried him in the waters of the Pacific, on which for 
 sixteen years he had made his home. His death 
 called attention to the atrocities of the labor trade, 
 but they went on for years afterward. But Cole- 
 ridge Patteson's life went on also. It is going on now 
 in every land, calling men to be true and fearless as 
 he was. And it will never die in the South Seas. 
 Such lives never end.
 
 ION KEITH-FALCONER 
 
 189
 
 While vast continents are shrouded in darkness, and hun- 
 dreds of millions suffer the horrors of heathenism or of Islam, 
 the burden of proof lies upon you to show that the circum- 
 stances in which God has placed you were meant by God to 
 keep you out of the foreign mission field. 
 
 — Ion Keith-Falconer 
 
 190
 
 UiTh, ki<^-Za..6urrL£^
 
 XI 
 
 ION KEITH-FALCONER 
 
 THERE died at the age of thirty-one in a little vil- 
 lage in Arabia in 1887, the year after the Stu- 
 dent Volunteer Movement for Foreign Missions be- 
 gan its work among the colleges of the United States 
 and Canada, a young Scotchman named Ion Keith- 
 Falconer, whose life and death made a profound im- 
 pression upon the students of that day. Perhaps 
 that was due, in part, to his noble birth and ancestry. 
 It seemed a wonderful thing for a son of an Earl, 
 whose fathers had been among the great men of 
 Scotland for eight hundred years, to go off and die 
 just for love of men in a little Arabian village. But 
 perhaps the students of his time were even more im- 
 pressed at his going because he was such a great ath- 
 lete, for he was the fastest bicycle rider in the world. 
 Bicycles then were just coming in, and they were the 
 high bicycles which boys of to-day know little about. 
 Keith-Falconer was big and tall, six feet three inches 
 when he was nineteen, and rode a very high wheel, 
 so high that when, before one race, the step broke, 
 
 191
 
 192 Servants of the King 
 
 he had to mount with a chair. And he had one mon- 
 ster wheel seven feet high, which he called "The 
 Leviathan," and on which he made a fearsome figure 
 as he flew over the country roads. 
 
 He began his bicycle riding as a boy at Harrow, 
 one of the great English preparatory schools, as we 
 should call them, and when he got to Cambridge he 
 was a skilled rider. He went to Cambridge in 1874 
 and began to win races at once. The next May he 
 won for Cambridge the race against Oxford, on a 
 fifty-mile course, and in 1876 he won the amateur 
 championship four-mile race at Little Bridge, in 
 what was the fastest time on record. In 1877 he 
 was elected president of the London Bicycle Club, 
 and that year he made new world's amateur records 
 in the two-mile and ten-mile races with Oxford. In 
 1878 he competed successfully in the two-mile race 
 of the National Cyclists' Union for the title of short- 
 distance champion, and the same year he beat John 
 Keen, the world's professional champion, by five 
 yards in a great five-mile race. He wrote an account 
 of this race to his friend, Isaac Pitman, the inventor 
 of shorthand, who had been urging him to give up 
 smoking : 
 
 "As for smoking, I think that the following will 
 gratify you. Early in the year I consented to meet 
 John Keen, the professional champion of the world,
 
 Ion Keith-Falconer 193 
 
 in a five-mile race on our ground at Cambridge, on 
 October 21,. But I forgot all about my engagement 
 till I was accidentally reminded of it nine days be- 
 fore it was to come off. 
 
 "I immediately began to make my preparations 
 and to train hard. The first thing to be done was 
 to knock off smoking, which I did; next, to rise 
 early in the morning and breathe the fresh air be- 
 fore breakfast, which I did; next, to go to bed not 
 later than ten, which I did; next, to eat wholesome 
 food, and not too much meat or pastry, which I did ; 
 and finally, to take plenty of gentle exercise in the 
 open air, which I did. 
 
 "What was the result? I met Keen on Wednes- 
 day last, the 23d of October, and amid the most 
 deafening applause, or rather yells of delight, this 
 David slew the great Goliath ; to speak in plain lan- 
 guage, I defeated Keen by about five yards. 
 
 'The time was by far the fastest on record. 
 
 Mins. Sees. 
 
 The 1st mile was done in 2 59 
 
 The 2d mile was done in 3 i 
 
 The 3d mile Avas done in 3 7 
 
 The 4Lh mile was done in 3 12 
 
 The 5th mile was done in 2 52 2-5 
 
 Total time 15 112-
 
 194 Servants of the King 
 
 "The last lap, that is, the last circuit, measuring 
 440 yards, we did in 39 seconds ; that is more than 
 1 1 yards per second. 
 
 "The excitement was something indescribable. 
 Such a neck-and-neck race was never heard of. The 
 pace for the last mile was terrific, as the time shows, 
 and when it was over I felt as fit and comfortable as 
 ever I felt in my life. And even when the race was 
 going on I thought actually that we were going 
 slowly and that the time would be bad, and the rea- 
 son was I was in such beautiful condition. I did not 
 perspire or ^blow' from beginning to end. The peo- 
 ple here are enchanted about it ; so that it is gratify- 
 ing to me to think that, notwithstanding my other 
 work and other business, I can yet beat, with posi- 
 tive comfort and ease, the fastest rider in the world. 
 
 'T am bound to say that smoking is bad — ^bad for 
 the wind and general condition." 
 
 The next year he beat John Keen again by three 
 inches in a two-mile race, where he made a new rec- 
 ord, and three days later he made a new world's 
 record in a twenty-mile race. He was always in 
 such good physical condition that he went into this 
 race from a four days' hard examination, without 
 any special preparation, and simply ran away from 
 his leading competitor in the last lap. His last great 
 race was for the amateur fifty-mile championship, 
 which he won in 1882, in 2 hours 43 minutes and
 
 Ion Keith-Falconer 195 
 
 58 3-5 seconds, seven minutes better than all pre- 
 vious records. He was a long-distance rider, also, 
 riding 150 miles in one day between dawn and dark 
 — when this was a great feat — from Cambridge to 
 Bournemouth to see his family. And, what was 
 more notable, he was the first man to ride from 
 Land's End to John O'Groat's, that is, from the 
 southwestern corner of England to the northeastern 
 corner of Scotland. And he did it in thirteen days. 
 In his old school at Harrow they hung a big map 
 on the wall, and followed his course by means of 
 postals and telegrams which he sent, marking his 
 victorious course with a little red flag. He was a 
 clean, wholesome student, who loved sport for sport's 
 sake, and who found in his great competitor, John 
 Keen, the world's professional champion, a man 
 after his own soul, who was above prizes, and who 
 delighted, as Keith-Falconer did, in deeds of 
 strength and endurance for their own sake. 
 
 Many a man would be satisfied with being the best 
 bicycle rider in the world. But Keith-Falconer was 
 not. There were other things in life besides ath- 
 letics. One of his other great interests was short- 
 hand. He took it up while he was a schoolboy at 
 Harrow, learning it quite unaided. He made con- 
 stant use of it until the end of his life. For years 
 he kept up a correspondence with Mr. Isaac Pitman, 
 the inventor of phonography, and all the letters
 
 196 Servants of the King 
 
 written to Mr. Pitman were in shorthand. Mr. 
 Pitman testifies that Keith-Falconer "wrote it 
 swiftly and accurately, and had a thorough knowl- 
 edge of the minutest part of the system; and that 
 not merely as a stenographer, but as a judge of 
 its values as a part of a harmonious whole." He 
 was the best bicycle rider in the world. He would 
 become one of the best shorthand writers. And 
 such an authority did he become that when he was 
 twenty-eight years of age he wrote the article on 
 "Shorthand" for the new edition of the Ency- 
 clopcedia Britannica. 
 
 But Keith-Falconer was not content with suprem- 
 acy in athletics and shorthand. He would be also one 
 of the best Arabic scholars in the world. He had al- 
 ways been a good student, not of the cut-and-dried 
 kind, studying hard only what was set before him, 
 but choosing for himself and writing out the things 
 that he believed to be permanently worth while. 
 The special studies which he took up at Cambridge 
 were theological and Biblical, and he soon got a 
 solid mastery of Hebrew. When he was twenty he 
 could write his letters in it^ readily, and he was 
 able to bend the old language and its scanty vocabu- 
 lary to the needs of every-day English thought. 
 The oldest Greek translation of the Old Testament, 
 the Septuagint, and Syriac he mastered also and 
 was always looking for hard points. To a friend
 
 Ion Keith-Falconer 197 
 
 he wrote, during these Cambridge days, ''Send me 
 some Septuagint nuts to crack if I can." From 
 these things he went on to Arabic, going to Leipzig 
 to pursue his studies. Coming back to London in 
 188 1, he met General Gordon, and the two men took 
 at once to each other and Gordon wrote to him the 
 same month : 
 
 "I only wish I could put you into something that 
 would give you the work you need, namely, secular 
 and religious work, running side by side. This is 
 the proper work for man and I think you could 
 find it. 
 
 "Would you go to Stamboul as extra unpaid 
 attache to Lord Dufferin? If so, why not try it, 
 or else as private secretary to Petersburg? If you 
 will not, then come to me in Syria to the Her- 
 mitage." 
 
 But God had an even greater thing for the Scotch- 
 man, greater in God's eyes, and Keith-Falconer was 
 seeking it. "Pray constantly for me," he wrote to 
 a friend shortly after receiving General Gordon's 
 letter, "especially that I may have my path in life 
 more clearly marked out for me, or (which is per- 
 haps a better request) that I may be led along the 
 path intended for me." 
 
 So he worked on his Arabic, and became in that, 
 as in all things that he gave himself to, a leader 
 and authority. In reviewing a book of Keith-Fal-
 
 198 Servants of the King 
 
 coner's, one of the foremost Oriental scholars, Pro- 
 fessor Noldeke, wrote : "We will look forward with 
 hope to meet the young Orientalist, who has so early- 
 stepped forward as a master." He was then twenty- 
 nine, and the next year was elected Lord Almoner's 
 Professor of Arabic at Cambridge University, to 
 succeed Professor Robertson Smith. Surely he 
 could now be content! 
 
 But from his earliest childhood deeper purposes 
 had stirred Keith-Falconer's heart. He had been 
 born a Christian. He had an innate truthfulness, 
 and from his first years was unvaryingly thoughtful 
 of others. If anything was to be shared among the 
 brothers and sisters, he was sure to say, "Give it to 
 others first. I will wait." He was full of his own 
 resources, generous and sincere, with the most ear- 
 nest and simple Christian faith. When he was seven 
 he had his own clear opinions about things, and went 
 about among the cottagers on his father's place ex- 
 plaining and reading the Bible to them. The tutor 
 who came to guide his work when he was nine 
 wrote : 
 
 "During the many w^alks and rambles that we had 
 together he would often say to me, 'I wish you would 
 talk to me,' which I knew meant to say. Will you 
 speak to me of the Savior and of the incidents in the 
 life of the Lord Jesus ? . . . He was a thoroughly 
 conscientious and noble-hearted boy."
 
 Ion Keith-Falconer 199 
 
 When he went to Harrow, at the age of thirteen, 
 he was the same sort of boy. The master, in whose 
 home he resided, wrote of him : 
 
 **His boyish Hfe was noticeable from the first for 
 marked individuahty and determination. ... It 
 was refreshing to meet with one who was by no 
 means disposed to swim necessarily with the stream, 
 and who, though in no wise self-engrossed or un- 
 sociable, would not flinch for a m.oment from saying 
 or doing what he believed to be right, at the risk of 
 incurring unpopularity or being charged with eccen- 
 tricity. He was one of those boys, not too common, 
 who are not afraid to have the courage of their opin- 
 ions. Always high-principled and religious, he never 
 disguised his views. I remember how, when almost 
 head of my house, he displayed conspicuously on 
 the wall of his room a printed roll of texts from the 
 Bible — an open avowal of his belief, which was far 
 less common and more noticeable at the time I speak 
 of than it would be now. Not that he was anything 
 of a prig or a Pharisee; far from it. He was an 
 earnest, simple-hearted, devout. Christian boy." 
 
 He thought things out for himself and took hia 
 own line. He stopped, accordingly, whatever prac- 
 tises he thought were not the highest or such as 
 could not be shared with Christ, and for Christ he 
 wanted to work and did work. He stood against all 
 dishonesty and for all cheery, brotherly helpfulness.
 
 200 Servants of the King 
 
 He lived nine years at Cambridge with one old land- 
 lady, who declared that during all those years "his 
 sole aim seemed to be to benefit all needing help, 
 friends or strangers." He worked for his fellow 
 students in his straightforward, manly way to win 
 them to Christ, and he took the deepest interest in 
 work for the laboring men in Barnwell, a suburb of 
 Cambridge, full of squalor and vice, and then in a 
 unique mission in London at Mile End. In both 
 cases buildings were provided largely through his 
 energy and zeal. He fought drunkenness and vice 
 with the same joy and success with which he did 
 other things, and he laid hold of men who were 
 down with a brotherliness which encouraged them 
 to believe in the reality of the help of Christ. When 
 he was gone, a poor painter whom he had got out 
 of prison wrote : 
 
 "He told me if, by reason of the frailty which is 
 in man by his evil heart of unbelief, I should fall into 
 sin, 'Remember sinking Peter' ; that One who raised 
 him to the surface of the water can give me strength 
 to get up again." 
 
 What more could Keith-Falconer wish for, then } 
 He knew the gladness of unselfishness, and surely 
 could not do more than go forward in the career of 
 usefulness and influence which seemed to lie before 
 him. He had married, in 1884, the daughter of 
 Mr. R. C. L. Bevan, a London banker. He had
 
 KEITH-FALCONER S HOME IN SCOTLAND 
 RUINS OF HIS HOME IN ARABIA
 
 Ion Keith-Falconer 201 
 
 made his home in Cambridge, where he had a posi- 
 tion as lecturer before his appointment as professor. 
 He had money and friends. Was all this not enough ? 
 No, it was not enough. There was something yet 
 more for him to do. The gifts God had given him 
 he had given him not for selfish enjoyment or for 
 partial use, but in order that they might be used to 
 the full. He had never been the sort of boy or man 
 simply to follow in the beaten track. He was ready 
 for the big and courageous thing. What was the 
 biggest and most Christian thing he could do? His 
 knowledge of Arabic, his fearless zeal, his tact and 
 judgment, his resources of many kinds, including 
 the money which enabled him to support the mission 
 himself, marked him as the man for a mission which 
 many felt should be undertaken to the Mohamme- 
 dans of southern Arabia. The evangelization of the 
 Mohammedans is the hardest task on earth. That 
 was the kind of task Keith-Falconer wanted. He 
 did not believe that an independent mission w^as the 
 best, so he arranged to have his mission connected 
 with the Free Church of Scotland. That the work 
 might be thoroughly effective he studied medicine, 
 so as to be able to help the doctor who was to be a 
 part of the mission. To plan most wisely, he went 
 out in 1885 on a visit to investigate the field for him- 
 self, and the next year returned with his wife to 
 settle and begin the work.
 
 202 Servants of the King 
 
 He at once won the respect and friendship of those 
 about him, threw himself with all his characteristic 
 energy into the problem of the mission, set to work 
 learning some more languages and reading books by 
 the dozens between times, came down with fever, 
 but wrote, "Read Bonar's Life of Judson, and you 
 will see that our trials are naught," and then, after 
 repeated attacks of fever, was attacked in May by 
 a sickness from which he did not rise up. "How I 
 wish," he said, "that each attack of fever had 
 brought me nearer to Christ — nearer, nearer, 
 nearer." He had his wish, and in the morning of 
 May 10, 1887, he "passed over," as Bunyan says of 
 "Valiant-for-Truth," and all the trumpets sounded 
 for him on the other side. 
 
 Some people get enjoyment from nothing but nice 
 and orderly comfort. They do not care for rough- 
 ing it, either physically or otherwise. Keith-Fal- 
 coner liked the good rough work of life. The hard- 
 ship of the mission — and it was probably from the 
 effects of living in a poor house that he died — was 
 nothing to him. He took it all, without thinking 
 about it, as a matter of course. Young men and 
 women shrink from the missionary work because of 
 its trials or its uncertainties. These things were as 
 trivial to him as they are to the soldier. His mind 
 was ever upon the thing to be done, not upon any 
 personal hardships of his own.
 
 Ion Keith-Falconer 203 
 
 And he did not hesitate to appeal to others to ask 
 themselves if they did not have the same duty which 
 he acknowledged for himself toward the great world. 
 This was the way he closed his last address to large 
 gatherings in Edinburgh and Glasgow on the eve of 
 his going forth : 
 
 "In conclusion, I wish to make an appeal. There 
 must be some who will read these words, or who, 
 having the cause of Christ at heart, have ample in- 
 dependent means and are not fettered by genuine 
 home ties. Perhaps you are content with giving an- 
 nual subscriptions and occasional donations and 
 taking a weekly class? Why not give yourselves, 
 money, time and all, to the foreign field ? Our own 
 country is bad enough, but comparatively many 
 must, and do, remain to work at home, while very 
 few are in a position to go abroad. Yet how vast 
 is the foreign mission field ! 'The field is the world.' 
 Ought you not to consider seriously what your 
 duty is? The heathen are in darkness and we are 
 asleep. Perhaps you try to think that you are meant 
 to remain at home and induce others to go. By sub- 
 scribing money, sitting on committees, speaking at 
 meetings and praying for missions you will be doing 
 the most you can to spread the gospel abroad. Not 
 so. By going yourself you will produce a tenfold 
 more powerful effect. You can give and pray for 
 missions wherever you are ; you can send descriptive
 
 204 Servants of the King 
 
 letters to the missionary meetings, which will be 
 more effective than second-hand anecdotes gathered 
 by you from others, and you will help the committees 
 finely by sending them the results of your experi- 
 ence. Then, in addition, you will have added your 
 own personal example and taken your share of the 
 real w^ork. We have a great and imposing war 
 office, but a very small army. You have wealth 
 snugly vested in the funds; you are strong and 
 healthy; you are at liberty to live where you like 
 and occupy yourself as you like. While vast conti- 
 nents are shrouded in almost utter darkness, and 
 hundreds of millions suffer the horrors of heathen- 
 ism or of Islam, the burden of proof lies upon you 
 to show that the circumstances in which God has 
 placed you were meant by him to keep you out of 
 the foreign mission field." 
 
 Of those who read these words, are there none 
 who would like to follow in the train of the athlete 
 and scholar whose body lies in the lonely grave by 
 the Gulf of Aden, even as he followed in the train 
 oi the Son of God, going forth to war ?
 
 INDEX 
 
 "><i
 
 INDEX 
 
 Adams, Jefferson County, 
 
 New York, 23 
 Afghan Moslem soldiers, 48 
 Africa, 6-16, 44-46, 51-54 
 Alfington, England, 179 
 Ambassador for Christ, 13S 
 "Americanized Dutchman," 
 
 77 
 Angola, 52 
 Arabia, 191, 201, 202 
 Arabic language, 179, 196-198, 
 
 201 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, 32 
 Audubon, school of Miss, 64 
 Austerity unadvisable, 134 
 
 Barbados, West Indies, 47 
 Bareilly, India, 142 
 Barnwell, England, 200 
 Barroom preaching, 161, 162 
 Beard, Bishop Taylor's, 42 
 Bicycle riding, 191-195 
 Bombay, 48, 142 
 Bonar's Life of Judson, 202 
 Boone, Bishop, 123 
 Bournemouth, England, 195 
 Bowman, Bishop, 52 
 Boxers, 105, 106, 107; 
 massacre, 108, 109 
 
 Boys' boarding-school atUen- 
 
 chou, 106 
 Brazil, 6, 50 
 British Guiana, 47 
 
 California, 40, 41 
 Cambridge, 200, 201 ; 
 university, 11, 31, 192, 195- 
 198 
 Canada, 41, 42; 
 
 Alberta incident, 167 
 Canadian Pacific Railway, 169 
 Canton, China, 97, 100, 105, 
 
 107 
 Cape Horn, 41 
 Cape of Good Hope, 6, 7 
 Capetown, 9 
 Carey referred to, 31 
 Chesnut, Eleanor, 89-113; 
 birth and early years, 91, 
 
 92; 
 educational and medical 
 
 courses, 93-95; 
 first medical service at 
 
 South Framingham, 95; 
 further training, 95, 96; 
 missionary appointment and 
 journey to China, 96, 97; 
 
 207
 
 208 
 
 Index 
 
 opening hospital experi- 
 ences, 97-105 ; 
 return home on furlough, 
 
 105; 
 service again in Lien-chou 
 and martyrdom, 91, 106- 
 109; 
 unselfish and perfected 
 
 character, 109-112; 
 vivid pictures in letters, 95- 
 103, 112, 113 
 Chicago, 24 
 Chile, 50 
 China, 5, 64, 91, 96-112, 118, 
 
 122-136 
 Chinese, All Souls' Day, 107; 
 curiosity, 128; 
 hospital for women, 98; 
 men showing ability, 102; 
 prescription, 103; 
 women's sad lives, 99, 100 
 Chippewa Indians, 24 
 Chitambo's village, 15 
 Chonuane, Africa, 8 
 Christmas in Africa, Living- 
 stone's, 13 
 Christodora House, New 
 
 York City, 64, 65 
 Church and Manse Building 
 
 Fund, 163 
 Church Missionary Society, 32 
 Cmcinnati Academy of De- 
 sign, 142 
 Civil War, 13, 29; 
 
 effect on missionary work, 
 130 
 
 Clinton, New York, 23 
 
 Confucius, 127 
 
 Congo, Free State, 52; 
 
 River, 10 
 Cooke, school of Miss, 70 
 Costa Rica, 50 
 Crabbottom, Virginia, 37 
 Criticism disarmed, 130 
 Curtis Island, 183 
 
 Damien, Father, 31 
 
 Desecration of mission prop- 
 erty, 107 
 
 Details of school work in In- 
 dia, 148, 150 
 
 Devault, Mr., 135 
 
 Dwight School, Englewood, 
 59 
 
 Ecuador, 50 
 
 Edinburgh, 11 
 
 Egypt, 31 
 
 Encyclopcrdia Britannica, 196 
 
 Englewood, New Jersey, 57 
 
 Eton boys, 175 
 
 Europe, 31, 131, 170 
 
 Faribault, Minnesota, 24, 25 
 
 Fenian raid, 158 
 
 Fiji Islands, 186 
 
 Finney, C. G., 23 
 
 Fire-water, 27, 28 
 
 Foreign Mission Board, Rich- 
 mond, Virginia, 122 
 
 Foreign missions and mission 
 workers, 1-17, 44-54, yy 
 152, 173-204
 
 Index 
 
 209 
 
 Fort McLeod stage-driver, 
 
 168 
 Fort Ripley, 29 
 Foster, Bishop, 52 
 Free Church of Scotland, 201 
 
 Gallen, Father, 67 
 Garibaldi, 45 
 
 Georgetown, Demarara, 47 
 Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, 13 
 Girls' schools at Cawnpur and 
 
 Lucknow, 143 
 Glasgow University, 11 
 God, consecration to, 38 
 Gordon, General, 197 
 Grand Canal, China, 132, 133 
 Green Bay, Wisconsin, 76 
 Greenfield, Massachusetts, 64 
 Griffis, Dr., 82 
 Gulf of Aden, 204 
 Gutzlaff, influence of appeal 
 
 on Livingstone, 5 
 
 Ham-kuang, China, 106 
 Harrison, ex-President, 151 
 Harrow school, England, 192, 
 
 199 
 Hartzell, Bishop J. C, 53 
 Hawaiian Islands, 32 
 Hindus, reached by William 
 
 Taylor, 48 
 Hints to candidates, 134 
 Hizen, Baron, 79 
 Hogg, David, advice of, 5 
 Holiness, Bishop Taylor's 
 
 book on, 43 
 
 Holmes, Dr. Oliver Wendell, 
 
 96 
 Home missions and mission 
 
 workers, 19-42, 55-71, H7, 
 
 153-171 
 Hongkong, China, 96 
 Hudson Bay Company, 160 
 Humboldt, Manitoba, 164 
 Ku-nan, China, 97; 
 conditions in, 99, 105 
 
 India, 48, 49, 139-15 1 
 Indians, American, 21-28 ; 
 
 championed by Bishop 
 Whipple, 27; 
 
 councils and treaties with, 
 22; 
 
 fire-water, 27, 28; 
 
 need of a friend, 22; 
 
 outbreaks among, 26; 
 
 Red Cloud's toast, 22; 
 
 wrongs inflicted on, 27 
 Indian Peace Commission, 27 
 Inhambane, Africa, 54 
 Iwakura, embassy, 83; 
 
 Prince, 81 
 
 Jackson, Alice, 55-71 ; 
 Christian experience, 62; 
 concentration, 59; 
 death, 70; 
 influence over others, 60, 
 
 67-70; 
 missionary longings, 63 ; 
 prayer or song for children, 
 
 66:
 
 2IO 
 
 Index 
 
 school work, 64; 
 
 settlement work, 65, 66 ; 
 
 Y. W. C A. work in New 
 York, 69 
 Jamaica, 47 
 Japanese, embassy, 81, 83, 84; 
 
 students for America, 81 
 Judson, memoirs of Mrs., 122 
 
 Kaffir work, Taylor's, 44, 54 
 Kang-hau, China, 106 
 Keen, John, 192, 194, 195 
 Keith- Falconer, Ion, 189-204; 
 
 athlete and scholar, 191, 
 196, 204; 
 
 bicycle record, 191-195 ; 
 
 high social station, 191 ; 
 
 immense application in 
 studies, 195-197; 
 
 marriage, 200 ; 
 
 Mohammedan mission and 
 death, 201, 202; 
 
 plea for missionary conse- 
 cration, 203, 204 
 Kildonan, Manitoba, 160 
 King, of Belgium, 52; 
 
 of Portugal, 52 
 Klondike, 169 
 
 Knox Church, Winnipeg, 159 
 Kolobeng, Africa, 8, 9 
 Kuang-tung, China, 97 
 Kuruman, Africa, 7, 8 
 
 Lake 'Ngami, 8 
 Lambeth Conference, 31 
 Lam-mo, China, 97 
 
 Land's End to John o' Groat's, 
 
 195 
 Letter of Chinese students, 
 
 no 
 Liberia, 52 
 
 Lien-chou, China, 97, 100; 
 martyrs at, 91, 108-110; 
 men's hospital at, 105, 107; 
 official in, 102; 
 women's hospital, 98 
 Lien-shan official, 102 
 Life of Robert and Mary 
 
 Moffat, 146 
 Lilavati Singh, 150, 151, 152 
 Lingle, Mr., 103 
 Linyanti, Africa, 9, 10 
 Lions, adventures with, 7, 8 
 Little Bridge race, 192 
 Liverpool, 42 
 
 Livingstone, David, 1-17, 31 ; 
 birth, 3 ; 
 boyhood, 4; 
 early studies, 4-6; 
 interest in China and Af- 
 rica, 5; 
 main African journeys, 6- 
 
 15; 
 return trips to and honors 
 in Great Britain, 11-13; 
 Stanley's relief and tribute, 
 
 14; 
 unparalleled service, death, 
 and burial in Westminster 
 Abbey, 3, 13-17 
 Livingstone, Mrs., 8, 12, 146; 
 Robert, 13
 
 Index 
 
 211 
 
 Loanda, see St. Paul de Lo- 
 anda 
 
 "Locomotive habit," 41 
 
 Log-rolling, 38 
 
 London, 11 
 
 London Bicycle Club, 192 
 
 London Missionary Society, 7 
 
 Lncknow, 48, 141, 143 
 
 Ludlow, Massachusetts, fac- 
 tory conditions, 68 
 
 Mabotsa, Africa, 8 
 
 McAfee, Dr., 93 
 
 Machle, Amy, 108; 
 Dr., loi, 107, 108; 
 Mrs., 108 
 
 Manitoba, 169 
 
 Melanesians, 181-187 
 
 Melbourne, Australia, 43 
 
 Memorial tablet in New York 
 Presbyterian Building, 91 
 
 !Methodist Episcopal Church 
 and William Taylor's 
 father, Z7 
 
 Mikado, the, 81 
 
 Mile End, London, 200 
 
 Mission schooner, 181 
 
 Moffat, Robert and Mary, 6, 
 8, 146, 147 
 
 Moffitt, Dr., 44 
 
 Mohammedans, mission ef- 
 forts for, 48, 201, 204 
 
 Moravian Institute, 76 
 
 Moravians, 31 
 
 Morrison, Robert, 31 
 
 Mota, Island of, 183, 185 
 
 Mount Pisgah Church camp- 
 meeting, 119 
 
 Murata, Japanese official, 79; 
 much impressed by Chris- 
 tian book found, 80 
 
 Nagasaki, 78-81 
 
 National Cyclists' Union, 192 
 
 Neesima, Joseph Hardy, 83 
 
 Neil, the Rev. John, quoted, 
 170 
 
 New Hebrides Islands, 181 
 
 New York Herald, 14 
 
 New York School of Peda- 
 gogy,- 64 
 
 New Zealand, 176-178, 180, 
 181 
 
 Nicaragua, 50 
 
 Noldeke, Professor, 198 
 
 Norfolk Island, 183 
 
 North Carolina's first foreign 
 missionary, 122 
 
 Northwest, home mission 
 work for the, 161 
 
 Norwich, Ontario, 158 
 
 Notice-boards in Japan, 79, 
 
 84 
 Nukapu, Patteson's death at, 
 186 
 
 Oberlin College, 2^ 
 Oceanic, the, 96, 97 
 Opossum story, 47 
 Optimism, Bishop Whipple's, 
 
 32 
 Order of the Rising Sun, 84
 
 212 
 
 Index 
 
 Ottery St. Alary school, Eng- 
 land, 177, 179 
 
 Ox-back and ox-wagon travel, 
 7 
 
 Oxford University, 11, 179, 
 192 
 
 Palo Alto, California, 54 
 Panama, 50 
 
 Park College, Parkville, Mis- 
 souri, 93, 94 
 Parsees, 48 
 Paton, John G., 181 
 Patterson, Miss, 10& 
 Patteson, John Coleridge, 
 173-187; 
 birth and family ties, 176; 
 boyhood experiences, 175- 
 
 178; 
 education in Germany and 
 
 at Oxford, 179; 
 entrance on parish and mis- 
 sion work, 179-181 ; 
 Episcopal dress and duties, 
 
 182-184; 
 languages acquired, 179, 
 
 181, 185; 
 life in the South Pacific, 
 
 180-182; 
 school epidemic, 183, 184; 
 service to the Melanesians 
 and death, 184-187 
 Patteson, Sir John, and Lady, 
 
 175-177, 180 
 Paul's good fight, 21 
 
 Peabody, Kansas, Presbyte- 
 rian Church, 143, 144 
 
 Peale, Mr. and Mrs., 91, 107, 
 108 
 
 Perry, Commodore, ^y 
 
 Peru, 50 
 
 Peterboro, Canada, 42 
 
 Pitman, Isaac, 192, 195 
 
 Prayer-meeting by boys, 129 
 
 Prayer or song for little 
 children, 66 
 
 Preaching, tact and skill in, 
 127; 
 two kinds of, 26; 
 William Taylor's, 45 
 
 Presidents known by Bishop 
 Whipple, 32 
 
 Princeton Theological Semi- 
 nary, 158 
 
 Protestant Episcopal General 
 Convention, 25 
 
 Punch, London, quoted, 16, 17 
 
 Purefoy, Father, 118 
 
 Queen Victoria, 11, 31, 177 
 Queensland, 186 
 Quilimane, Africa, 11 
 
 Pail road to Winnipeg, 163 
 Ked Holes, log-rolling at, 38 
 Reed, Brother, helps missions, 
 
 - 46 
 Regina student, a, 165 
 Richards, E. H., referred to, 
 
 54 
 Ridpath, quoted, 41, 42
 
 Index 
 
 213 
 
 P-iel's rebellion, 159 
 Pobertson, James, 153-171 ; 
 birthplace, 155; 
 characteristics, 155, 157; 
 emigration of family to On- 
 tario, 156; 
 experiences as a teacher and 
 
 in college, 157, 158; 
 further studies in Prince- 
 ton and New York, 158; 
 Manitoba and the North- 
 west, 161 ; 
 marriage and pastorates, 
 
 157-160; 
 superintendent of home 
 missions in the North- 
 west, 161-170; 
 visits to Scotland and death, 
 169-171 
 Rohilkhand, India, 139, 142 
 Rome, New York, 24 
 Ecssland, British Columbia, 
 
 167 
 Royal Geographical Society, 
 
 13 
 
 St. Paul de Loanda, 10, 52 
 Sp.m-kong, China mission sta- 
 tion, 97, 98; 
 
 daily life in, 97 ; 
 
 difficulties, 98, 99 
 San Francisco, 41, 47, 96 
 Seaver, Brother, describes 
 
 William Taylor, Z7 
 Selwyn, Bishop, 177, 180; 
 
 his successor, 182 
 
 Senate, Japan's, 84 
 "Septuagint nuts to crack," 
 
 197 
 Shanghai, China, 118, 126, 
 
 129; 
 missionary conference in, 
 
 131 
 
 Shattuck School, Faribault, 
 Minnesota, 24 
 
 Shire River, 12 
 
 Shorthand, 195 
 
 Shupanga, Africa, Mrs. Liv- 
 ingstone's death at, 12 
 
 Siam, 95 
 
 Sioux Indians. 22, 24; 
 treaties with, 22 
 
 Slave-trade, 9, 14 
 
 Smallpox patient, Miss Tho- 
 burn's, 141 
 
 Smith College, Northamp- 
 ton, ^Massachusetts, 57, 67 
 
 Smith, Robertson, 198 
 
 Smoking, 193 
 
 Snakes, lesson from the, 119 
 
 South Africa. 6, 8, 44-46, 54 
 
 South America, 50 
 
 South China, 96 
 
 South Zambezi Mission, 54 
 
 Southern Baptist Convention, 
 118 
 
 Stanley, Henry M., 14 
 
 Stony ^Mountain blizzard, 60 
 
 "Stopping - places." discom- 
 forts of, 163, 166 
 
 Story of My Life, William 
 Taylor's, 46
 
 214 
 
 Index 
 
 Student Volunteer Movement 
 for Foreign Missions, 191 
 Styal, Cheshire, England, 57 
 Siisi, Livingstone's attendant, 
 
 15 
 
 Swain, Miss Clara A., 142 
 Swearing stage-drivers, 29, 
 
 168 
 Sydnej% Australia, 43 
 Syriac language, 179, 196 
 
 T'ai-p'ing rebellion, 129 
 
 Tasmania, 48 
 
 Taylor, William, 35-54, 143; 
 
 ancestry and birth, 2)1 \ 
 
 consecration and zeal in 
 reaching men, 38 ; 
 
 downs a playful class- 
 leader, 39, 40; 
 
 experiences as a missionary 
 in California, 40, 41 ; 
 
 finds open doors in Canada 
 and Great Britain, 42; 
 
 first and second tours in 
 Australia and South Af- 
 rica, 42-48, 53, 54; 
 
 Holy Land visited, 42; 
 
 India campaign, 48-50; 
 
 "locomotive habit," 41 ; 
 
 Missionary Bishop of Af- 
 rica, 51-53; 
 
 South American work, 50; 
 
 West Indies, 47 ; 
 
 work completed and coro- 
 nation, 54 
 Thoburn, Isabella, 139-152; 
 
 ancestry and early life, 140, 
 141; 
 
 education, 141, 142; 
 
 immediate response to mis- 
 sionary call, 139, 142; 
 
 Lucknow and Cawnpur 
 schools for girls founded, 
 142, 143; 
 
 Presbyterian church and 
 other addresses, 144-147; 
 
 promotion of deaconess 
 work in home field, 147, 
 148; 
 
 school at Lucknow devel- 
 oped into woman's col- 
 lege, 145, 148-150; 
 
 wonderful executive power 
 and influence, 148-152; 
 
 work suddenly finished, 151 
 Thoburn, Bishop, quoted, 144, 
 
 145 
 
 Thwing, Mr. and Mrs., 98 
 
 Tokyo, Japan, 75, 81, 84-86 
 
 Trade in laborers in Mela- 
 nesia, 186; 
 a result, 187 
 
 Training School for Nurses, 
 Chicago, 95 
 
 Travel in Africa, 7-10; 
 in Canada in 1873, 159 
 
 IVinidad, 47 
 
 Tunbridge Wells, England, 
 incident, 46 
 
 Tung-chou, China, 135 
 
 Ujiji, Africa, 14
 
 Index 
 
 215 
 
 Union Theological Seminary, 
 
 158 
 United States ami United 
 
 States government, 22, 
 
 -jd, 77, 85, 130, 133, 135 
 University of Manitoba, i6g 
 Utrecht Polytechnic Institute, 
 
 76 
 
 Verbeck, Guido Fridolin, 7Z- 
 
 87; 
 birth and happy childhood, 
 
 75, 76; 
 confirmed and trained in 
 
 languages and trade, 76; 
 emigration to United States, 
 
 7^, 77', 
 gives himself to missionary 
 
 service, 77 ; 
 goes to Japan, 78; 
 has remarkable success in 
 
 training national leaders 
 
 and translating books, 
 
 79-84; 
 later preaching and teach- 
 ing work, 84, 85 ; 
 made a citizen of Japan 
 
 and highly honored at 
 
 his death, 85-87 
 Victoria Falls, Africa, 11 
 
 Wake Forest, North Carolina, 
 
 120, 122 
 Waterloo, Iowa, 91, 92 
 Waugh, Bishop, 40 
 Weed, Thurlow, 2Z 
 
 Welfare Work, 68 
 Wellesley, Massachusetts, 70 
 Wellington, Duke of, at Eton, 
 
 177 
 West Indies, 47 
 Westminster Abbey, 3, 16, 31 
 Wheeling Female Seminary, 
 
 West Virginia, 141, 142 
 Whipple, Henry Benjamin, 
 
 19-33 ; 
 
 a good fighter for the right, 
 
 21-23 ; 
 
 birth and education, 23; 
 
 early ministerial work, 23, 
 24; 
 
 enters upon duties as 
 Bishop of Minnesota, 24; 
 
 immediate and heroic devo- 
 tion to the Indians, 24-28, 
 31, 32; 
 
 love for him of the Fari- 
 bault community, 24, 25 ; 
 
 methods of helping and 
 winning men, 25-31; 
 
 new idea converts a stage- 
 driver, 28-30; 
 
 optimistic spirit, 32; 
 
 receives many honors in 
 England, 31, 32; 
 
 reminiscences published and 
 close of life, 28, 32, 2)3 
 Wife, a missionary's, 123 
 Wilkins, Captain, on Bishop 
 
 Whipple, 27 
 Windsor Castle, 31 
 Winnebago Indians, 24
 
 2l6 
 
 Index 
 
 Winnipeg journeys, 159 
 Woman's Foreign Missionary- 
 Society's first missiona- 
 ries, 142 
 Woman's Medical College, 
 
 Chicago, 95 
 Woman's Reformatory, South 
 Framingham, Massachu- 
 setts, 95 
 Woodstock, Ontario, 156 
 Work of a bishop, 25, 26 
 
 Yang-tzu, River, 132, 133; 
 
 Valley, 99 
 Yates, Matthew Tyson, 115- 
 136; 
 
 a providential call to serv- 
 ice, 117, 118; 
 
 birth and early prayer life, 
 118-121 ; 
 
 efforts for an education, 
 120, 121 ; 
 
 foreign missionary decision, 
 122; 
 
 marriage and voyage to 
 Shanghai, 122, 123 ; 
 
 mastery of the conditions 
 and the language, 123- 
 127; 
 
 meeting Interruptions skil- 
 fully, 127, 128; 
 
 pressing out into the coun- 
 try, 128, 129; 
 
 return home on furlough, 
 and later visit to Europe, 
 129-131 ; 
 
 rules for an aggressive na- 
 tive Church, 131, 132; 
 
 survey of a line of mission- 
 ary attack, 132, 133; 
 
 vice-consul-general, closing 
 labors, and death, 133- 
 136 
 Yukon River, 169 
 
 Zambezi River, 8, 12 
 Zanzibar, 16 
 Zeist, Holland, 75
 
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