Glimpses of old Glasgow

Foreign Missionaries

Rev. Robert Moffat, D.D.

I CAN easily recall the night when I first saw Robert Moffat, the great African missionary. It was in the church of Dr. Wardlaw, which was crowded to the door. When Moffat stepped on to the platform he was received with a genuine Scottish cheer. Above the ordinary stature, he had a benevolent cast of countenance and frank eyes, from which truth looked out. His attitude was most unassuming, and he was visibly affected by the appreciation shown by the auditory. One part of his address was very interesting. I shall endeavour to give it as nearly as possible in his own words:-

"When I was a boy I used to think that it was not fair to me that my mother should make me acquire the art of knitting. You see I thought girls only should be taught this accomplishment. But she was wiser than I, and in after years I blessed her forethought in this and many other things. Far away in Africa - far from the comforts of home, with no white woman to look after one's buttons and stockings, I found that what I had learned in boyhood's days was now of use to me. It is an old proverb that if you keep anything for seven years, some time a use will be found for it; and in this case the little knowledge I had of household affairs was not 'a dangerous thing,' but of incalculable benefit to me. 'What's learned's easily cairried,' I once heard an old Scotsman say, and you can see the truth of it.

"I have been so circumstanced in my journeyings in Africa that I have been my own washerwoman and ironer. At my work at washing our sisters or wives in bonny Scotland would have been much amused, but I can assure you I was delighted with it, and felt inexpressibly pleased when I put on a clean shirt of my own dressing. Of the so-called ironing permit me to remain silent. To these various qualifications I added tailoring. Looking back on my work as a tailor I am not altogether ashamed. Of course my friends of the needle would have mocked my efforts at making clothing, but in the African wilds you would not expect the same style as in this city.

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"Let me finish these reminiscences with an instance of how a man can adapt himself to circumstances. At home we have trunks, boxes, or other receptacles in which to stow our clothes; in Africa you must do without these. The wardrobe in which I put my scanty underclothing was - an old shirt-sleeve."

The humorous way in which Moffat described the hardships of his life among the children of Ham delighted the people who were present, and the laughter was loud when he told of his experiences as washerwoman and tailor. But laughter ceased when the speaker told the story of Africaner, a man capable of wonderful achievements, but whose record was not good. The interest deepened as he told how the power of the gospel affected this sable chief - a power which made the man of turbulence and blood a devoted Christian, full of the spirit of Him who broke not the bruised reed nor quenched the smoking flax.

I was privileged to see and hear Moffat at various times, but the one occasion which stands out most strikingly is that on which he addressed a great missionary meeting in the Kibble Palace, Botanic Gardens, Glasgow. Of the veteran missionary's address I shall only say that it was, as all his speeches were, full of faith, hope, and charity - faith that God would bring to a happy conclusion the labours of those who strove to spread abroad the knowledge of His Son; hope that ere long the woes of Africa would come to an end; and charity, that the men who differed from him in opinion as to what should be done to help Africa and the Africans did so honestly.

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I noticed that although he appeared in fairly good health, there was something which suggested that he felt the hour was rapidly approaching when the silver cord would be loosed and the golden bowl broken. This thought was strengthened by a brief conversation which we had. In it the name of the martyred Williams being mentioned, he raised his eyes heavenward for a moment, and in a solemn tone of voice said -

"Happy Williams! He sealed his testimony with his blood, and now among many like-minded who loved not their lives but freely gave them for the sake of Him whose love for us led Him to die upon the cross, he stands, perhaps not the least honoured. Soon I must leave this place and go where he is. Ah! how wondrous the thought! Stephen and Huss and Wishart and Williams gathered together round the same Lord! Think what it will be to be there, and think also that Jesus will receive each and all of those who believe in Him, although they have done little for Him compared with those who have been martyred in His service." The good old man paused for a moment, and his lips moved no doubt in prayer.

In these recollections of Robert Moffat I omit any reference to his life in Africa. I shall therefore content myself by adapting for this sketch the biblical style of biography, and write only - Robert Moffat, born December 21, 1795, having served his generation by the will of God, and made known in South Africa the love of the Father and of the Son to the human race, fell on sleep on Thursday, August 10, 1883. He rests from his labours, and his works do follow him.