Birth—The Cumberland Valley—Parentage—Brothers
and Sisters, Father, Mother, Grandfather—Removal
to the “Hermitage”—Life on the Farm—In the
Home—Stories of Childhood and Youth.
Native Endowments—Influence of the Old Home—A
Country Schoolmaster—Hunterstown Academy—Teaching
School—Dunlap’s Creek Academy—Profession
of Religion—Jefferson College—Recollections
of a Classmate—The Faculty—The Class of 1857—A
Semi-Centennial Letter.
Mother and Foreign Missions—Beaver Academy—Decision
to be a Minister—Western Theological
Seminary—The Faculty—Revival—Interest in Missions—Licentiate—Considering
Duty as to Missions—Decision—Delaware,
Ohio—Delay in Going—Ordination—Marriage—Going
at Last.
Bound to Shantung, China—The Voyage—Hardships
and Trials on the Way—At Shanghai—Bound for Chefoo—Vessel
on the Rocks—Wanderings on Shore—Deliverance
and Arrival at Chefoo—By Shentza to
Tengchow.
The Mateer Dwelling—Tengchow as It Was—The
Beginning of Missions There—The Kwan Yin Temple—Making
a Stove and Coal-press—Left Alone in the
Temple—Its Defects—Building a New House—Home
Life.
Not a Dreamer—Tenderness of Heart—Regeneration—Religious
Reserve—Record of Religious Experiences—Depression
and Relief—Unreserved Consecration—Maturity
of Religious Life—Loyalty to Convictions.
Acquiring the Language—Hindrances—Beginning to
Speak Chinese—Chapel at Tengchow—Province of
Shantung—Modes of Travel—Some Experiences in
Travel—First Country Trip—Chinese Inns—A Four
Weeks’ Itineration—To Wei Hsien—Hatred of Foreigners—Disturbance—Itinerating
with Julia—Chinese
Converts—To the Provincial Capital and Tai An—Curtailing
His Itinerations—Later Trips.
The School Begun—Education and Missions—First
Pupils—Means of Support—English Excluded—Growth
of School—A Day’s Programme—Care of
Pupils—Discipline—An Attempted Suicide—Conversion
of a Pupil—First Graduates—Reception After
Furlough—An Advance—Two Decades of the School.
Contributions to the Periodicals—English Books—The
Shanghai Mission Press—Temporary Superintendency—John
Mateer—Committee on School
Books—Earlier Chinese Books—School Books—Mandarin
Dictionary—Mandarin Lessons—Care as
to Publications—Pecuniary Returns.
Reasons for Such Work—The Church at Tengchow—Discipline—Conversion
of School Boys—Stated Supply
at Tengchow—Pastor—As a Preacher—The Scattered
Sheep—Miao of Chow Yuen—Ingatherings—Latest
Country Visitations—“Methods of Missions”—Presbytery
of Shantung—Presbytery in the Country—Synod
of China—Moderator of Synod—In the
General Assembly.
“The College of Shantung”—The Equipment—Physical
and Chemical Apparatus—Gathering the Apparatus—The
Headship Laid Down—The Anglo-Chinese
College—Problem of Location and Endowment—Transfer
of College to Wei Hsien—A New President—“The
Shantung Christian University”—Personal Removal
to Wei Hsien—Temporary President—Official
Separation—The College of To-day.
Achievements—Early Indications—Self-Development—Shop—Early
Necessities—As a Help in Mission
Work—Visitors—Help to Employment for Natives—Filling
Orders—A Mathematical Problem—Exhibitions.
First Missionary Conference—The Chinese Language—Second
Missionary Conference—Consultation as to
New Version of Scriptures—The Plan—Selection of
Translators—Translators at Work—Difficulties—Style—Sessions—Final
Meeting—New Testament
Finished—Lessons Learned—Conference of 1907—Translators
of the Old Testament.
Trials—Deaths—The “Rebels”—Tientsin Massacre—Japanese
War with China—Boxer Uprising—Famine—Controversies—English
in the College—Pleasures—Distinctions
and Honors—Journeys—Furloughs—Marriage—The
Siberian Trip—Scenes of Early Life.
The Last Summer—Increasing Illness—Taken to
Tsingtao—The End—A Prayer—Service at Tsingtao—Funeral
at Chefoo—Tributes of Dr. Corbett, Dr.
Hayes, Dr. Goodrich, Mr. Baller, Mrs. A. H.
Mateer—West Shantung Mission—English Baptist
Mission—Presbyterian Board—Secretary Brown—Biographer—“Valiant
for the Truth.”
INTRODUCTION
It is a privilege to comply with the request of
Dr. Fisher to write a brief introduction to his
biography of the late Calvin W. Mateer, D.D.,
LL.D. I knew Dr. Mateer intimately, corresponded
with him for thirteen years and visited him in China.
He was one of the makers of the new China, and his
life forms a part of the history of Christian missions
which no student of that subject can afford to overlook.
He sailed from New York in 1863, at the age
of twenty-eight, with his young wife and Rev.
and Mrs. Hunter Corbett, the journey to China
occupying six months in a slow and wretchedly uncomfortable
sailing vessel. It is difficult now to
realize that so recently as 1863 a voyage to the far
East was so formidable an undertaking. Indeed, the
hardships of that voyage were so great that the health
of some members of the party was seriously impaired.
Difficulties did not end when the young missionaries
arrived at their destination. The people
were not friendly; the conveniences of life were few;
the loneliness and isolation were exceedingly trying;
but the young missionaries were undaunted and
pushed their work with splendid courage and faith.
Mr. Corbett soon became a leader in evangelistic
work, but Dr. Mateer, while deeply interested in
evangelistic work and helping greatly in it, felt
chiefly drawn toward educational work. In 1864,
one year after his arrival, he and his equally gifted
and devoted wife managed to gather six students.
There were neither text-books, buildings, nor assistants;
but with a faith as strong as it was sagacious
Dr. and Mrs. Mateer set themselves to the task of
building up a college. One by one buildings were
secured, poor and humble indeed, but sufficing for
a start. The missionary made his own text-books
and manufactured much of the apparatus with his
own hands. He speedily proved himself an educator
and administrator of exceptional ability. Increasing
numbers of young Chinese gathered about him.
The college grew. From the beginning, Mr. Mateer
insisted that it should give its training in the Chinese
language, that the instruction should be of the most
thorough kind, and that it should be pervaded throughout
by the Christian spirit. When, after thirty-five
years of unremitting toil, advancing years compelled
him to lay down the burden of the presidency,
he had the satisfaction of seeing the college recognized
as one of the very best colleges in all Asia. It continues
under his successors in larger form at Wei
Hsien, where it now forms the Arts College of the
Shantung Christian University.
Dr. Mateer was famous not only as an educator,
but as an author and translator. After his retirement
from the college he devoted himself almost
wholly to literary work, save for one year, when a
vacancy in the presidency of the college again devolved
its cares temporarily upon him. His knowledge of
the Chinese language was extraordinary. He prepared
many text-books and other volumes in Chinese,
writing some himself and translating others. The
last years of his life were spent as chairman of a
committee for the revision of the translation of the
Bible into Chinese, a labor to which he gave himself
with loving zeal.
Dr. Mateer was a man of unusual force of character;
an educator, a scholar and an executive of
high capacity. Hanover College, of which Dr. D.
W. Fisher was then president, early recognized his
ability and success by bestowing upon him the honorary
degree of Doctor of Divinity, and in 1903 his
alma mater added the degree of Doctor of Laws.
We mourn that the work no longer has the benefit of
his counsel; but he builded so well that the results
of his labors will long endure, and his name will
always have a prominent place in the history of
missionary work in the Chinese empire.
Dr. Fisher has done a great service to the cause
of missions and to the whole church in writing the
biography of such a man. A college classmate
and lifelong friend of Dr. Mateer, and himself a
scholar and educator of high rank, he has written
with keen insight, with full comprehension of his
subject, and with admirable clearness and power.
I bespeak for this volume and for the great work in
China to which Dr. Mateer consecrated his life the
deep and sympathetic interest of all who may read
this book.
Arthur Judson Brown
156 Fifth Avenue, New York City,
April 13th, 1911
PREFACE
When I was asked to become the biographer
of Dr. Mateer, I had planned to do other
literary work, and had made some preparation
for it; but I at once put that aside and entered
on the writing of this book. I did this for several reasons.
Though Dr. Mateer and I had never been
very intimate friends, yet, beginning with our college
and seminary days, and on to the close of his life, we
had always been very good friends. I had occasionally
corresponded with him, and, being in hearty
sympathy with the cause of foreign missions, I had
kept myself so well informed as to his achievements
that I had unusual pleasure in officially conferring
on him the first of the distinctions by which his name
came to be so well adorned. As his college classmate,
I had joined with the other survivors in recognizing
him as the one of our number whom we most
delighted to honor. When I laid down my office
of college president, he promptly wrote me, and
suggested that I occupy my leisure by a visit to China,
and that I use my tongue and pen to aid the cause
of the evangelization of that great people. Only
a few months before his death he sent me extended
directions for such a visit. When—wholly unexpectedly—the
invitation came to me to prepare his
biography, what could I do but respond favorably?
It has been my sole object in this book to reveal
to the reader Dr. Mateer, the man, the Christian,
the missionary, both his inner and his outer life,
just as it was. In doing this I have very often availed
myself of his own words. Going beyond these, I have
striven neither to keep back nor to exaggerate anything
that deserves a place in this record. All the
while the preparation of this book has been going
forward in my hands my appreciation of the magnitude
of the man and of his work has been increasing.
Great is the story of his career. If this does not
appear so to any reader who has the mind and the
heart to appreciate it, then the fault is mine. It,
in that case, is in the telling, and not in the matter
of the book, that the defect lies.
So many relatives and acquaintances of Dr. Mateer
have contributed valuable material, on which I
have drawn freely, that I dare not try to mention
them here by name. It is due, however, to Mrs.
J. M. Kirkwood to acknowledge that much of the
chapter on “The Old Home” is based on a monograph
she prepared in advance of the writing of this
biography. It is due also to Mrs. Ada H. Mateer
to acknowledge the very extensive and varied assistance
which she has rendered in the writing of this
book: first, by putting the material already on hand
into such shape that the biographer’s labors have
been immensely lightened, and later, by furnishing
with her own pen much additional information, and
by her wise, practical suggestions.
D. W. F.
Washington, 1911
I THE OLD HOME
“There are all the fond recollections and associations of my
youth.”—JOURNAL, March 4, 1857.
Calvin Wilson Mateer, of whose life
and work this book is to tell, was born in
Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, near
Shiremanstown, a few miles west of Harrisburg, on
January 9, 1836.
This Cumberland valley, in which he first saw the
light, is one of the fairest regions in all our country.
Beginning at the great, broad Susquehanna, almost
in sight of his birthplace, it stretches far away, a
little to the southwest, on past Chambersburg, and
across the state line, and by way of Hagerstown, to
its other boundary, drawn by a second and equally
majestic stream, the historic Potomac. Physically
considered, the splendid Shenandoah valley, still
beyond in Virginia, is a further extension of the same
depression. It is throughout a most attractive
panorama of gently rolling slopes and vales, of fertile
and highly cultivated farms, of great springs of purest
water and of purling brooks, of little parks of trees
spared by the woodman’s ax, of comfortable and
tasteful rural homes, of prosperous towns and villages
where church spires and school buildings and the conveniences
of modern civilization bear witness to the
high character of the people,—all of this usually set
like a picture in a framework of the blue and not very
rugged, or very high, wooded mountains between
which, in their more or less broken ranges, the entire
valley lies.
True, it was winter when this infant first looked
out on that world about him, but it was only waiting
for spring to take off its swaddling of white, and to
clothe it with many-hued garments. Twenty-eight
years afterward, almost to the very day, he, cast
ashore on the coast of China, was struggling over
the roadless and snow covered and, to him, wholly
unknown ground toward the place near which he
was to do the work of his life, and where his body
rests in the grave. When he died, in his seventy-third
year, the spiritual spring for which he had
prayed and longed and labored had not yet fully
come, but there were many indications of its not
distant approach.
John Mateer, the father of Calvin, was born in this
beautiful Cumberland valley, on a farm which was a
part of a large tract of land entered by the Mateers
as first settlers, out of whose hands, however, it had
almost entirely passed at the date when this biography
begins. The mother of Calvin was born in the
neighboring county of York. Her maiden name was
Mary Nelson Diven. Both father and mother were
of that Scotch-Irish descent to which especially
Pennsylvania and Virginia are indebted for so many
of their best people; and they both had behind them
a long line of sturdy, honorable and God-fearing
ancestors.
At the time of Calvin’s birth his parents were living
in a frame house which is still standing; and though,
with the passing of years, it has much deteriorated,
it gives evidence that it was a comfortable though
modest home for the little family.
One of the employments of his father while resident
there was the running of a water mill for hulling clover
seed; and Calvin tells somewhere of a recollection
that he used to wish when a very little boy that he
were tall enough to reach a lever by which he could
turn on more water to make the mill go faster,—a
childish anticipation of his remarkable mechanical
ability and versatility in maturer years.
Calvin was the oldest of seven children—five
brothers and two sisters; in the order of age, Calvin
Wilson, Jennie, William Diven, John Lowrie, Robert
McCheyne, Horace Nelson and Lillian, of whom
Jennie, William, Robert and Horace are still living.
Of these seven children, Calvin and Robert became
ministers of the gospel in the Presbyterian Church,
and missionaries in Shantung, China; John for five
years had charge of the Presbyterian Mission Press
at Shanghai, and later of the Congregational Press at
Peking, where he died; Lillian taught in the Girls’
School at Tengchow, and, after her marriage to Rev.
William S. Walker, of the Southern Baptist Mission,
in the school at Shanghai, until the failing health of
her husband compelled her to return to the United
States; William for a good while was strongly disposed
to offer himself for the foreign missionary service,
and reluctantly acting on advice, turned from it
to business. Jennie married an exceptionally promising
young Presbyterian minister, and both offered
themselves to the foreign work and were under
appointment to go to China when health considerations
compelled them to remain in their homeland.
Some years after his death she married a college professor
of fine ability. Horace is a professor in the
University of Wooster, and a practicing physician.
In view of this very condensed account of the remarkable
life and work of the children in this household,
one may well crave to know more about the
parents, and about the home life in the atmosphere
of which they were nurtured. Their father and
mother both had the elementary education which
could be furnished in their youth by the rural schools
during the brief terms for which they were held each
year. In addition, the mother attended a select
school in Harrisburg for a time. Both father and
mother built well on this early foundation, forming
the habit of wise, careful reading. Both were professing
Christians when they were married, and in
infancy Calvin was baptized in the old Silver Spring
Church, near which they resided. Later the father
became a ruling elder in the Presbyterian church
to which they had removed their membership. In
this capacity he was highly esteemed, his pastor
relying especially on his just, discerning judgment.
He had a beautiful tenor voice and a line musical
sense, and he led the choir for a number of years.
Few laymen in the church at large were better informed
as to its doctrines and history, and few were
more familiar with the Bible. There was in the
church a library from which books were regularly
brought home; religious papers were taken and read
by the whole family, and thus all were acquainted
with the current news of the churches, and with the
progress of the gospel in the world.
In the conduct of his farm Mr. Mateer was thrifty,
industrious and economical. His land did not yield
very bountifully, but all of its products were so well
husbanded that notwithstanding the size of his family
he yet accumulated considerable property. Though
somewhat reluctant at first to have his boys one after
another leave him, thus depriving him of their help
on the farm, he aided each to the extent of his ability,
and as they successively fitted themselves for larger
lives he rejoiced in their achievements.
Mr. Mateer died at Monmouth, Illinois, in 1875.
When the tidings reached Calvin out in China, he
wrote home to his mother a beautiful letter, in which
among other things he said: “Father’s death was
eminently characteristic of his life—modest, quiet
and self-suppressed. He died the death of the
righteous and has gone to a righteous man’s reward.
The message he sent John and me was not necessary;
that he should ‘die trusting in Jesus’ was not news to
us, for we knew how he had lived.”
DR. MATEER’S MOTHER
By reading the records that have been at my command
I have gotten the conviction that the mother
was the stronger character, or at least that she more
deeply impressed herself on the children. When
Calvin made his last visit to this country, he was asked
whose influence had been most potent in his life, and
he at once replied, “Mother’s.” In his personal
appearance he strongly resembled her. If one could
have wished for any change in his character, it might
have been that he should have had in it just a little
bit more of the ideality of his father, and just a little
bit less of the intense realism of his mother. Some
of his mother’s most evident characteristics were in
a measure traceable as an inheritance from her
father, William Diven; for example, the place to
which she assigned education among the values of
life. He was a man of considerable literary attainments,
for his day, and for one residing out in the
country; so that when in later years he came to make
his home with the Mateers he brought with him a
collection of standard books, thus furnishing additional
and substantial reading for the family. Even
Shakspere and Burns were among the authors, though
they were not placed where the children could have
access to them, and were made familiar to them only
by the grandfather’s quotation of choice passages.
When his daughter was a little girl, so intense was his
desire that she should have as good an education as
practicable, that if the weather was too inclement for
her to walk to the schoolhouse he used to carry her
on his back. It was her lifelong regret that her education
was so defective; and it is said that after she was
seventy years of age, once she dreamed that she was
sent to school at Mount Holyoke, and she awoke in
tears to find that she was white-haired, and that it was
only a dream. Although it involved the sacrifice of
her own strength and ease, she never faltered in her
determination that her children should have the
educational advantages to which she had aspired,
but never attained; and in what they reached in this
direction she had a rich satisfaction. Toward every
other object which she conceived to be good and true,
and to be within the scope of her life, she set herself
with like persistence, and strength, and willingness
for self-sacrifice. Her piety was deep, thorough and
all-controlling; but with her it was a principle rather
than a sentiment. Its chief aim was the promotion
of the glory of the infinitely holy God, though as she
neared the visible presence of her Saviour, this
softened somewhat into a conscious love and faith
toward him. She survived her husband twenty-one
years, and died at the advanced age of seventy-nine.
When the tidings of this came to her children in China,
their chief lament was, “How we shall miss her
prayers!”
When Calvin was about five years old, his parents
bought a farm twelve miles north of Gettysburg, near
what is now York Springs, in Adams County. It
is some twenty miles from the place of his birth, and
beyond the limits of the Cumberland valley. Even
now it is a comparatively out-of-the-way spot, reached
only by a long drive from the nearest railway station;
then it was so secluded that the Mateers called the
house into which they removed the “Hermitage.”
Here the family continued to reside until about the
time of Calvin’s graduation from college. Then a
second and much longer move was made, to Mercer
County, in western Pennsylvania. Still later, a third
migration brought them to Illinois. It is to the home
in Adams County that Calvin refers in the line quoted
at the head of this chapter, as the place where “were
all the fond recollections and associations” of his
youth.
The farm was not very large, and the soil was only
moderately productive, notwithstanding the labor and
skill that the Mateers put upon it. In picking off
the broken slate stones which were turned up thick
by the plow, the children by hard experience were
trained in patient industry as to small details. At
least the two elder frequently beguiled the tedium
of this task “by reciting portions of the Westminster
Catechism and long passages of Scripture.” Another
really tedious occupation, which, however, was converted
into a sort of late autumn feast of ingathering,
was shared by the whole family, but was especially
appreciated by the children. This was the nut
harvest of the “shellbark” hickory trees of the forest.
As many as fifty or more bushels were gathered in a
season; the sale of these afforded a handsome supplement
to the income of the household. Along the side
of the farm flows a beautiful stream, still bearing its
Indian name of Bermudgeon, and in front of the house
is a smaller creek; and in these Calvin fished and set
traps for the muskrats, and experimented with little
waterwheels, and learned to swim. Up on an elevation
still stand the old house and barn, both constructed
of the red brick once so largely used in the
eastern section of Pennsylvania. Both of these are
still in use. Though showing signs of age and lack
of care, they are witnesses that for those days the
Mateers were quite up to the better standard of living
customary among their neighbors. “This growing
family,” says Mrs. Kirkwood (Jennie), “was a hive
of industry, making most of the implements used both
indoors and out, and accomplishing many tasks long
since relegated to the factory and the shop. Necessity
was with them the mother not only of invention, but
of execution as well. All were up early in the morning
eating breakfast by candlelight even in summer,
and ready before the sun had risen for a day’s work
that continued long after twilight had fallen.” In
the barn they not only housed their horses and cattle
and the field products, but also manufactured most
of the implements for their agricultural work. Here
Calvin first had his mechanical gifts called into
exercise, sometimes on sleds and wagons and farm
tools, and sometimes on traps and other articles of
youthful sport.
In this home family worship was held twice each
day,—in the morning often before the day had fully
dawned, and in the evening when the twilight was
vanishing into night. In this service usually there
were not only the reading of Scripture and the offering
of prayer, but also the singing of praise, the fine
musical voice of the father and his ability to lead in
the tunes making this all the more effective. Of
course, on the Sabbath the entire family, young and
old, so far as practicable, attended services when held
in the Presbyterian church not far away. But that
was not all of the religious observances. The Sabbath
was sacredly kept, after the old-fashioned manner
of putting away the avoidable work of the week, and
of giving exceptional attention to sacred things. Mrs.
Kirkwood, who was near enough in age to be the
“chum” of Calvin, writes: “Among the many living
pictures which memory holds of those years, there is
one of a large, airy, farmhouse kitchen, on a Sabbath
afternoon. The table, with one leaf raised to afford
space for ‘Scott’ and ‘Henry’ stands between two
doors that look out upon tree-shaded, flower-filled
yards. There sits the mother, with open books spread
all about her, studying the Bible lesson for herself and
for her children. Both parents and children attended a
pastor’s class in which the old Sunday School Union
Question Book was used. In this many references were
given which the children were required to commit.
Older people read them from their Bibles, but these
children memorized them. Some of the longer ones
could never be repeated in after times without
awakening associations of the muscularizing mental
tussles of those early days.” It was a part of the
religious training of each child in that household,
just as soon as able to read, to commit to memory
the Westminster Shorter Catechism,—not so as to
blunder through the answers in some sort of fashion,
but so as to recite them all, no matter how long or
difficult, without mistaking so much as an article or a
preposition.
Stories are handed down concerning the boy Calvin
at home, some of which foreshadow characteristics
of his later years. One of these must suffice here.
The “Hermitage,” when the Mateers came into it,
was popularly believed to be haunted by a former
occupant whose grave was in an old deserted Episcopal
churchyard about a mile away. The grave was
sunken, and it was asserted that it would not remain
filled. It was also rumored that in the gloomy woods
by which the place was surrounded a headless man
had been seen wandering at night. Nevertheless
the Mateer children often went up there on a Sabbath
afternoon, and entered the never-closed door, to view
the Bible and books and desk, which were left just
as they had been when services long before had ceased
to be held; or wandered about the graves, picking the
moss from the inscriptions on the headstones, in
order to see who could find the oldest. It was a
place that, of course, was much avoided at night;
for had not restless white forms been seen moving
about among these burial places of the dead? The
boy Calvin had been in the habit of running by it
in the late evening with fast-beating heart. One
dark night he went and climbed up on the graveyard
fence, resolved to sit in that supremely desolate and
uncanny spot till he had mastered the superstitious
fear associated with it. The owls hooted, and other
night sounds were intensified by the loneliness, but
he successfully passed his chosen ordeal, and won a
victory worth the effort. In a youthful way he was
disciplining himself for more difficult ordeals in China.
II THE MAKING OF THE MAN
“It has been said, and with truth, that when one has finished
his course in an ordinary college, he knows just enough to be
sensible of his own ignorance.”—LETTER TO HIS MOTHER, January
15, 1857.
The letter from which the sentence at the head
of this chapter is taken was written a week
after Mateer had reached his twenty-first year
and when he was almost half advanced in his senior
year in college. Later in the letter he says: “Improvement
and advancement need not, and should
not, stop with a college life. We should be advancing
in knowledge so long as we live.” With this understanding
we may somewhat arbitrarily set his graduation
from college as terminating the period of his life
covered by what I have designated as “the making
of the man.”
Back of all else lay his native endowments of body
and of mind. Physically he was exceptionally free
from both inherited and acquired weaknesses. In a
letter which he wrote to his near relatives in this
country on the occasion of his seventieth birthday,
he said, “I have not only lived, but I have enjoyed
an exceptional measure of health.” At no period was
he laid aside by protracted sickness. At the same
time, this must not be understood to signify that he
had one of those iron constitutions that seem to be
capable of enduring without harm every sort of
exposure except such as in its nature must be mortal.
In that part of his Journal covering portions of his
college and seminary work he often tells of a lassitude
for which he blames himself as morally at fault, but
in which a physician would have seen symptoms of a
low bodily tone. Bad food, lack of exercise and ill
treatment on the voyage which first brought him to
China left him with a temporary attack of dyspepsia.
Occasionally he had dysentery, and once he had
erysipelas. At no time did he regard himself as so
rugged in constitution that he did not need to provide
himself with proper clothing and shelter, so far
as practicable. Nevertheless it was because of the
sound physique inherited from his parents, and fostered
by his country life during early youth, that
without any serious breaking down of health or
strength he was able to endure the privations and the
toils and cares of his forty-five years in China.
As to his native mental endowments, no one would
have been more ready than he to deny that he was a
“genius,” if by this is meant that he had an ability
offhand to do important things for the accomplishment
of which others require study and effort. If,
as to this, any exception ought to be made in his favor,
it would be concerning some of the applied sciences and
machinery, and possibly mathematics. He certainly
had an extraordinary aptitude especially as to the
former of these. While he himself regarded his work
in the Mandarin as perhaps the greatest of his achievements,
he had no such talent for the mastery of foreign
languages that he did not need time and toil and
patience to learn them. In college his best standing
was not in Latin or Greek. In China other missionaries
have been able to preach in the native
tongue after as short a period of preparation; and
the perfect command of the language which he attained
came only after years of ceaseless toil.
Such were his native physical and mental endowments:
a good, sound, though not unusually rugged,
bodily constitution; and an intellect vigorous in all
of its faculties, which was in degree not so superior
as to set him on a pedestal by himself, yet was very
considerably above the average even of college
students.
Concerning the qualities of his heart and of his will
it is best to wait and speak later in this volume.
In the making of a man native endowments are
only the material out of which and on which to build.
Beyond these, what we become depends on our
opportunities and the use to which we put them.
The atmosphere of the old home had much to do
with the unfolding of the subsequent life and character
of Mateer. Some of his leading qualities were there
grown into his being.
Other powerful influences also had a large share in
his development. About three quarters of a mile
from the “Hermitage” stood a township schoolhouse,
a small brick building, “guiltless alike of paint
or comfort,” most primitive in its furnishing, and
open for instruction only five or six months each year,
and this in the winter. The pressure of work in the
house and on the farm never was allowed to interrupt
the attendance of the Mateer children at this little
center of learning for the neighborhood. Of course,
the teachers usually were qualified only to conduct
the pupils over the elementary branches, and no
provision was made in the curriculum for anything
beyond these. But it so happened that for two winters
Calvin had as his schoolmaster there James Duffield,
who is described by one of his pupils still living as
“a genius in his profession, much in advance of his
times, and quite superior to those who preceded and
to those who came after him. In appearance Duffield
was awkward and shy. His large hands and feet
were ever in his way, except when before a class;
then he was suddenly at ease, absorbed in the work
of teaching, alert, full of vitality, with an enthusiasm
for mastery, and an intellectual power that made
every subject alive with interest, leaving his impress
upon each one of his pupils.” Algebra was not recognized
as falling within the legitimate instruction, and
no suspicion that any boy or girl was studying it
entered the minds of the plain farmers who constituted
the official visitors. One day a friend of the teacher,
a scholarly man, came in at the time when the examinations
were proceeding, and the teacher sprang a
surprise by asking this friend whether he would like
to see one of his pupils solve a problem in algebra.
He had discerned the mathematical bent of the lad,
Calvin Mateer, and out of school hours and just for
the satisfaction of it he had privately been giving
the boy lessons in that study. When an affirmative
response was made by the stranger, Calvin went to
the blackboard and soon covered half of it with a
solution of an algebraic problem. Surprised and
delighted, the stranger tested the lad with problem
after problem, some of them the hardest in the text-book
in use, only to find him able to solve them. It
would have been difficult to discover which of the
three principal parties to the examination, the visitor,
the teacher, or the pupil, was most gratified by the
outcome. There can be no question that this country
school-teacher had much to do with awakening the
mathematical capabilities and perhaps others of the
intellectual gifts which characterized that lad in
manhood and throughout life.
When Calvin was in his seventeenth year, he started
in his pursuit of higher education, entering a small
academy at Hunterstown, eight miles from the
“Hermitage.” In this step he had the stimulating
encouragement of his mother, whose quenchless
passion for education has already been described.
His father probably would at that time have preferred
that he should remain at home and help on the farm;
and occasionally, for some years, the question whether
he ought not to have fallen in with the paternal wish
caused him serious thought. As it was, he came home
from the academy in the spring, and in the autumn
and also at harvest, to assist in the work.
The first term he began Latin, and the second term
Greek, and he kept his mathematics well in hand,
thus distinctly setting his face toward college. But
his pecuniary means were narrow, and in the winter of
1853-54 he had to turn aside to teach a country school
some three miles from his home. In a brief biographical
sketch which, by request of his college
classmates, he furnished for the fortieth anniversary
of their graduation he says: “This was a hard experience.
I was not yet eighteen and looked much
younger. Many of the scholars were young men and
women, older than I, and there was a deal of rowdyism
in the district. I held my own, however, and finished
with credit, and grew in experience more than in any
other period of my life.”
When the school closed he returned to the academy,
which by that time had passed into the hands of
S. B. Mercer, in whom he found a teacher of exceptional
ability, both as to scholarship and as to the
stimulation of his students to do and to be the best
that was possible to them. In the spring of 1855
Mr. Mercer left the Hunterstown Academy, and
went to Merrittstown, Fayette County, Pennsylvania,
where he took charge of the Dunlaps Creek Academy.
Calvin, influenced by his attachment to his teacher,
and also by his intention to enter Jefferson College,
situated in a neighboring county, went with him.
Here he made his home, with other students, in the
house occupied by the Mercers. For teaching two
classes, one in geometry and one in Greek, he received
his tuition. For the ostensible reason that he had
come so far to enter the academy he was charged a
reduced price for his board. All the way down to
the completion of his course in the theological seminary
he managed to live upon the means furnished in part
from home, and substantially supplemented by his
own labors; but he had to practice rigid economy.
It was while at Merrittstown that he made a public
profession of religion. This was only a few months
before he entered college. He found in Dr. Samuel
Wilson, the pastor of the Presbyterian church, a
preacher and a man who won his admiration and
esteem, and who so encouraged and directed him that
he took this step.
In the autumn of 1855 he entered the junior class of
Jefferson College, at Canonsburg, Pennsylvania. In
those days it was customary for students to be
admitted further advanced as to enrollment than at
present. I had myself preceded Mateer one year,
entering as a sophomore in the same class into which
he first came as a junior. One reason for this state
of things was that the requirements were considerably
lower than they now are; and they were often laxly
enforced. Then, because the range of studies required
was very limited in kind, consisting until the junior
year almost exclusively of Latin, Greek and mathematics,
it was possible for the preparatory schools to
carry the work of their students well up into the
curriculum of the college. Mateer had the advantage,
besides, of such an excellent instructor as Professor
Mercer, and of experience in teaching. He says: “I
was poorly prepared for this class, but managed to
squeeze in. The professor of Latin wanted me to
make up some work which I had not done; but I
demurred, and I recollect saying to him, ‘If after a
term you still think I ought to make it up, I will do
it, or fall back to the sophomore class.’ I never
heard of it afterwards. I was very green and bashful
when I went to college, an unsophisticated farmer’s
boy from a little country academy. I knew little or
nothing of the ways of the world.”
As his classmate in college, and otherwise closely
associated with him as a fellow-student, I knew him
well. I remember still with a good deal of distinctness
his appearance; he was rather tall, light-haired, with
a clear and intelligent countenance, and a general
physique that indicated thorough soundness of body,
though not excessively developed in any member.
When I last saw him at Los Angeles a few years ago, I
could perceive no great change in his looks, except
such as is inevitable from the flight of years, and from
his large and varied experience of life. It seems to
me that it ought to be easy for any of his acquaintances
of later years to form for themselves a picture
of him in his young manhood at the college and at
the theological seminary. So far as I can now recall,
he came to college unheralded as to what might be
expected of him there. He did not thrust himself
forward; but it was not long until by his work and
his thorough manliness, it became evident that in him
the class had received an addition that was sure to
count heavily in all that was of importance to a student.
I do not think that he joined any of the Greek
letter secret societies, though these were at the height
of their prosperity there at that time. In the literary
societies he discharged well and faithfully his duties,
but he did not stand out very conspicuously in the
exercises required of the members. In those days
there was plenty of “college politics,” sometimes very
petty, and sometimes not very creditable, though
not wholly without profit as a preparation for the
“rough-and-tumble” of life in after years, but in
this Mateer did not take much part. Most of us
were still immature enough to indulge in pranks that
afforded us fun, but which were more an expression of
our immaturity than we then imagined; and Mateer
participated in one of these in connection with the
Frémont-Buchanan campaign in 1856. A great Republican
meeting was held at Canonsburg, and
some of us students appeared in the procession as a
burlesque company of Kansas “border ruffians.”
We were a sadly disgraceful-looking set. Of one thing
I am sure, that while Mateer gave himself constantly
to his duties and refrained from most of the silly
things of college life, he was not by any of us looked
upon as a “stick.” He commanded our respect.
The faculty was small and the equipment of the
college meager. The attendance was nearly three
hundred. As to attainments, we were a mixed multitude.
To instruct all of these there were—for both
regular and required work—only six men, including
one for the preparatory department. What could
these few do to meet the needs of this miscellaneous
crowd? They did their best, and it was possible for
any of us, especially for the brighter student, to get a
great deal of valuable education even under these
conditions. Mateer in later years acknowledges his
indebtedness to all of the faculty, but particularly to
Dr. A. B. Brown, who was our president up to the
latter part of our senior year; to Dr. Alden, who
succeeded him; and to Professor Fraser, who held the
chair of mathematics. Dr. Brown was much admired
by the students for his rhetorical ability in the pulpit
and out of it. Dr. Alden was quite in contrast to
his predecessor as to many things. He had long been
a teacher, and was clear and concise in his intellectual
efforts. Mateer said, late in life, that from his drill
in moral science he “got more good than from any
other one branch in the course.” Professor Fraser
was a brilliant, all-round scholar of the best type then
prevalent, and had the enthusiastic admiration even
of those students who were little able to appreciate
his teaching. In the physical sciences the course
was necessarily still limited and somewhat elementary.
His classmates remember the evident mastery which
Mateer had of all that was attempted by instruction
or by experimentation in that department. It was
not possible to get much of what is called “culture”
out of the curriculum, and that through no fault of
the faculty; yet for the stimulation of the intellectual
powers and the unfolding of character there was an
opportunity such as may be seriously lacking in the
conditions of college instruction in recent years.
These were the palmy days of Jefferson College.
She drew to herself students not only from Pennsylvania
and the contiguous states, but also from the
more distant regions of the west and the south. We
were dumped down there, a heterogeneous lot of
young fellows, and outside of the classroom we were
left for the most part to care for ourselves. We
had no luxuries and we were short of comforts. We
got enough to eat, of a very plain sort, and we got it
cheap. We were wholly unacquainted with athletics
and other intercollegiate goings and comings which
now loom up so conspicuously in college life; but we
had, with rare exceptions, come from the country
and the small towns, intent on obtaining an education
which would help us to make the most of ourselves
in after years. As to this, Mateer was a thoroughly
representative student. He could not then foresee
his future career, but he was sure that in it he dared
not hope for success unless he made thoroughly good
use of his present, passing opportunities. He was
evidently a man who was there for a purpose.
The class of 1857 has always been proud of itself,
and not without reason. Fifty-eight of us received
our diplomas on commencement. Among them were
such leaders in the church as George P. Hays, David
C. Marquis and Samuel J. Niccolls, all of whom have
been Moderators of the General Assembly of the
Presbyterian Church. In the law, S. C. T. Dodd,
for many years the principal solicitor of the Standard
Oil Company, stands out most conspicuously. Three
of our number have served for longer or shorter periods
as college presidents. Of Doctors of Divinity we have
a long list, and also a goodly number of Doctors of
Law; and others, though they have received less
recognition for their work, have in our judgment escaped
only because the world does not always know
the worth of quiet lives. To spend years in the associations
of such a class in college is itself an efficient
means of education. It is a high tribute to the ability
and the diligence of Mateer that, although he was with
us only two years, he divided the first honor. The
sharer with him in this distinction was the youngest
member of the class, but a man who, in addition to
unusual capacity, also had enjoyed the best preparation
for college then available. On the part of
Mateer, it was not what is known as genius that
won the honor; it was a combination of solid intellectual
capacity, with hard, constant work. The faculty
assigned him the valedictory, the highest distinction
at graduation, but on his own solicitation, this
was given to the other first honor man.
In a letter sent by him from Wei Hsien, China,
September 4, 1907, in answer to a message addressed
to him by the little remnant of his classmates who
assembled at Canonsburg a couple of months earlier,
to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of their graduation,
he said:
It was with very peculiar feelings of pleasure
mingled with sadness that I read what was done by
you at your meeting. The distance that separated
me from you all adds a peculiar emphasis to my
feelings, suggestive of loneliness. I have never been
homesick in China. I would not be elsewhere than
where I am, nor doing any other work than what I am
doing. Yet when I read over the account of that
meeting in Canonsburg my feelings were such as I
have rarely had before. Separated by half the circumference
of the globe for full forty-four years, yet
in the retrospect the friendship formed in these years
of fellowship in study seems to grow fresher and
stronger as our numbers grow less. A busy life gives
little time for retrospection, yet I often think of college
days and college friends. Very few things in my
early life have preserved their impression so well.
I can still repeat the roll of our class, and I remember
well how we sat in that old recitation room of Professor
Jones [physics and chemistry]. I am in the
second half of my seventy-second year, strong and
well. China has agreed with me. I have spent my
life itinerating, teaching and translating, with chief
strength on teaching. But with us all who are left,
the meridian of life is past, and the evening draws
on. Yet a few of us have still some work to do. Let
us strive to do it well, and add what we can to the
aggregate achievement of the class’s life work—a
record of which I trust none of us may be ashamed.
In the unanticipated privilege of writing this book
I am trying to fulfill that wish of our revered classmate.
III FINDING HIS LIFE WORK
“From my youth I had the missionary work before me as a
dim vision. A half-formed resolution was all the while in my
mind, though I spoke of it to no one. But for this it is questionable
whether I would have given up teaching to go to the
Seminary. After long consideration and many prayers I
offered myself to the Board, and was accepted.”—AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
SKETCH for college class anniversary, 1897.
In the four sentences at the head of this chapter we
have a condensed outline of the process by which
Calvin Mateer came to be a foreign missionary.
In his case it did not, as in the antecedent experience
of most other clergymen who have given themselves
to this work, start with an attraction first toward the
ministry, and then toward the missionary service;
but just the reverse. In order to understand this
we need to go back again to “the old home,” and
especially to his mother. We are fortunate here in
having the veil of the past lifted by Mrs. Kirkwood,
as one outside of the family could not do, or, even if
he could, would hesitate to do.
Long before her marriage, when indeed but a
young girl, Mary Nelson Diven [Calvin’s mother]
heard an appeal for the Sandwich Islands made by
the elder Dr. Forbes, one of the early missionaries of
the American Board, to those islands. He asked for
a box of supplies. There was not much missionary
interest in the little church of Dillsburg, York County,
Pennsylvania, of which she was a member; for the
Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions had not been
organized, and the American Board had not attained
its majority. Her pastor sympathized with the newly
awakened zeal and interest of his young parishioner,
when she proposed to canvass the congregation in
response to Dr. Forbes’s appeal. The box was secured
and sent. This was the seed that germinated in her
heart so early and bore fruit through the whole of her
long life.
When in her nineteenth year she was married to
John Mateer, hers was a marriage in the Lord;
and together she and her husband consecrated their
children in their infancy to his service. This consecration
was not a form; they were laid upon the
altar and never taken back. Through all the self-denying
struggles to secure their education, one aim
was steadily kept in view, that of fitting them either
to carry the gospel to some heathen land, or to do
the Lord’s work in their own land.
In addition to the foreign missionary periodicals,
a number of biographies of foreign missionaries were
secured and were read by all the family. Not only
did this mother try to awaken in her children an
interest in missions through missionary literature,
but she devised means to strengthen and make
permanent this interest, to furnish channels through
which these feelings and impulses might flow toward
practical results. One of these was a missionary
mite box which she fashioned with her own hands,
away back in the early forties, before the mite boxes
had been scattered broadcast in the land. Quaint
indeed it was, this plain little wooden box, covered
with small-figured wall paper. Placed upon the
parlor mantel, it soon became the shrine of the
children’s devotion. No labor or self-denial on their
part was considered too great to secure pennies for
“the missionary box.” Few pennies were spent for
self-indulgence after that box was put in place, and
overflowing was the delight when some unwonted
good fortune made it possible to drop in silver coins—“six-and-a-fourth
bits,” or “eleven-penny bits.” Most
of the offerings were secured by such self-denials as
foregoing coffee, sugar, or butter. There was not
at that time much opportunity for country children
to earn even pennies. The “red-letter” day of all
the year was when the box was opened and the
pennies were counted.
This earnest-hearted mother had counted the cost
of what she was doing in thus educating her children
into the missionary spirit. When her first-born
turned his face toward the heathen world, there was
no drawing back—freely she gave him to the work.
As one after another of her children offered themselves
to the Foreign Board, she rejoiced in the
honor God had put upon her, never shrinking from
the heart strain the separation from her children
must bring. She only made them more special objects
of prayer, thus transmuting her personal care-taking
to faith. She lived to see four of her children in China.
This explains how it came about that this elder
son, from youth, had before him the missionary work
as “a dim vision,” and that “a half-formed resolution”
to take it up was all the while in his mind.
When he graduated from college, he had made no
decision as to his life work. During the years preceding
he at no time put aside the claims of missions,
and consequently of the ministry, upon him, and in
various ways he showed his interest in that line of
Christian service. As he saw the situation the choice
seemed mainly to lie between this on the one hand,
and teaching on the other. Before he graduated he
had the offer of a place in the corps of instructors
for the Lawrenceville (New Jersey) school, since
grown into such magnitude and esteem as a boys’
preparatory institution; but the conditions were
not such that he felt justified in accepting. Unfortunately,
there is a blank in his Journal for the
period between March 4, 1857, some six months
before he received his diploma at Jefferson, and
October 24, 1859, when he had already been a good
while in the theological seminary; and to supply
it scarcely any of his letters are available. In the
autobiographical sketch already noticed he says:
From college I went to take charge of the academy
at Beaver, Pennsylvania. I found it run down
almost to nothing, so that the first term (half year)
it hardly paid me my board. I was on my mettle,
however, and determined not to fail. I taught and
lectured and advertised, making friends as fast as
I could. I found the school with about twenty
boys, all day scholars; I left it at the end of the third
term with ninety, of whom thirty were boarders.
I could easily have gone on and made money, but
I felt that I was called to preach the gospel, and so,
I sold out my school and went to Allegheny [Western
Theological Seminary], entering when the first year
was half over.
One of his pupils at Beaver was J. R. Miller, D.D.,
a distinguished minister of the gospel in Philadelphia;
and very widely known especially as the author of
solid but popular religious books. Writing of his
experience at the Beaver Academy, he says:
When I first entered, the principal was Mr.
Mateer. The first night I was there, my room was
not ready, and I slept with him in his room. I can
never forget the words of encouragement and cheer
he spoke that night, to a homesick boy, away for
almost the first time from his father and mother....
My contact with him came just at the time
when my whole life was in such plastic form that
influence of whatever character became permanent.
He was an excellent teacher. His personal influence
over me was very great. I suppose that when the
records are all known, it will be seen that no other
man did so much for the shaping of my life as he did.
While at Beaver he at last decided that he was
called of God to study for the ministry, but called
not by any extraordinary external sign or inward experience.
It was a sense of duty that determined
him, and although he obeyed willingly, yet it was not
without a struggle. He had a consciousness of ability
to succeed as a teacher or in other vocations; and he
was by no means without ambition to make his mark
in the world. Because he was convinced by long
and careful and prayerful consideration that he ought
to become a minister he put aside all the other pursuits
that might have opened to him. Not long
after he entered the seminary he wrote to his mother:
“You truly characterize the work for which I am
now preparing as a great and glorious one. I have
long looked forward to it, though scarcely daring
to think it my duty to engage in it. After much
pondering in my own mind, and prayer for direction
I have thought it my duty to preach.”
On account of teaching, as already related, he did
not enter the theological seminary until more than
a year after I did, so that I was not his classmate
there. He came some months late in the school
year, and had at first much back work to make up;
but he soon showed that he ranked among the very
best students. His classmate, Rev. John H. Sherrard,
of Pittsburg, writes:
One thing I do well remember about Mateer: his
mental superiority impressed everyone, as also his
deep spirituality. In some respects, indeed most,
he stood head and shoulders above his fellows around
him.
Another classmate, Rev. Dr. William Gaston, of
Cleveland, says:
We regarded him as one of our most level-headed
men; our peer in all points; not good merely in one
point, but most thorough in all branches of study.
He was cheerful and yet not flippant, and with a
tinge of the most serious. He was optimistic, dwelling
much on God’s great love.... He was not
only a year in advance of most of us in graduating
from college, but I think that we, as students, felt
that though we were classmates in the seminary,
he was in advance of us in other things. Life seemed
more serious to him. I doubt if any one of us felt
the responsibility of life as much as he did. I doubt
if anyone worked as hard as he.
The Western Theological Seminary, during the
period of Mateer’s attendance, was at the high-water
mark of prosperity. The general catalogue shows
an enrollment of sixty-one men in his class; the total
in all classes hovered about one hundred and fifty.
In the faculty there were only four members, and,
estimated by the specializations common in our
theological schools to-day, they could not adequately
do all their work; and this was the more true of them,
because all save one of them eked out his scanty
salary by taking charge of a city church. But they
did better than might now be thought possible;
and especially was this practicable because of the
limited curriculum then prescribed, and followed by
all students. Dr. David Elliott was still at work,
though beyond the age when he was at his best.
Samuel J. Wilson was just starting in his brilliant
though brief career, and commanded a peculiar
attachment from his pupils. Dr. Jacobus was
widely known and appreciated for his popular commentaries.
However, the member of the faculty
who left the deepest impress on Mateer was Dr.
William S. Plumer. Nor in this was his case exceptional.
We all knew that Dr. Plumer was not in the
very first rank of theologians. We often missed in
his lectures the marks of very broad and deep scholarship.
But as a teacher he nevertheless made upon
our minds an impression that was so great and lasting
that in all our subsequent lives we have continued
to rejoice in having been under his training. Best
of all was his general influence on the students. We
doubt whether in the theological seminaries of the
Presbyterian Church of the United States it has
ever been equaled, except by Archibald Alexander
of Princeton. The dominant element of that influence
was a magnificent personality saturated with
the warmest and most tender piety, having its source
in love for the living, personal Saviour. For Dr.
Plumer, Mateer had then a very high degree of
reverent affection, and he never lost it.
Spiritually, the condition of the seminary while
Mateer was there was away above the ordinary.
In the winter of 1857-58 a great revival had swept
over the United States, and across the Atlantic.
In no place was it more in evidence than in the theological
schools; it quickened immensely the spiritual
life of the majority of the students. One of its
fruits there was the awakening of a far more intense
interest in foreign missions. I can still recall the
satisfaction which some of us who in the seminary
were turning our faces toward the unevangelized
nations had in the information that this strong man
who stood in the very first rank as to character and
scholarship had decided to offer himself to the Board
of Foreign Missions for such service as they might
select for him. It was a fitting consummation of
his college and seminary life.
Yet it was only slowly, even in the seminary, and
after much searching of his own heart and much
wrestling in prayer, that he came to this decision.
Outside of himself there was a good deal that tended
to impel him toward it. The faculty, and especially
Dr. Plumer, did all they could wisely to press on the
students the call of the unevangelized nations for
the gospel. Representatives of this cause—missionaries
and secretaries—visited the seminary, where
there were, at that time, more than an ordinary
number of young men who had caught the missionary
spirit. In college, Mateer, without seeking to isolate
himself from others, had come into real intimacy
with scarcely any of his fellow-students. He says
in the autobiographical sketch, “I minded my own
business, making comparatively few friends outside
of my own class, largely because I was too bashful
to push my way.” In the seminary he, while still
rather reserved, came nearer to some of his fellow-theologues;
and especially to one, Dwight B. Hervey,
who shared with him the struggle over duty as to a
field of service. They seem to have been much in
conference on that subject.
On the 21st of January, 1860, he presented himself
before the Presbytery of Ohio, to which the churches
of Pittsburg belonged, passed examination in his
college studies, and was received under the care of
that body; but he had not then made up his mind to
be a missionary. On the 12th of April of the same
year he went before the Presbytery of Butler, at
Butler, Pennsylvania (having at his own request
been transferred to the care of that organization,
because his parents’ home was now within its bounds),
and was licensed to preach. Yet still he had not
decided to be a missionary. He was powerfully
drawn toward that work, and vacillation at no time
in his life was a characteristic; there simply was as
yet no need that he should finally make up his mind,
and he wished to avoid any premature committal
of himself, which later he might regret, or which
he might feel bound to recall.
The summer of 1860 he spent in preaching here and
there about Pittsburg, several months being given to
the Plains and Fairmount churches; followed by a
visit home, and another in Illinois.
When the seminary opened in the autumn, he was
back in his place. One of the duties which fell to him
was to preach a missionary sermon before the Society
of Inquiry. He did this so well that the students by
vote expressed a desire that the sermon should be
published. In his Journal he notes that the preparation
of this discourse “strengthened his determination
to give himself to this work.” Before the Christmas
recess Dr. J. Leighton Wilson, one of the secretaries
of the Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions,
visited the seminary, and in conference did much to
stimulate the missionary spirit. He found in Mateer
an eager and responsive listener. On the 12th of
December Mateer wrote a long letter to his mother,
in which he expresses feeling, because without warrant
some one had told her that he had offered himself to
the Foreign Board. He says, “I am not going to
take such an important step without informing you
of it directly and explicitly.” Then he proceeds to
tell her just what was his attitude at that time:
I have thought of the missionary work this long
time, but not very seriously until within the last
couple of years. Ever since I came to the seminary
I have had a conviction to some degree that I ought
to go as a missionary. That conviction has been
constantly growing and deepening, and more especially
of late. I have about concluded that so far as I am
myself concerned it is my duty to be a missionary. I
have thought a great deal on this subject and I think
that I have not come to such a conclusion hastily.
It has cost me very considerable effort to give up the
prospects which I might have had at home. The
matter in almost every view you can take of it involves
trial and self-denial. I need great grace,—for
this I pray. But even if I have prospects of usefulness
at home, surely nothing can be lost in this respect by
doing what I am convinced is my duty. Indeed, one
of the encouraging features, in fact the great encouragement,
is a prospect of more extended usefulness
than at home. This may seem not to be so at the
first view, but a more careful consideration of all the
aspects of the case will, I think, bring a different
conclusion.
The letter is very full, and lays bare his whole mind
and heart as he would be willing to do only to his
mother. It is a revelation of this strong, self-reliant,
mature but filial-spirited and tenderly thoughtful
young Christian man and prospective minister, to a
mother whom he recognized as deserving an affectionate
consideration such as he owed to no other created being.
On the 7th of January, 1861, he received a letter
from his mother, in which she gave her consent that
he should be a foreign missionary, naming only one
or two conditions which involved no insuperable
difficulty. In a student prayer meeting about three
weeks later he took occasion in some remarks to tell
them that he had decided to offer himself for this work.
Still, it was not until the 5th of April, and when within
two weeks of graduation, that he, in a full and formal
letter, such as is expected and is appropriate, offered
himself to the Board. In his Journal of that date,
after recording the character of his letter, he says:
“This is a solemn and important step which I have
now taken. During this week, while writing this
letter, I have, I trust, looked again at the whole
matter, and asked help and guidance from God.
I fully believe it is my duty to go. My greatest
fear has been that I was not as willing to go as I
should be, but I cast myself on Christ and go forward.”
On the 13th of April he received word from the Board
that he had been accepted, the time of his going out
and his field of labor being yet undetermined.
So the problem of his life work was at length solved,
as surely as it could be by human agency. It had
been his mother’s wish that he should wait a year
before going to his field, and to this he had no serious
objection; but as matters turned out, more than two
years elapsed before he was able to leave this country.
This long delay was caused by the outbreak of the
Civil War, and the financial stringency which made
it impossible for the Foreign Board to assume any
additional obligations. Much of the time the outlook
was so dark that he almost abandoned hope of entering
on his chosen work, though the thought of this
filled his heart with grief. He was intensely loyal to
the cause of the Union, and if he had not been a
licentiate for the ministry he almost certainly would
have enlisted in the army. He records his determination
to go if drafted. Once, indeed, during this
period of waiting he was a sort of candidate for a
chaplaincy to a regiment, which fortunately he did
not secure. For several months he preached here
and there in the churches of the general region about
Pittsburg, and also made a visit to towns in central
Ohio, one of these being Delaware, the seat of the
Ohio Wesleyan University. Not long afterward he
received an urgent request from the Old School
Presbyterian Church in that town to come and supply
them. About the same time the churches of Fairmount
and Plains in Pennsylvania gave him a formal
call to become their pastor, but this he declined.
He accepted the invitation to Delaware, I suppose
partly because it left him free still to go as a missionary
whenever the way might open. At Delaware he
remained eighteen months, until at last, in the good
providence of God, he was ordered “to the front” out
in China.
The story of his service of the church in that place
need not be told here except in brief. It must, however,
be clearly stated that it was in the highest degree
creditable to him. In fact, the conditions were such
that one may see in it a providential training in the
courage and patience and faithfulness which in later
years he needed to exercise on the mission field. The
church was weak, and was overshadowed somewhat
even among the Presbyterian element by a larger and
less handicapped New School organization; and was
sorely distressed by internal troubles. For a while
after Mateer came, it was a question whether it could
be resuscitated from its apparently dying stale. At
the end of his period of service it was once more alive,
comparatively united, and anxious to have him remain
as pastor.
On November 12, 1862, while in charge of the church
at Delaware, he was ordained to the full work of the
ministry, as an evangelist, by the Presbytery of
Marion, in session at Delaware.
On December 27, 1862, he was married in Delaware,
at the home of her uncle, to Miss Julia A. Brown, of
Mt. Gilead, Ohio. Two years before they were
already sufficiently well acquainted to interchange
friendly letters; later their friendship ripened into
mutual love; and now, after an eight months’ engagement,
they were united for life. Mateer says
in his Journal, “The wedding was very small and
quiet; though it was not wanting in merriment,” and
naïvely adds, “Found marrying not half so hard as
proposing.” Julia, as he ever afterward calls her,
was a superbly good wife for him. In her own home,
in the schoolroom, in the oversight of the Chinese
boys and girls who were their pupils, in the preparation
of her “Music Book,” in her labors for the evangelization
of the women, in her journeyings,—hindered as
she was most of the time by broken health,—she
effectively toiled on, until at last, after thirty-five
years of missionary service, her husband laid away all
of her that was mortal in the little cemetery east of
the city of Tengchow, by the side of her sister, Maggie
(Mrs. Capp), who had died in the same service, and
of other missionary friends who had gone on before
her.
When they were married they were still left in great
uncertainty as to the time when the Board could send
them out, or, indeed, whether the Board could send
them out at all. They went on their bridal trip to
his parents’ home in western Pennsylvania, reaching
there on Wednesday, December 31. Just a week afterward
he received a letter from the Board announcing
their readiness to send them to China. The record of
his Journal deserves to be given here in full.
Scarcely anything in my life ever came so unexpectedly.
A peal of thunder in the clear winter sky
would not have surprised us more. The letter was
handed me in the morning when I came downstairs
at grandfather’s. After reading it, I took it upstairs
and read it to “my Jewel.” In less than three minutes
I think our minds were made up. Her first exclamation
after hearing the letter I shall not forget: “Oh,
I am glad!” That was the right ring for a missionary:
no long-drawn, sorrowful sigh, but the straight-out,
noble, self-sacrificing, “Oh, I am glad!” I shall remember
that time, that look, that expression. If I
did not say, I felt, the same. I think I can truly say
I was and am glad. My lifelong aspiration is yet to
be realized. I shall yet spend my life and lay my
bones in a heathen land. I had fully made up my
mind to labor in this country, and most likely for
some time in Delaware; but how suddenly everything
is changed! The only regret I feel is that I am not
five years younger. What a great advantage it would
give me in acquiring the language! But so it is, and
Providence made it so. I had despaired of going,
and despairing I was greatly perplexed to understand
the leadings of Providence in directing my mind so
strongly to the work, and bringing me so near to the
point of going before. Now I understand the matter
better. Now I see that my strong persuasion that I
would yet go was right. God did not deceive me.
He only led me by a way that I knew not. Just when
the darkness seemed to be greatest, then the sun
shone suddenly out. How strange it all seems!
The way was all closed; no funds to send out men to
China; and I could not go. Suddenly two missionaries
die, and the health of another fails; and the
Board feels constrained to send out one man at least,
to supply their place; and so the door opens to me.
And I will enter it, for Providence has surely opened
it. As I have given myself to this work, and hold
myself in readiness to go, I will not retrace my steps
now. Having put my hand to the plow, I will not
look back. I do not wish to. It is true, however,
that preaching a year and a half has bound strong
cords around me to keep me here. I cannot go so
easily now as I might have done when I first left the
seminary. It will be a sore trial to tear myself
away from the folks at Delaware. They will try
hard, I know, to retain me; but I think my mind is
set, and I must go. I must go; I am glad to go;
I will go. The Lord will provide for Delaware. I
commit the work there to his hands. I trust and
believe that he will carry it on, and that it will yet
appear that my labor there has not been in vain.
Yesterday I was twenty-seven years old. I hope to
chronicle my next birthday in China. The Lord
has spared me twenty-seven years in my native land.
Will he give me as many in China! Grant it, O
Lord, and strengthen me mightily to spend them all
for thee!
This strong, persistent, conscientious, self-controlled,
consecrated man had found his life work at
last.
IV GONE TO THE FRONT
“If there had been no other way to get back to America,
than through such another experience, it is doubtful whether
I should ever have seen my native land again.”—AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
SKETCH, 1897.
The choice of the country to which he should
go as a missionary had been with him a
subject of earnest consideration and prayer.
He says in his Journal, under date of September 12,
1862:
The Board wished me to go to Canton, China, at
first. This was altogether against my inclinations
and previous plans; but the Board would not send
me anywhere else, until in the last letter they offered
to send me to Japan; I have long had thoughts of
northern India or of Africa; and especially have I
wished to go to some new mission where the ground
is unoccupied, and where I would not be entrammeled
by rules and rigid instructions. The languages of
eastern Asia are also exceedingly difficult and the
missionary work is peculiarly discouraging among that
people.
Two days later, however, he sent the Board a
letter saying that he would go to Japan. When his
field finally was specifically designated, it was north
China. He was to be stationed at Tengchow, a port
that had been opened to foreign commerce in the
province of Shantung.
The Mateers remained at Delaware until late in
April. Until that time he continued in charge of his
church. In a touching farewell service they took
leave of their people, and traveled by slow stages
toward New York.
Going to live in China was then so much more serious
a matter than it is now that we can scarcely
appreciate the leave-takings that fell to the lot of
these two young missionaries. The hardest trial of
all was to say good-by to mother and to father, and
to brothers and sisters, some of whom were yet small
children, and for whom he felt that he might do so
much if not separated from them by half the distance
round the world.
At length on July 3, 1863, they embarked at New
York on the ship that was to carry them far to the
south of the Cape of Good Hope, then eastward
almost in sight of the northern shores of Australia,
and finally, by the long outside route, up north again
to Shanghai. They were one hundred and sixty-five
days, or only about two weeks short of half a year,
in making the voyage. During that long period they
never touched land. It needs to be borne in mind that
in 1863 the Suez Canal had only been begun; that
the railroads across our continent had not been built;
and that no lines of passenger steamers were running
from our western coast over to Asia. No blame,
therefore, is chargeable to the Board of Missions for
sending out their appointees on a sailing vessel. The
ship selected was a merchantman, though not a
clipper built for quick transit, was of moderate size,
in sound condition, and capable of traveling at fairly
good speed. Accompanying the Mateers were Hunter
Corbett and his wife, who also had been appointed
by the Board, for Tengchow. There were six other
passengers, none of whom were missionaries, and,
besides the officers, there was a crew of sixteen men.
At best the voyage could not be otherwise than
tedious and trying. The accommodations for passengers
were necessarily scant, the staterooms, being
mere closets with poor ventilation, and this cut off
in rough weather. The only place available for
exercise was the poop deck, about thirty feet long;
thus walking involved so much turning as greatly to
lessen the pleasure, and many forms of amusement common
on larger vessels were entirely shut out. Food
on such a long voyage had to be limited in variety,
and must become more or less stale. Of course, it
was hot in the tropics, and it was cold away south of
the equator, and again up north in November and
December. Seasickness is a malady from which
exemption could not be expected. When a company
of passengers and officers with so little in common as
to character and aims were cooped together, for so
long a time, in narrow quarters, where they must
constantly come into close contact, a serious lack of
congeniality and some friction might be expected to
develop among them.
The ship also, on that voyage, encountered distinctive
annoyances and dangers. For weeks after they
sailed they were in constant dread of Confederate
privateers. Once they were so sure that they were
about to be captured by a ship which they mistook for
one of these destroyers of American commerce that
they hastily prepared as well as they could for such
a catastrophe. When they sailed from New York,
the battle of Gettysburg was in progress and still
undecided; and it was not until October 15 when they
were overtaken by a vessel which had sailed eleven
days after them from New York, that their anxiety as
to the result was relieved, and their hearts were thrilled
with exultation, by the news that Meade was victorious,
and also that Vicksburg had fallen. Out among
the islands to the northeast of Australia the ship was
caught in a current, and was forced so rapidly and
nearly on the wild, rocky shores of an uncivilized
island that the captain himself despaired of escaping
wreck. Providentially a breeze from the land sprang
up and carried them out of danger. They were
overtaken by no severe storms. Several times their
patience was sorely tested by protracted calms;
in the Pacific it once took them seventeen days to
make three hundred and forty miles.
All of these things lay beyond the control of the
officers and crew, and the missionaries accepted them
as trials to which they ought quietly and patiently to
submit. But imagine as added to this a half year’s
subjection to the arbitrary and autocratic rule of a
captain who was ignorant except as to seamanship;
who was coarse and constantly profane in speech; who
was tyrannical and brutal so far as he dared to be,
and yet when boldly faced by those who were able to
bring him to account for his conduct was a contemptible
coward; who skimped the people on board of
food adequate in quantity or decently fit in quality,
partly because of stingy greed, and partly from a
desire thus to gratify his malignant disposition; who
hated missionaries and seemed to have a special
pleasure in making their lives on his ship as uncomfortable
as possible; who barely tolerated such
religious observances as the asking of a blessing at
meals, or a service for social worship on the Sabbath
in the cabin, and who forbade all attempts to do any
religious work, even by conversation, among the crew;
who was capable of descending to various petty meannesses
in order to gratify his base inclinations; and
who somehow yet managed to secure from officers
under him a measure of sympathy and coöperation in
his conduct. When we have as fully as possible
grasped these things, we can understand why Dr.
Mateer, half a lifetime afterward, wrote to his college
classmates that if in order to reach America it had
been necessary to repeat the experience of that outward
voyage, it is doubtful if ever again he had seen
his native land.
But at last this voyage was nearing its end. They
might have reached port some days earlier, had it not
been that all the crew except three or four had—through
lack of proper food and other bad treatment—been
attacked by scurvy, a disease already then having
been almost shut out even from sailing vessels on long
trips. On December 16 they had the happiness
of going ashore at Shanghai, where they soon found
a welcome in the homes of missionaries and of other
friends. Corbett was not well, and Mateer always
believed that the health of both Julia and Corbett
was permanently injured by the treatment received
on that outward voyage.
On the voyage the missionaries warned the captain
that they would surely hold him to account for his
conduct, when they reached Shanghai. They kept
their word. After consultation with the missionaries
on the local field, with a lawyer, and with the American
consul, they determined to proceed with formal
charges against him. Learning of this, he lost no
time in coming to them, and, with fear and trembling,
he begged that they would have mercy on him. A
second interview was appointed, but Corbett was too
unwell to see him, and Mateer had to meet him alone.
In his Journal he says:
I took the paper which had been read to the consul,
and read it to him giving copious comments and
illustrations, at the same time asking him to explain
or correct if he could. I never in my life gave any
man such a lecturing. I just kept myself busy for an
hour and a half telling him how mean and contemptible
a scoundrel he was. I then offered him as
a settlement of the matter a paper which I proposed
to publish, stating in it that he had apologized and
that we had agreed to suspend prosecution. From
this he pled off in the most pitiful manner, saying
that he would be ruined by it.
The third day he came again and made such an appeal
for mercy that Mateer’s sympathy, and also his
desire to avoid detention at Shanghai, led him to agree
to accept a private apology, and to refer the matter to
the interested parties at New York. Years afterward
Mateer, on going aboard a coasting steamer bound for
Shanghai, discovered that this man was the captain.
He at once cancelled his passage, and went ashore
until he could secure a place on another vessel.
Tengchow is distant more than five hundred miles
from Shanghai. The only way to reach it was by a
second voyage northward along the coast to Chefoo,
and thence overland. On January 3, 1864, the
Mateers and the Corbetts went aboard the little
coasting steamer “Swatow,” bound for Chefoo.
They had a head wind, and the ship was almost
empty of cargo. They suffered again from seasickness,
and from cold on account of lack of bed-clothing.
On the evening of the third day out, at about half-past
eight, they were sitting around the stove expecting
soon to be at Chefoo, when suddenly the vessel
struck the bottom and the bell rang to reverse the
engine. Bump followed bump, until it seemed as if
she must go to pieces. The captain, though not
unfamiliar with the route, had allowed himself to be
deceived by the masts of a sunken ship, and supposing
this to be a vessel at anchor in the harbor of Chefoo,
had gone in, and his steamer was now hard and fast
on the bottom, about fifteen miles down the coast
from his destination. We will allow Mateer in his
Journal to tell his own story.
All was a scene of indescribable confusion. The
captain lost all self-possession and all authority over
his men. Most of his crew and servants were Chinese
or Malays, and on such an occasion the worst features
of their character shine out. They refused to do
anything and went to packing up their few goods and
at the same time seizing everything they could get
hold of. They went everywhere and into everything,
pilfering and destroying. Meanwhile the waves were
striking the vessel at a fearful rate, and threatening
to break it into pieces. We knew not what to do,
or what we could do. The mates and two passengers
(a merchant and an English naval officer) lowered a
boat and, pushing off, succeeded in landing and in
making a rope fast from the ship to the shore. They
found that we were much nearer the land than we had
supposed. We were now in a great quandary what
to do, whether to remain on the ship, or get in the
boat and go ashore. We mostly inclined to remain,
but the captain urged us to go ashore. While the
wind remained moderate we could stay on the ship
with safety; but if the wind should increase before
morning we might be in danger of our lives. The
captain said that he thought that it was not more than
eight or nine miles to Chefoo, and he was anxious that
word should be sent there. We at length yielded to
his advice, and about eleven o’clock got into a boat
and managed to get ashore through the surf. It was
a bitter cold night, and we loaded ourselves with
blankets which we supposed would come into requisition
to keep us warm. Our party consisted of nine
passengers (we four, Rev. Williamson and wife and
child, and Rev. McClatchie—all missionaries—and
Mr. Wilson, a merchant, and Mr. Riddle, a naval
officer) and six Chinamen. Our hope was to set out in
the direction of Chefoo, get a lodging for the ladies and
Mr. Corbett by the way, while the rest of us pushed on
to Chefoo to obtain assistance. We started off according
to this plan, but soon found our way stopped by
fields of ice, and we were compelled to turn from our
course and seek the hills which towered up in the distance.
The walking was very fatiguing; indeed, the
ground was covered several inches with snow, and at
many places there were large cakes and fields of ice.
After long and weary tramping and turning and disputing
about the best way, we at length reached the
hills. I mounted to the top of the first hill and tried
to get the party to go up over the hill and directly
inland until we should find a house or village. Other
counsels prevailed, however, and we wandered along
the foot of the hill the best part of a mile. At length
I got in the lead, and persuaded them that no houses
would be found unless we went inland from the barren
beach. We then crossed the ridge at a low place and
retraced our steps on the other side of it, and finally,
after much urging, persuaded those who wanted to
sit down until morning to follow on inland on the
track of some of our Chinamen. We soon came to a
village, which was indeed a welcome sight. We were
cold, and our feet were wet, and we were very tired,
especially the ladies. Our troubles were not over yet,
however, for we could not induce any of the Chinese
to let us in. It was now four o’clock, and we were
suffering from the effects of five hours’ wandering in
the snow and cold. Yet they persistently closed their
doors and kept us out. Mr. Williamson and Mr.
McClatchie could talk to them some, yet they refused
to receive us.
At last, after shivering in the cold about an hour,
we succeeded in getting into a sort of shanty, which,
however, afforded but very poor comfort. There
was a heated kang in it, and the ladies managed to
warm their feet on this. When it began to get light
Mr. Riddle and Mr. Wilson started to Chefoo, thinking
the city was only half a mile distant. This was what
Mrs. Williamson understood the natives to say. Some
time after Mr. McClatchie started, supposing it was
three miles. We made breakfast on boiled rice and
sweet potatoes which the people brought us.
I started back to see what had become of the ship,
and to look after our things. I found the vessel all
sound and everything safe. I succeeded in getting
several trunks of mine and Mr. Williamson’s landed
on the beach, and got some of them started up to the
village, which was at least two miles from the ship.
Mr. Williamson then went down and succeeded in
getting a variety of other things brought off and carried
up to the village. It was a beautiful calm day, but
we feared that a gale might spring up, as gales were
frequent in this region at that time of year. In such
a case the vessel must quickly be broken in pieces, and
everything destroyed.
We now began to look around for the night, and
it was not a very comfortable prospect. Some English
people came from Yentai (just across the bay
from Chefoo) to survey the wreck of a vessel that had
been cast away some time before at the same place,
and they very kindly sent us some supper—their
own, in fact—and also brought us a supply of furs
and blankets. We had one large kang heated, and
on this five stowed themselves, covering themselves
with the blankets, while I made a bed and slept on
the ground. The rest of the little room was filled
with trunks and Chinese rubbish of various kinds.
We slept very comfortably, however, and as we were
very tired and had not slept a wink the night before,
our sleep was sweet and refreshing to us. We had
great cause to be thankful for even such accommodations
in the circumstances.
We made our breakfast on two dozen boiled eggs
and some bread which the Englishmen had left us.
I started immediately to the ship, intending, as the
day was fine, to try and get as much as possible of
the goods belonging to us off the ship, and to store
them there until they could be taken to Yentai. As
I came over the top of the hill and looked out on the
sea, I saw a steamer coming which I knew was the
English gunboat from Chefoo. My heart bounded
with joy at the sight. At last we were to get help,
and to reach Yentai without going overland. All our
goods also would no doubt be saved.
By land it was twenty-eight miles to Chefoo, instead
of the short distance supposed by the men who started
to walk, but they had persisted; and at their instigation
the gunboat had come to relieve the party left
behind. After some failures the gunboat succeeded
in pulling the “Swatow” into water where she again
floated safely. The party out at the village returned,
and the goods were brought back and put on board
the gunboat, Mateer remaining over night with the
steamer and coming up the next day to Chefoo.
He notices in his Journal that although Corbett was
in a very weak state, he seemed to suffer little or no
bad effects from the first terrible night on shore;
nor were the ladies apparently any the worse for their
exposure. He mentions also that while some of the
natives at the village were disposed to annoy them as
much as possible, others of them were very kind, and
he adds, “Never before did I feel my helpless condition
so much as among those natives, with whom I
could not speak a single word.”
Of course, they received a hearty welcome from the
missionaries at Chefoo. On the following Wednesday
they started for Tengchow, fifty-five miles away,
traveling by shentza—a mode of travel peculiar to
China, and developed largely because of the almost
complete absence of anything like good wagon roads.
It is simply a sort of covered litter, sustained between
two mules, one in advance of the other; in it one
reclines, and is jolted up and down by the motion of
the animals, each going after his own fashion over
rough paths which lead without plan across the plains
and hills. Mateer’s Journal says of that trip:
We rode about fifteen miles and stopped for the
night at a Chinese inn. We had brought our eatables
along, and, having got some tea, we made a very good
supper, and we went to bed all together on a Chinese
kang heated up to keep us warm. Next morning it
was bitter cold, and we did not get started until about
ten o’clock. I made them turn my shentza and
Julia’s around [that is, with the open front away from
the wind] or I do not know what we should have done.
About five o’clock our cavalcade turned into an inn,
and we soon found to our chagrin and vexation that
we were doomed to spend another night in a Chinese
inn; which, by the way, is anything but a comfortable
place on a cold night. We made the best of it, however,
and the next morning we were off again for
Tengchow, where we arrived safely about two o’clock.
At last our journeying was over,—set down on the field
of our labor.
They had reached the front. This was early in
January, 1864.
V THE NEW HOME
“Our new house is now done, and we are comfortably fixed
in it. It suits us exactly, and my impression is that it will suit
anyone who may come after us.... My prayer is that
God will spare us to live in it many years, and bless us in doing
much work for his glory.”—LETTER TO SECRETARY LOWRIE,
December 24, 1867.
Tengchow is one of the cities officially
opened as a port for foreign commerce, under
the treaty of Tientsin, which went into actual
effect in 1860. Although a place of seventy thousand
or more inhabitants, and cleaner and more healthful
than most Chinese towns, it has not attracted
people from western nations, except a little band
of missionaries. The harbor does not afford good
anchorage; so it has not been favorable to foreign
commerce.
When the Mateers came to Tengchow, missionary
operations had already been begun both by the Southern
Baptists and the American Presbyterians, though
in a very small way. In fact, throughout the whole
of China,—according to the best statistics available,—there
were then on that immense field only something
more than a hundred ordained Protestant missionaries,
and as many female missionaries. There were
also a few physicians and printers. The number of
native preachers was about two hundred and fifty,
and of colporteurs about the same. Few of these colporteurs
and native preachers were full ministers of
the gospel. There were sixteen stations, and perhaps
a hundred out-stations. The Chinese converts aggregated
thirty-five hundred.
In all Shantung, with its many millions of people,
the only places at which any attempt had been made
to establish stations were Chefoo and Tengchow, both
on the seacoast. The Baptists reached the latter
of these cities in the autumn of 1860. They were
followed very soon afterward by Messrs. Danforth
and Gayley and their wives, of the Presbyterian
Board; and the next summer Mr. and Mrs. Nevius
came up from Ningpo and joined them.
The natives seemed to be less positively unfriendly
than those of many other parts of China are even
to this day; yet it was only with protracted and perplexing
difficulties that houses in which to live could
be obtained. Not long after this was accomplished,
Mrs. Danforth sickened and died, and was laid in
the first Christian grave at Tengchow. Then came
a “rebel,” or rather a robber invasion, that carried
desolation and death far and wide in that part of
Shantung, and up to the very walls of Tengchow,
and left the city and country in a deplorable condition
of poverty and wretchedness. Two of the Baptist
missionaries went out to parley with these marauders,
and were cut to pieces. Next ensued a period during
which rumors were rife among the people that
the missionaries, by putting medicine in the wells,
and by other means, practiced witchcraft; and this
kept away many who otherwise might have ventured
to hear the gospel, and came near to producing
serious danger. After this followed a severe epidemic
of cholera, filling the houses and the streets with
funerals and with mourning. For a while the missionaries
escaped, and did what they could for the Chinese
patients; but they were soon themselves attacked;
and then they had to give their time and strength
to ministering to their own sick, and to burying their
own dead. Mr. Gayley first, and then his child,
died, and a child of one of the Baptist missionaries.
Others were stricken but recovered. The epidemic
lasted longest among the Chinese, and this afforded
the missionaries opportunity to save many lives by
prompt application of remedies; and so tended
greatly to remove prejudice and to open the way
for the gospel. Ten persons were admitted to membership
in the church, the first fruits of the harvest
which has ever since been gathering. But a sad
depletion of the laborers soon afterward followed.
Mrs. Gayley was compelled to take her remaining
child, and go home; Mr. Danforth’s health became
such that he also had to leave; the health of Mrs.
Nevius, which had been poor for a long time, had
become worse and, the physician having ordered
her away, she and her husband went south. This
left Rev. Mr. Mills and his wife as the only representatives
of the Presbyterian Board, until the Mateers
and Corbetts arrived, about three years after the
beginning of the station by Danforth and Gayley.
When the Mateers and Corbetts came they were,
of necessity, lodged in the quarters already occupied
by the Mills family. These consisted of no less than
four small one-story stone buildings clustered near
together; one used for a kitchen, another for a dining
room, a third for a guest room, and the fourth for
a parlor and bedroom. Each stood apart from the
other, and without covered connection. The larger
of them had been a temple dedicated to Kwan Yin,
whom foreigners have called the Chinese god of
mercy. According to the universal superstition, the
air is full of superhuman spirits, in dread of whom
the people of China constantly live, and to avert the
displeasure of whom most of their religious services
are performed. Kwan Yin, however, is an exception
in character to the malignancy of these imaginary
deities. There is no end to the myths that are current
as to this god, and they all are stories of deliverance
from trouble and danger. To him the people always
turn with their vows and prayers and offerings, in
any time of special need. Partly because the women
are especially devoted to this cult, and partly because
mercy is regarded by the Chinese as a distinctively
female trait, the easy-going mythology of the country
has allowed Kwan Yin, in later times, to take the
form of a woman. When the missionaries came to
Tengchow, the priest in charge of this temple was
short of funds, and he was easily induced to rent
it to them. He left the images of Kwan Yin in the
house. Just what to do with them became a practical
question; from its solution a boy who lived with
the Mateers learned a valuable lesson. When asked
whether the idols could do anybody harm, he promptly
replied “No”; giving as a reason that the biggest one
that used to be in the room where they were then
talking was buried outside the gate! At first a wall
was built around the other idols, but by and by they
were all taken down from their places and disposed
of in various ways. Mateer speaks of a mud image
of Kwan Yin, about four feet high, and weighing
over two hundred pounds, still standing in his garret
in 1870.
The coming of these new mission families into the
Mills residence crowded it beyond comfort, and beyond
convenience for the work that was imperative.
The Mateers had the dining room assigned to them
as their abode, this being the best that could be
offered. Of course, little effective study could under
such conditions be put on the language which must
be acquired before any direct missionary labor could
be performed. Under the loss of time he thus was
suffering, Mateer chafed like a caged lion; and so,
as soon as possible, he had another room cleared of
the goods of Mr. Nevius, which had been stored there
until they could be shipped, and then set to work to
build a chimney and to put the place in order for his
own occupation. Thus he had his first experience
of the dilatory and unskillful operations of native
mechanics. The dining room was left without a stove,
and, on account of the cold, something had to be done
to supply the want. In all Tengchow such a thing as
a stove could not be purchased; possibly one might
have been secured at Chefoo, but most probably none
could have been obtained short of Shanghai. The
time had already come for Mateer to exercise his
mechanical gifts. He says:
Mr. Mills and I got to work to make a stove out of
tin. We had the top and bottom of an old sheet-iron
stove for a foundation from which we finally
succeeded in making what proves to be a very good
stove. We put over one hundred and sixty rivets in it
in the process of making it. I next had my ingenuity
taxed to make a machine to press the fine coal they
burn here, into balls or blocks, so that we could use it.
They have been simply setting it with a sort of gum
water and molding it into balls with their hands.
Thus prepared, it was too soft and porous to burn
well. So, as it was the time of the new year, and we
could not obtain a teacher, I got to work, and with considerable
trouble, and working at a vast disadvantage
from want of proper tools, I succeeded in making a
machine to press the coal into solid, square blocks.
At first it seemed as if it would be a failure, for although
it pressed the coal admirably it seemed impossible
to get the block out of the machine successfully.
This was obviated, however, and it worked
very well, and seems to be quite an institution.
This machine subsequently he improved so that
a boy could turn out the fuel with great rapidity.
The house, with the best arrangements that could
be made, was so overcrowded that relief of some sort
was a necessity. The Corbetts, despairing of getting
suitable accommodations for themselves, went back
to the neighborhood of Chefoo and never returned,—an
immense gain for Chefoo, but an equally immense
loss for Tengchow. Mills preferred to find a new
house for himself and family, and—after the usual
delays and difficulties because of the unwillingness of
the people and of the officials to allow the hated
foreigners to get such a permanent foothold in the
place—he at length succeeded. But that was only
a remote step toward actual occupation. A Chinese
house at its best estate commonly is of one story;
and usually has no floor but the ground and no ceiling
but the roof, or a flimsy affair made of cornstalks and
paper. The windows have a sort of latticework
covered with thin paper; and it is necessary to tear
down some of the wall, in order to have a sufficient
number of them, and to give those which do exist a
shape suitable for sash. The doors are low, few in
number, rudely made, and in two pieces. A Chinese
house may be large enough, but it is usually all in one
big room.
It fell to these missionaries to get in order the house
which Mills secured; and to do this in the heat of
summer, and during a season of almost incessant downpour
of rain. They were obliged not merely to supervise
most unsatisfactory laborers, but also to do much
of the work with their own hands. Eventually Mills
fell sick, and Mateer alone was left to complete the
job. Yet he records that on the first day of August
his associate had gone to his new residence, and he and
Julia were happy in the possession of the old temple
for their own abode. Unfortunately both of them
were taken down with dysentery. Of the day the
Mills family left he says in a letter to one of his
brothers:
Julia was able to sit up about half the day, and I
was no better. You can imagine what a time we had
getting our cooking stove up, and getting our cooking
utensils out and in order,—no, you can’t either, for
you don’t know what a Chinese servant is when of
every three words you speak to him he understands
one, and misunderstands two. However, we did
finally get the machine going, and it works pretty well.
Here they remained three years; and, here, after
they had built for themselves a really “new home,”
they long continued to carry on their school work.
But experience soon convinced them that a new
dwelling house was a necessity. The buildings which
they occupied proved to be both unhealthy and unsuitable
for the work they were undertaking. The
unhealthiness arose partly from the location. The
ground in that section of the city is low, and liable to
be submerged in the rainy season. A sluggish little
stream ran just in front of the place, passing through
the wall by a low gate, and if this happened to be
closed in a sudden freshet, the water sometimes rose
within the houses. There was a floor at least in the
main building, but it was laid upon scantlings about
four inches thick, these being placed on the ground.
The boards were not grooved, and as a consequence
while making a tight enough floor in the damp season,
in the dry it opened with cracks a quarter to half an
inch wide. The walls were of stone, built without lime,
and with an excess of mud mortar, and lined on the
inside with sun-dried brick. The result of all this
was that the dampness extended upward several feet
above the floor, and by discoloration showed in the
driest season where it had been. The floor could not
be raised without necessitating a change in the doors
and windows, and it was doubtful whether this could
be made with safety to the house. It is no wonder
that, under such conditions, Mrs. Mateer began to
suffer seriously from the rheumatism that remained
with her all the rest of her life. Added to the other
discomforts, were the tricks played them by the ceiling.
This consisted of cornstalks hung to the roof with
strings, and covered on the lower side with paper
pasted on. Occasionally a heavy rain brought this
ceiling down on the heads of the occupants; and
cracks were continually opening, thus rendering it
almost impossible to keep warm in cold weather.
An appeal was made to the Board for funds for a
new dwelling. Happily the Civil War was about
over, and the financial outlook was brightening; so
in the course of a few months permission for the new
house was granted, and an appropriation was made.
The first thing to do was to obtain a suitable piece
of ground on which to build. Mateer had in his own
mind fixed on a plot adjoining the mission premises,
and understood to be purchasable. Such transactions
in China seldom move rapidly. He bided his time
until the Chinese new year was close at hand, when
everybody wants money; then, striking while the
iron was hot, he bought the ground.
Long before this consummation he was so confident
that he would succeed that, foreseeing that he must be
his own architect and superintendent, he wrote home
to friends for specific information as to every detail
of house-building. Nothing seems to have been overlooked.
He even wanted to know just how the masons
stand when at certain parts of their work.
Early in February in 1867 he was down at Chefoo
purchasing the brick and stone and lime; and so
soon as the material was on hand and as the weather
permitted, the actual construction was begun. It
was an all-summer job, necessitating his subordinating,
as far as possible, all other occupations to this.
It required a great deal of care and patience to get
the foundations put down well, and of a proper shape
for the superstructure which was to rest upon them.
In his Journal he thus records the subsequent proceedings:
When the level of the first floor was reached I began
the brickwork myself, laying the corners and showing
the masons one by one how to proceed. I had no
small amount of trouble before I got them broken
in to use the right kind of trowel, which I had made
for the purpose, and then to lay the brick in the right
way. I had another round of showing and trouble
when the arches at the top of the windows had to be
turned, and then the placing of the sleepers took
attention; and then the setting of the upper story
doors and windows. The work went slowly on, and
when the level was reached we had quite a raising,
getting the plates and rafters up. All is done, however,
and to-day they began to put the roof on....
I hope in a few days I will be able to resume my
work again, as all the particular parts are now done,
so that I can for the most give it into the hands of the
Chinese to oversee.
The early part of November, 1867, the Mateers
lived “half in the old and half in the new.” On
November 21 they finally moved. That was Saturday.
In the night there came up a fierce storm of
snow and wind. When they awoke on Sabbath
morning, the kitchen had been filled with snow
through a door that was blown open. The wind still
blew so hard that the stove in the kitchen smoked
and rendered cooking impossible. The stair door had
not yet been hung, and the snow drifted into the hall
and almost everywhere in the house. Stoves could
not be set up, or anything else done toward putting
things in order, until Thursday, when the storm
abated.
But they were in their new house. It was only a
plain, two-story, brick building, with a roofed veranda
to both stories and running across the front, a hall
in the middle of the house with a room on either side,
and a dining room and kitchen at the rear. Much
of the walls is now covered by Virginia creeper, wistaria,
and climbing rose. It is one of those cozy
missionary dwellings which censorious travelers to
foreign lands visit, or look at from the outside; and
then, returning to their own land, they tell about them
as evidence of the luxury by which these representatives
of the Christian churches have surrounded
themselves. Yet if they cared to know, and would
examine, they would out of simple regard for the truth,
if for no other reason, testify to the necessity of such
homes for the health and efficiency of the missionaries,
and as powerful indirect helps in the work of social
betterment among the natives; and they would
wonder at the self-sacrifice and economy and scanty
means by which these worthy servants of Christ
have managed to make for themselves and their successors
such comfortable and tasteful places of abode.
TENGCHOW MISSION COMPOUND, FROM THE NORTH
Extreme left, Entrance to Dr. Hayes’ House. Behind this, part of back of Dr. Mateer’s House.
Foreground, Vegetable Gardens belonging to Chinese
The Mateer house stands on the compound of the
mission of the Presbyterian Board, which is inside
and close to the water gate in the city wall. About
it, as the years went by, were erected a number of
other buildings needed for various purposes. The
whole, being interspersed with trees, combines to
make an attractive scene.
There was nothing pretentious about the house,
but it was comfortable, and suited to their wants;
and it was all the more dear to them because to such
a large degree it had been literally built by themselves.
Here for more than thirty-one years Julia presided,
and here she died. After that Dr. Mateer’s niece,
Miss Margaret Grier, took charge previous to her
marriage to Mason Wells, and continued for some
years subsequent to that event. To this house still
later Dr. Mateer brought Ada, who was his helpmeet
in his declining years, and who still survives. This
was the home of Dr. Mateer from 1867 to 1904. It
was in it and from it as a center that he performed by
far the larger part of his life work. Here the Mandarin
Revision Committee held its first meeting.
It was always a genuine home of the most attractive
type. What that means in a Christian land every
reader can in a good degree understand; but where
all around is a mass of strange people, saturated with
ignorance, prejudice, and the debased morality consequent
on idolatry, a people of strange and often
repulsive habits of living, the contrast is, as the
Chinese visitors often used to say, “the difference
between heaven and hell.” But what most of all
made this little dwelling at Tengchow a home in the
truest sense was the love that sanctified it. Dr.
Mateer used in his later years frequently to say:
“In the thirty-five years of our married life, there
never was a single jar.” Nor was this true because
in this sphere the one ruled, and the other obeyed;
the secret of it was that between husband and wife
there was such complete harmony that each left the
other supreme in his or her department.
Here many visitors and guests received a welcome
and an entertainment to which such as survive still
revert with evidently delightful recollections. This
seems to be preëminently true of some who were
children at the time when they enjoyed the hospitalities
of that home. Possibly some persons who
have thought that they knew Dr. Mateer well, may
be surprised at the revelation thus made. One of
those who has told her experience is Miss Morrison,
whose father was a missionary. He died at Peking,
and subsequently his widow and their children removed
to one of the southern stations of the Presbyterian
Mission. It is of a visit to this new home at
Tengchow that Miss Morrison writes. She says:
Two of the best friends of our childhood were Dr.
Calvin Mateer and his brother John. We spent
two summers at Dr. Mateer’s home in Tengchow,
seeking escape from the heat and malaria of our
more southern region. It could not have been an
altogether easy thing for two middle-aged people to
take into their quiet home four youngsters of various
ages; but Dr. and Mrs. Mateer made us very welcome,
and if we disturbed their peace we never knew
it. I remember Mrs. Mateer as one of the most sensible
and dearest of women, and Dr. Mateer as always
ready in any leisure moment for a frolic. We can
still recall his long, gaunt figure, striding up and down
the veranda, with my little sister perched upon his
shoulders and holding on by the tips of his ears. She
called him “the camel,” and I imagine that she felt
during her rides very much the same sense of perilous
delight that she would have experienced if seated on
the hump of one of the tall, shaggy beasts that we had
seen swinging along, bringing coal into Peking.
Dr. Mateer loved a little fun at our expense. What
a beautiful, mirthful smile lit up his rugged features
when playing with children! He had what seemed to
us a tremendous ball,—I suppose that it was a football,—which
he used to throw after us. We would
run in great excitement, trying to escape the ball,
but the big, black thing would come bounding after
us, laying us low so soon as it reached us. Then with
a few long steps he would overtake us, and beat us
with his newspaper till it was all in tatters. Then
he would scold us for tearing up his paper. I remember
not quite knowing whether to take him in earnest,
but being reassured so soon as I looked up into the
laughing face of my older sister.
Of other romps she also tells at length. Several
old acquaintances speak of his love of children, and
of his readiness to enter into the playfulness of their
young lives. He dearly loved all fun of an innocent
sort; perhaps it is because of the contrast with his
usual behavior that so many persons seem to put
special emphasis on this feature of his character.
In those early days Pei-taiho in the north, and
Kuling and Mokansan in the south, had not been
opened as summer resorts. Chefoo and Tengchow
were the only places available for such a purpose,
and there were in neither of them any houses to receive
guests, unless the missionaries opened theirs. Tengchow
became very popular, on account of the beauty
of its situation, the comparative cleanness of the town,
and the proximity to a fine bathing beach. As a
usual thing, if one mentions Tengchow to any of the
old missionaries, the remark is apt promptly to
follow: “Delightful place! I spent a summer there
once with Dr. Mateer.” Pleasant as he made his
own home to his little friends, and to veterans and
recruits, he was equally agreeable in the homes of
others who could enter into his spheres of thought
and activity. He was often a guest in the house of
Dr. Fitch and his wife at Shanghai, while putting his
books through the press. He was resident for months
in the China Inland Mission Sanitarium, and in the
Mission Home at Chefoo. Dr. Fitch and his wife,
and Superintendent Stooke of the Home, tell with
evident delight of his “table talk,” and of other
ways by which he won their esteem and affection.
When the summer guests were flown from Tengchow,
the missionaries were usually the entire foreign
community,—a condition of things bringing both
advantages and disadvantages as to their work. On
the one hand, the cause which they represented was
not prejudiced by the bad lives of certain foreigners
coming for commercial or other secular purposes from
Christian lands. On the other hand, they were left
without things that would have ministered immensely
to their convenience and comfort, and which they
often sadly needed for their own efficiency, and for
their health and even for their lives. This was
largely due to the tedious and difficult means of communication
with the outside world. For instance,
it was six weeks until the goods which the Mateers
left behind them at Chefoo were delivered to them
at Tengchow. Letters had to be carried back and
forth between Tengchow and Chefoo, the distributing
point, by means of a private courier. When, by and
by, the entire band joined together and hired a carrier
to bring the mail once a week, this seemed a tremendous
advance. The cost of a letter to the United
States was forty-five cents.
But the most serious of all their wants was competent
medical attention. How Mateer wrote home,
and begged and planned, and sometimes almost
scolded, about sending a physician to reinforce their
ranks! In the meantime they used domestic remedies
for their own sick, or sent them overland to Chefoo,
or in case of dire necessity brought up a physician
from that city. Mateer soon found himself compelled
to attempt what he could medically and
surgically for himself and wife, and also for others,
and among these the poor native sufferers. One of
his early cases was a terribly burnt child whom he
succeeded in curing; and another was a sufferer from
lockjaw, who died in spite of all he could do; and
still another case was of a woman with a broken leg.
He tried his hand at pulling a tooth for his associate,
Mr. Mills, but he had to abandon the effort, laying
the blame on the miserable forceps with which he had
to operate. Later he could have done a better job,
for he provided himself with a complete set of dental
tools, not only for pulling teeth and for filling them,
but also for making artificial sets. All of these he
often used. On his first furlough he attended medical
lectures at Philadelphia and did a good deal of dissection.
A closet in the new house held a stock of
medicines, and by administering them he relieved
much suffering, and saved many lives, especially in
epidemics of cholera. The physicians who, in response
to the appeals of the missionaries, were first
sent to the station at Tengchow did not remain long;
and for many years the most of the medicine administered
came out of the same dark closet under the
stairs of “the New Home.”
VI HIS INNER LIFE
“I am very conscious that we here are not up to the standard
that we ought to be, and this is our sin. We pray continually for
a baptism from on high on the heathen round us; but we need
the same for ourselves that we may acquit ourselves as becomes
our profession. Our circumstances are not favorable to growth
either in grace or in mental culture. Our only associates are
the native Christians, whose piety is often of a low type; it
receives from us, but imparts nothing to us. Mentally we are
left wholly without the healthy stimulus and the friction of
various and superior minds which surround men at home.
Most whom we meet here are mentally greatly our inferiors,
and there is no public opinion that will operate as a potent
stimulus to our exertions. It may be said that these are
motives of a low kind. It may be so; but their all-powerful
influence on all literary men at home is scarcely known or felt
till the absence of them shows the difference.”—LETTER TO
THE SOCIETY OF INQUIRY, IN THE WESTERN THEOLOGICAL
SEMINARY, October 1, 1867.
We have now reached a stage in this narration
where the order of time can no longer be
followed, except in a very irregular manner.
We must take up distinct phases of Mateer’s life and
work, as separate topics, and so far as practicable
consider each by itself. This is not at all because in
him there was any lack of singleness of aim or of persistence.
This man, from the time when he began his
labors in China until he finished his course, without
interruption, put his strength and personality into the
evangelization of the people of that great empire. But
in doing this he found it necessary to follow along
various lines, often contemporaneously, though never
out of sight of any one of them. For our purpose
it is best that to some extent they should be considered
separately.
But before we proceed further it appears desirable
to seek an acquaintance with his inner life. By this
I do not mean his native abilities, or his outward
characteristics as these were known and read by all
men who came much into contact with him. It is
from the soul life, and especially the religious side
of it, that it seems desirable to lift the veil a little.
This in the case of anyone is a delicate task, and
ought to be performed with a good deal of reserve.
In the instance now in hand there is special difficulty.
Mateer never, either in speech or in writing, was
accustomed to tell others much about his own inward
experiences. For a time in his letters and in his
Journal he occasionally breaks over this reticence a
little; but on November 27, 1876, he made the last
entry in the Journal; and long before this he had become
so much occupied with his work that he records
very little concerning his soul life. Still less had he
to say on that subject in his letters; and as years went
by, his occupations compelled him to cut off as much
correspondence as practicable, and to fill such as he
continued with other matters. Nothing like completeness
consequently is here undertaken or is possible.
A notion that is current, especially among “men
of the world,” is that a missionary is almost always
a sentimental dreamer who ignores the stern realities
of life. It has been my work to train a good many of
those who have given themselves to this form of
Christian service, and to have a close acquaintance
with a good many more; and I cannot now recall one
of whom such a characteristic could be honestly
affirmed. I have in mind a number of whom almost
the opposite is true. Certainly if to carry the gospel
into the dark places of the earth with the conviction
of its ultimate triumph is to be called dreaming,
then every genuine missionary is a sentimentalist
and a dreamer; and Mateer was one of them. But
in meeting the experiences of life and in doing his work,
he was about as far removed from just accusation of
this sort as anyone could be. Indeed, he was such a
matter-of-fact man that his best friends often wished
that he were less so. I have carefully gone over many
thousands of pages of his Journal and of his letters
and papers, and I recall only one short paragraph that
savors of sentimentality. It is so exceptional that
it shall have a place here. In a letter written to a
friend (Julia, I suspect), in the spring of 1861, he says:
I have lived in the country nearly all my life, and
I much prefer its quiet beauty. I love to wander at
this season over the green fields, and listen to the winds
roaring through the young leaves, and to sit down in
the young sunshine of spring under the lee of some
sheltering bank or moss-covered rock. I love to
think of the past and the future, and, thus meditating,
to gather up courage for the stern realities of life.
This is not very distressingly Wertherian, and
surely ought not, ever after, to be laid up against the
young man, the fountain of whose thoughts may at
that season have been unsealed by love.
But we sadly miss the truth if we infer that, because
he was so matter-of-fact in his conduct, he was without
tenderness of heart or depth of feeling. Dr.
Goodrich in his memorial article in the “Chinese Recorder”
of January, 1909, says of him:
I do not remember to have heard him preach, in
English or Chinese, when his voice did not somewhere
tremble and break, requiring a few moments for the
strong man to conquer his emotion and proceed.
His tenderness was often shown in quiet ways to the
poor and unfortunate, and he frequently wept when
some narrative full of pathos and tears was read. The
second winter after the Boxer year the college students
learned to sing the simple but beautiful hymn he had
just translated, “Some one will enter the Pearly Gate.”
One morning we sang the hymn at prayers. Just as
we were ending, I looked around to see if he were
pleased with their singing. The tears were streaming
down his face.
This sympathetic tenderness was as much a part
of his nature as was his rugged strength.... He
dearly loved little children, and easily won their
affection. Wee babies would stretch out their tiny
arms to him, and fearlessly pull his beard, to his
great delight.
His students both feared him and loved him, and
they loved him more than they feared him; for,
while he was the terror of wrongdoers and idlers,
he was yet their Great-heart, ready to forgive and
quick to help. How often have we seen Dr. Mateer’s
students in his study, pouring out their hearts to
him and receiving loving counsel and a father’s
blessing! He loved his students, and followed them
constantly as they went out into their life work.
A lady who was present tells that when the first of
his “boys” were ordained to the ministry he was so
overcome that the tears coursed down his cheeks
while he charged them to be faithful to their vows.
His mother’s love he repaid with a filial love that
must have been to her a source of measureless satisfaction.
Julia could not reasonably have craved any
larger measure of affection than she received from him
as her husband; and later, Ada entered into possession
of the same rich gift. One of the things that
touched him most keenly when he went away to
China was his separation from brothers and sisters,
toward whom he continued to stretch out his beneficent
hand across the seas.
He was a man who believed in the necessity of
regeneration by the Holy Spirit in order to begin a
genuinely Christian life. This is one of those great
convictions which he never questioned, and which
strengthened as he increased in age. When he united
with the church in his nineteenth year, he thereby
publicly declared that he was sufficiently sure that
this inward change had passed upon him to warrant
him in enrolling himself among the avowed followers
of Christ. But of any sudden outward religious conversion
he was not conscious, and made no profession.
In the brief autobiographical sketch previously quoted
he says:
I had a praying father and mother, and had been
faithfully taught from my youth. I cannot tell when
my religious impressions began. They grew up with
me, but were very much deepened by the faithful
preachings of Rev. I. N. Hays, pastor of the church
of Hunterstown, especially in a series of meetings held
in the winter of 1852-3.
As to his external moral conduct there was no place
for a visible “conversion”; he had no vicious habits
to abandon, no evil companions from whom to separate
himself. It was on the inner life that the transformation
was wrought, but just when or where he
could not himself tell,—an experience which as to
this feature has often been duplicated in the children
of godly households.
The impression which I formed of him while associated
with him in college was that he lived uprightly
and neglected no duty that he regarded as obligatory
on him. I knew that he went so far beyond this as
to be present at some of the religious associations of
the students, such as the Brainard Society, and a
little circle for prayer; and that he walked a couple
of miles into the country on Sabbath morning to
teach a Bible class in the Chartiers church. If I
had been questioned closely I probably would have
made a mistake, not unlike that into which in later
years those who did not penetrate beneath the surface
of his life may easily have fallen. I would have said
that the chief lack in his piety was as to the amount of
feeling that entered into it. I would have said that
he was an honest, upright Christian; but that he
needed to have the depths of his soul stirred by the
forces of religion in order that he might become what
he was capable of, for himself and for others. Possibly
such an expression concerning him at that time
of life might not have been wholly without warrant;
but in later years it certainly would have been a gross
misjudgment, and while I was associated with him
in college and seminary it was far less justified than
I imagined.
On October 13, 1856, he began the Journal which,
with interruptions, he continued for twenty years.
In the very first entry he gives his reasons for keeping
this record, one of which he thus states:
I will also to some extent record my own thoughts
and feelings; so that in after years I can look back and
see the history of my own life and the motives which
impelled me in whatever I did,—the dark and the
bright spots, for it is really the state of one’s mind
that determines one’s depressions or enjoyments.
He records distinctly that the Journal was written
for his own eye alone. One in reading it is surprised
at the freedom with which occasionally he passes
judgment, favorable and unfavorable, on people who
meet him on his way. Concerning himself also he is
equally candid. Most that he has to say of himself
relates to his outward activities, but sometimes he
draws aside the veil and reveals the inmost secrets
of his soul and of his religious life. As a result we
discover that it was by no means so calm as we might
suppose from looking only at the surface. In this self-revelation
there is not a line that would be improper
to publish to the world. A few selections are all that
can be given here. A certain Saturday preceding the
administration of the Lord’s Supper was kept by himself
and other college students as a fast day, and after
mentioning an address to which he had listened, and
which strongly appealed to him, he goes on to say:
I know that I have not been as faithful as I should.
Though comparatively a child in my Christian life,
as it is little more than a year since I was admitted
to the church, yet I have come to the table of the Lord
with my faith obscured, my heart cold and lifeless,
without proper self-examination and prayer to God
for the light of his countenance. I have spent this
evening in looking at my past life and conversation,
and in prayer to God for pardon and grace to help.
My past life appears more sinful than it has ever
done. My conduct as a Christian, indeed, in many
things has been inconsistent. Sin has often triumphed
over me and led me captive at its will. I have laid
my case before God, and asked him to humble me,
and prepare me to meet my Saviour aright. O
that God would meet me at this time, and show me
the light of his countenance, and give me grace and
strength; that for the time to come I might lay aside
every weight and the sins that do so easily beset me,
and run with patience the race that is set before me!
There seems to be some unusual interest manifested
by some just now; so that I am not without hope
that God will bless us and perhaps do a glorious
work among us. Many prayers have this day ascended
to God for a blessing, and if we are now left
to mourn the hidings of God’s face, it will be because
of our sins and our unbelief. I have endeavored to
keep this as a true fast day; yet my heart tells me
that I have not kept it as I should. Sin has been
mingled even in my devotions. Yet I am not without
hope, because there is One whose righteousness
is all-perfect, whose intercessions are all-prevalent.
Blessed be God for his unspeakable gift.
The next day, however, among other things, he
wrote:
I think that I have never enjoyed a communion
season so much.... This day my hopes of
heaven have been strengthened, and my faith has been
increased; and if I know my own heart, (O that I
knew it better!), I have made a more unreserved
consecration of myself to God than I have ever done
before; and may he grant me grace to live more to
his glory!
Surely, the young man who thus opens to our view
the secrets of his inner religious life was not lacking
seriously in depth of feeling. One is reminded of the
Psalmist’s hart panting after the water brooks.
In the seminary he still had seasons of troubled
heart-searching and unsatisfied longings for a better
Christian life. After reading a part of a book called
“The Crucible,” he says:
I have not enjoyed this Sabbath as I should. My
own heart is not right, I fear. I am too far from
Christ. I am overcome by temptation so often, and
then my peace is destroyed, and my access to a throne
of grace is hindered. I am ready to exclaim with
Paul, “Oh, wretched man that I am, who shall deliver
me from this body of death!” Would to God I could
also say with the assurance he did: “I thank God,
through our Lord Jesus Christ.”
At the same time there is evidence that he was
advancing toward a higher stage of religious experience,
and that he was leaving behind him the elements
of repentance and faith, and going on toward
“perfection.” He reads the Life of Richard Williams,
the Patagonian missionary, and then sits down and
writes:
He was a wonderful man; had a wonderful life.
His faith transcends anything I have ever had. His
communion with God was constant and joyous, at
times rising to such a pitch that, in his own words,
“he almost imagined himself in heaven.” His
resignation to God’s will and consecration to his
service were complete in the highest. In his life and
in his death is displayed in a marvelous manner the
power of God’s grace. Reduced almost to the certainty
of death by scurvy, in a little, uncomfortable
barge or float, with scarce any provisions, far from all
human help, in the midst of storms and cold, this devoted
man reads God’s Word, prays to him from his
lowly couch, and deliberately declares that he would
not exchange places with any man living! What
godlike faith! What a sublime height to reach in
Christian life in this world! I am more and more convinced
that our enjoyment of God and sweet sense of
the presence of Christ as well as our success in glorifying
God depends entirely on the measure of our
consecration to him, our complete submission of our
wills to his. My prayer is for grace thus to consecrate
and submit myself to his will. Then I shall be
happy.
I do not think that Mateer had any disposition to
follow in the footsteps of Williams by tempting
Providence through doubtful exposure of his life
and health to danger; it was the consecration to the
service of God that he coveted. He seems about
this time to have made a distinct advance in the direction
of an increasing desire to give himself up wholly
to the service of his divine Master, and to submit
himself entirely to the will of God. A most severe
test of this came to him in the questions of his duty
as to foreign missions. First, it was whether he ought
to go on this errand, and whether he was willing.
Nor was it an easy thing for him to respond affirmatively.
He was a strong man, and conscious of his
strength. For him to go to the unevangelized in some
distant part of the world was to put aside almost every
“fond ambition” that had hitherto attracted him in
his plans for life. Opportunities to do good were
abundantly open to him in this country. Tender
ties bound his heart to relatives and friends, and the
thought of leaving them with little prospect of meeting
them again in this world was full of pain. To
go as a missionary was a far more severe ordeal fifty
years ago than it is in most cases to-day. Bravely
and thoroughly, however, he met the issue. Divine
grace was sufficient for him. He offered himself
to the Board and was accepted. Then followed
another test of his consecration just as severe. For
a year and a half he had to wait before he ascertained
that after all he was to be sent. There were times
when his going seemed to be hopeless; and he had to
learn to bow in submission to what seemed the divine
will, though it almost broke his heart. When, late
in 1862, one of the secretaries told him that unless
a way soon opened he had better seek a permanent
field at home, he says in his Journal:
It seems as if I cannot give it up. I had such strong
faith that I should yet go.... I had a struggle
to make up my mind, and now I cannot undo all that
work as one might suppose. What is it? Why is it,
that my most loved and cherished plan should be
frustrated? God will do right, however; this I know.
Help me, gracious God, to submit cheerfully to all
thy blessed will; and if I never see heathen soil,
keep within me at home the glorious spirit of missions.
It was a severe school of discipline to which he was
thus sent, but he learned his lesson well.
One cannot think it at all strange that under the
conditions of the outward voyage he suffered at
times from spiritual depression. November 19, 1863,
he made this entry in his Journal:
Spent the forenoon in prayer and in reading God’s
Word, in view of my spiritual state. I have felt
oppressed with doubts and fears for some time, so
that I could not enjoy myself in spiritual exercises
as I should. I have had a flood of anxious thoughts
about my own condition and my unfitness for the
missionary work. I began the day very much cast
down; but, blessed be God, I found peace and joy
and assurance in Christ. In prayer those expressions
in the 86th Psalm, “ready to forgive,” and “plenteous
in mercy,” were brought home to my heart in power.
I trust I did and do gladly cast myself renewedly on
Jesus, my Saviour. Just before dinner time I went
out on deck to walk and meditate. Presently my
attention was attracted by Georgie (Mrs. B’s little
girl) singing in her childish manner the words of the
hymn, “He will give you grace to conquer.” Over
and over again she said it as if singing to herself.
They were words in season. My heart caught the
sound gladly, and also repeated it over again and
again, “He will give you grace to conquer.” I
thought of the parallel Scripture, “My grace is
sufficient for thee.” The Spirit of God was in those
words, and they were precious. My fears were all
gone. I was ready to go, in the strength of this word,
to China, and undertake any work God should appoint.
I went to my room, and with a full heart thanked God
for this consolation. Out of the mouth of babes thou
hast ordained strength. I am glad that I gave this
season to special seeking of God; it has done me good.
Lord, make the influence of it to be felt. I had
much wandering of mind at first, but God mercifully
delivered me from this. O, that I could maintain
habitually a devotional spirit, and live very near to
the blessed Jesus!
Though he but dimly understood it then, the Lord
was in the school of experience disciplining him in
qualities which in all his subsequent work he needed
to put into exercise: to rest on the promises of God
in darkness, to wait patiently under delays that are
disappointing, and to endure in the spirit of Christ
the contradictions of the very sinners for whose
higher welfare he was willing to make any sacrifice,
however costly to himself.
On his field of labor he was too busy with his duties
as a missionary to write down much in regard to his
own inner life. Nor is there any reason to regard this
as a thing greatly to be regretted. The fact is that
during the decade which extended from his admission
to membership in the church to his entrance on his
work in China, he matured in his religious experience
to such a degree that subsequently, though there
was increasing strength, there were no very striking
changes on this side of his character. In the past he
had set before himself, as a mark to be attained, the
thorough consecration of himself to the service of
God, and it was largely because by introspection he
recognized how far he fell short of this that he sometimes
had been so much troubled about his own
spiritual condition. Henceforth this consecration, as
something already attained, was constantly put into
practice. He perhaps searched himself less in regard
to it; he did his best to live it.
In connection with this, two characteristics of his
inner life are so evident as to demand special notice.
One of these was his convictions as to religious truth.
He believed that the Scriptures of the Old and New
Testament are the Word of God, and he was so
sure that this is radically essential in the faith of a
missionary that he was not ready to welcome any recruit
who was adrift on this subject. He believed also with
like firmness in the other great evangelical doctrines
set forth in the symbols and theologies of the orthodox
churches. His own creed was Calvinistic and Presbyterian;
yet he was no narrow sectarian. He was
eager to coöperate with the missionaries of other
denominations than his own; all that he asked was
that they firmly hold to what he conceived to be the
essentials of Christianity. Because he believed them
so strongly, these also were the truths which he
continually labored to bring home to the people. In
a memorial published by Dr. Corbett concerning
him, he says:
Nearly thirty years ago I asked an earnest young
man who applied for baptism, when he first became
interested in the truth. He replied: “Since the day I
heard Dr. Mateer preach at the market near my home,
on the great judgment, when everyone must give an
account to God. His sermon made such an impression
on my mind that I had no peace until I learned to
trust in Jesus as my Saviour.” An able Chinese
preacher, who was with me in the interior, when the
news of Dr. Mateer’s death reached us, remarked,
“I shall never forget the wonderful sermon Dr.
Mateer preached a few weeks ago in the Chinese
church at Chefoo, on conscience.” This was the
last sermon he was permitted to preach. Salvation
through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, man’s sinfulness
and need of immediate repentance, and faith, and
the duty of every Christian to live a holy life and
constantly bear witness for Jesus, were the great
truths he always emphasized. He died in the faith
of the blessed gospel he so ably preached for nearly
half a century.
Hand in hand with these great convictions went
an absolute loyalty to duty. To this he subordinated
everything else. The reason why he toiled with his
own hands, on buildings, on machinery, on apparatus,
was not because he would rather do this than preach
Christ, but because he was convinced that the situation
was such that he could not with a good conscience
refuse to perform that labor. It was not his preference
to give long years to the making of the Mandarin
version of the Scriptures; he did it because plainly it
was his duty to engage in this wearisome task. He
fought with his pen his long battle for Shen as the
word to be used in Chinese as the name of God; and
even when left in a commonly conceded minority,
still refused to yield, only because he believed that in
so doing he was standing up for something that was
not only true but of vital importance to Christianity
in China. His unwillingness under protracted pressure
to introduce English into the curriculum of the
Tengchow school and college, the heartbreak with
which he saw the changes made in the institution after
its removal to Wei Hsien, were all due not to obstinancy
but to convictions of duty as he saw it.
A man of this sort,—strong in intellect, firm of will,
absolutely loyal to what he conceives to be his duty,—travels
a road with serious perils along its line. A loss
of balance may make of him a bigot or a dangerous
fanatic. Even Dr. Mateer had “the defects of his
qualities.” He did not always make sufficient
allowance for persons who could not see things just
as he did. He sometimes unwarrantably questioned
the rectitude of others’ conduct when it did not conform
to his own conception of what they ought to
have done. But these defects were not serious enough
greatly to mar his usefulness or to spoil the beauty
of his character. His wisdom as a rule, his rectitude,
his entire consecration to the service of God in the
work of missions, his wealth of heart, after all, were
so unquestionable that any wounds he inflicted soon
healed; and he was in an exceptional degree esteemed
and revered by all who came into close touch with
him.
Was Dr. Mateer a very “spiritually-minded man”?
It is not strange that this question was raised, though
rarely, by some one who saw only the outside of his life,
and this at his sterner moments. He even did much
of his private praying when he was walking up and
down in his room, or taking recreation out on the city
wall, and when no one but wife or sister knew what
he was doing. One had to be admitted to the inner
shrine of his heart to appreciate the fervor of his piety.
VII DOING THE WORK OF AN EVANGELIST
“I have traveled in mule litters, on donkeys, and on foot
over a large part of the province of Shantung, preaching from
village to village, on the streets, and by the wayside. Over
the nearer portions I have gone again and again. My preaching
tours would aggregate from twelve thousand to fifteen
thousand miles, including from eight thousand to twelve
thousand addresses to the heathen.”—AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL
SKETCH, 1897.
The first thing which Mateer set himself to do,
after he arrived at Tengchow, was to acquire
the language of the people. The difficulties
which the Chinese tongue presents to the foreigner are
too well known to need recital here, nor was it easier to
Mateer than to other persons possessed of good ability
and thorough education. In January, 1902, at the
request of Secretary Speer, he prepared for the use of
the Board of Missions a paper on the subject of
“Missionaries and the Language.” In it he does not
profess to be telling his own experience, and yet it is
largely an exhibit of what he had himself done. In
the introductory paragraph he says:
One of the tasks, and to many one of the trials, of
missionary life, is the learning of a new, and often a
difficult language. So far as the message of the gospel
is concerned, the tongue is tied until the language is
learned. I set it down as a first principle, that every
missionary should go out with a distinct and fixed
determination to learn the language and to learn it
well. Let there be no shrinking from it, no half
measures with it. Laxity of this purpose in this
matter is unworthy of anyone who is called to be a
missionary. When I hear a young missionary, after a
few weeks or months on the field, saying, “I hate this
language; who can learn such outlandish gibberish as
this?” my opinion of his fitness for the work at once
suffers a heavy discount. Every young missionary
should consider it his or her special business to fall in
love with the language as quickly as possible.
Then he proceeds to lay down certain general
principles and thoroughly to elaborate them; insisting
that everyone can learn the tongue of a people, not
merely well enough to make some sort of stagger at
the use of it, but thoroughly; and giving directions
as to the best method of accomplishing this result.
At the same time he recognizes the fact that by no
means all missionaries are able to acquire the language
so perfectly that they are competent to contribute to
the permanent Christian literature of the country.
In his case there were exceptional difficulties as to
this preliminary work. Printed helps were few and not
very good. Competent native teachers were almost
impossible to obtain at Tengchow, and were liable at
any time to abandon their work. Besides, so long as
the Mateers were hampered by their narrow quarters,
along with other missionaries, in the old temple, and
while he was compelled to give almost the whole of his
strength to the repairs and construction of buildings,
for him to accomplish what he otherwise might have
done in this line was impossible. Under date of
December 24, 1864, almost a year after his arrival
at Tengchow, he wrote in his Journal:
I have been studying pretty regularly this week, yet
to look back over it, I cannot see that I have accomplished
much. Learning Chinese is slow work.
I do not wonder that the Chinese have never made
great advances in learning. It is such a herculean
task to get the language that a man’s best energies are
gone by the time he has himself prepared to work. It
is as if a mechanic should spend half his life, or more,
in getting his tools ready. Before I came to China
I feared that I would have trouble acquiring the
language, and I find my fears were well grounded.
This confession is very notable, coming as it does
from the pen of him who subsequently, as one of his
associates said after his death, “became not only the
prince of Mandarin speakers among foreigners in
China, but also so grasped the principles of the
language as to enable him in future years to issue
the most thoroughgoing and complete work on the
language, the most generally used text-book for all
students of the spoken tongue”; and it may be added,
who was selected by the missionaries of all China, in
conference, to be chairman of the committee to revise
the Mandarin version of the Scriptures, and who in
all that work was easily the chief. The diligence
with which he improved every spare moment in the
study of the language is shown by a letter of Mrs.
Julia Mateer, in which she writes of reading aloud
to her husband in the evening while he practiced writing
Chinese characters.
Really he was making better progress than probably
he himself imagined. On January 14, 1865, he began
to go regularly into the school, to teach the children
a phonetic method of writing the Chinese characters.
He records that on February 7 he took charge of
the morning prayers, and adds:
It seemed very strange indeed to me to pray in
Chinese, and no less awkward than strange. I found,
however, less embarrassment in doing it than I at first
supposed. I might easily have begun some time ago,
but our school-teacher performs the duty very acceptably,
and so I left the matter to him until I was fully
prepared. I trust that it will not be long till I will
be at home in using Chinese.
Tengchow is the seat of one of the competitive
literary examinations for students, and at the season
when these are held thousands of candidates present
themselves. Under date of March 11, of that year,
he says:
A goodly number of the scholars have come to see
me, to get books and to hear “the doctrine.” I have
had opportunity to do considerable preaching, which
I have not failed to embrace. Some of them understood
me quite well. I find a great difference between
talking to them and to the illiterate people. They
understand me a great deal better. Most of them
listen with attention, and some of them with evident
interest. They all treated me with respect. I gave
them books; they promising to read them, and to
come again at the next examination.
These occasions continued to offer like opportunity
in succeeding years, and he took all the advantage of
it that he could. Only rarely did students give him
any cause for annoyance. On May 22 he went to a
fair that was held just outside one of the gates, and
tried his hand at preaching to that miscellaneous
audience in the open air. In the forenoon he talked
himself tired, and returned in the afternoon to repeat
the effort, but with what effect he could not tell.
Rain came on and he had to stop. He added in his
Journal, “Oh, how I wish that I could use Chinese as
I can English,—then I could preach with some comfort!”
On Sabbath, June 19, he preached his first
sermon before the little Chinese church organized
at Tengchow. The notice he had was short, Mills
having been taken ill, and sending him word that he
must fill the pulpit. He says: “I could not prepare
a sermon, and translate it carefully and accurately.
I had just to get ready some phrases, and statements
of the main points, and depend on my Chinese for the
rest. I got on better than I expected I should, though
to me at least it seemed poor enough.” We need not
follow the process of his acquisition of the language any
further, except to say that he never ceased to study it,
and to seek to improve in it, although he came by
and by to be able to use it, in both speaking and writing,
so well that the Chinese often took more pleasure
in hearing and reading his productions than if he had
been a native.
As the senior missionary, Mills had charge of the
church organized at Tengchow, and any preaching
that Mateer did in it was occasional. It was not
long before a movement was organized for evangelistic
work on the streets, and he gladly took part in that
method of work. He was anxious also to obtain a
room which he could use as a chapel. His first efforts
to secure such a building were rendered futile on
account of the intense opposition of the people, and
the disinclination, or worse, of the officials to enforce
his legal rights in this matter, under the treaty. It
was not until the middle of April, 1867, that he succeeded
in opening a room where he and his Chinese
assistant could have a regular place for preaching and
selling books. It stood on a principal street, and
was, therefore, as to location, well suited for the work
to which it was set apart. The opening of it was the
occasion for the gathering of a crowd of rowdies who
threw stones at the doors, and otherwise created disturbance;
but prompt arrest of the ringleader and
the haling of him before a magistrate brought the
rowdyism to a close. Of course, the school afforded
another local opportunity for evangelization, and it
was from the very first effectually employed.
Tengchow itself was not very responsive to the
gospel. The demand for books was soon satisfied
to such an extent that sales became small. The
novelty of street preaching and of the chapel services
gradually was exhausted. The little church did not
attract many on the Sabbath, except the regular
attendants. True, a city of so many inhabitants
might seem—notwithstanding such limitations as existed—a
sufficient field for all the labor that could be
put upon it by the little band of missionaries located
there. But beyond the walls was all the rest of the
province of Shantung, with none to evangelize it save
the missionaries at Chefoo and Tengchow. That
province is in area about one-third larger than the
State of Pennsylvania; and it now has somewhere in
the neighborhood of thirty millions of inhabitants,
mostly scattered in innumerable villages, though
frequently also concentrated in cities. The climate
is about that of Kentucky, and the productions of
the soil are not very different. Part of the surface
of the country is hilly and some of it rises into mountains
of moderate height; but most of it is level or
slightly rolling. Writing to one of the secretaries of
the Board, under date of May 10, 1869, Mateer thus
expressed himself as to the strategic importance of
Shantung in the tremendous enterprise of evangelizing
China:
I think it is almost universally admitted that Tsinan
fu [the capital, situated about three hundred miles
southwest of Tengchow] offers the most promising
field for missionary effort in China. The region in
which this city lies is the religious center of China.
Here both the great sages of China, Confucius and
Mencius, were born. At Tai An, a short way to the
south, the great religious festival of China is held, and
there are unmistakable evidences that there is a religious
element in the people of this province found
nowhere else in China. I feel like saying with all my
might, Let the Presbyterian Church strike for this
province. It has given both religion and government
to China in the ages that are past, and it is going to
give Christianity to China in the future.
These pioneer missionaries in Shantung as promptly
as possible sought, first by itineration, and later by
opening new stations, to carry the gospel far and wide
over the province. In this they labored under one
serious inconvenience from which their brethren in
much of south China are exempt. Down there it is
easy to travel extensively on the rivers and the
numerous canals. In Shantung the one great river
is the Hoang, or Yellow, running from the west toward
the east; and the one important canal is the Grand,
running north and south; and both of these are so
far remote from Chefoo and Tengchow that in the
itineration of the missionaries from these places they
were of little use. As a consequence they had to
adopt the other methods of travel customary in that
region. Even to-day, though a railway runs from
the coast at Kiaochou, across Shantung to Tsinan fu,
and another across the west end of the province and
passing through Tsinan fu is almost completed, much
of the territory is no more accessible than half a
century ago. The traveler can hire a mule, or more
probably a donkey, and—throwing his bedding across
the packsaddle—make his way, with the owner of
the animal running along as driver, to the place where,
if he proceeds farther, he must hire a second mule or
donkey; and so on to the end of his journey. One
can also travel by wheelbarrow. These conveyances
are considered to be quite genteel, and are much
patronized by Chinese women. The wheels are big
and clumsy, and, being innocent of oil, creak fearfully,
and as the wheelbarrows are without springs the
passenger is jolted excruciatingly. They are propelled
by a man pushing by the handles, and often with the
aid of another, and sometimes a donkey in front, and
it may be with a sail to catch the wind. In the hilly
regions the shentza, or mule litter, is common. In
describing this conveyance Mateer said in one of his
Sunday-school letters:
The motion is various and peculiar. Sometimes
the mules step together, and sometimes they don’t.
Now you have a plunging motion like the shaking of
a pepper box, then comes a waving motion like the
shaking of a sieve; and then a rolling motion like the
rocking of a cradle, and then by turns these various
motions mix up and modify each other in endless
variety. I have often thought that if a man had a stiff
joint, one of these shentzas would be a good thing to
shake it loose. You are completely at the mercy of
these two mules. If you are sitting up you think that
you would be more comfortable lying down, and if you
are lying down you think that you would be more
comfortable sitting up. There is no relief from incessant
shaking but to get out and walk.
The most genteel mode of travel is a two-wheeled
cart, provided always that the track called a road is
wide and level enough to permit it to be used. I fall
back on the Sunday-school letter for a description
of it:
A Chinese cart is heavy and clumsy to the last
degree. It has no springs, no seat, no cushions, and
is only wide enough for one to sit in it. The only way
to keep your arms and head from being broken by
the top, is to wedge yourself in with quilts and pillows.
Passenger carts are usually drawn by two mules, one
in the shafts and the other directly in front, hitched
by two long ropes to the axle—one passing on each
side of the shaft mule. The driver either walks, or
rides on the back part of the shafts.... I took
one ride in one of these big carts, which I shall remember
while I live. We had all gone to a country
station, one hundred and twenty miles from Tengchow,
to a meeting of Presbytery. After Presbytery we
wished to go on to another station forty miles distant.
There had been a great rain, and the ground was soft,
and we could get no conveyance. At length we got
a big cart to carry our luggage and Dr. Mills and
myself. For it they rigged up a top made of sticks
and pieces of matting. The team consisted of a mule,
a horse, and two oxen, with two drivers. Mrs.
Mateer had a donkey to ride, and Mrs. Capp had a
sedan chair. Dr. Mills and myself took turns in
walking with the native elder and assistant. When
we got all our effects, bedding, cooking utensils and
so forth, in the cart there was only room for one to sit,
and the other had to lie down. The first day we
dragged through the soft earth fifteen miles, but in
order to do it we had to travel an hour after night. It
was pitch dark and we had no lantern. We came
very near losing our way, and finally had no small
trouble in reaching an inn, and when we did reach it
what a fuss there was before we got stowed in and got
our suppers! We obtained a small room for the ladies,
but Dr. Mills and I did not fare so well. We had to
sleep on the ground in a sort of shed which had no
doors. The next day we got an early start, and found
the roads a little better, and managed to make the
other twenty-five miles. During the day we crossed
a sandy river which was swollen by the rains, and
there was some danger that we might stick fast in
the sand. The native assistant crowded into the
cart. The elder put one foot on the end of the axle,
which in a Chinese cart projects several inches beyond
the hub, and supported himself by holding on to the
side of the cart. The second driver perched himself
in the same way on the other end of the axle. The
chief driver stood erect on the shafts, astride of the
shaft mule. He flourished his whip with one hand
and gesticulated with the other, and both drivers
hurrahed at the top of their voices. The team got
excited, and with heads and tails erect,—with a
splash and a dash,—we went safely through.
There is one other mode of travel, and perhaps
then still the most common of all, even with missionaries
when itinerating, and that is to walk. When the
traveler on foot comes to a river if he has long patience
he may be ferried across; but if the stream is not very
deep he may have to wade. Mateer, however, had
a good strong physique and simple tastes, and was
entirely free from any disposition to fret over small
annoyances. In those earlier itinerating days he
cheerfully took his full share in roughing it with other
missionaries out in the province. He repeatedly took
trips when all the provision he made for eating was a
spoon and a saltcellar; the food he ate was such as
he got at the inns and from place to place. His
experiences in this line of evangelistic efforts had an
important influence on his work in the school and
the college. Certainly it was a great help toward
that remarkable acquaintance with colloquial Chinese
which is shown in his literary labors.
His first trip to the country was made on October
14, 1864, and therefore before he had learned the
language sufficiently to enable him to do much missionary
work. In reality it was just a visit by the
entire foreign force stationed by both the Baptists
and Presbyterians at Tengchow out to a Chinese
Christian residing ten miles away. In a measure,
however, it was a typical journey. The roads were
execrably bad, and Mateer and another missionary
had one mule between them, so that each walked half
the way. On August 22 of the ensuing year he,
and Corbett,—who had come up for the purpose,—started
on a genuine itinerating tour. It was in one
particular an unfavorable time. A Chinese inn at
any season is apt to be uncomfortable enough to a
person who has been accustomed to the conveniences
and comforts of western civilization. In the Sunday-school
letter already quoted Mateer said:
The inns in China are various in size, but similar in
style. You enter through a wide doorway which is in
fact the middle of a long, low house fronting on the
street. On the one side of this door, or passageway, is
the kitchen, which is usually furnished with one or
two kettles, a large water jar, and a few dishes, with
a meat-chopper and chopping block. Usually there
is a little room partitioned off at the far end, which
serves for office and storeroom. On the other side is
a wide, raised platform about two feet high, made of
mud brick. It answers for the muleteers and humbler
guests, to sleep on. Inside of this front building is a
court or yard with a long shed at one or both sides,
and troughs for feeding mules and donkeys. At the
further end of this court, and sometimes at one side,
are rooms for guests. These rooms contain no furniture
but a table and a bench or two, and sometimes
a chair, with a rough board bedstead, or a raised brick
platform to take the place of a bedstead. No towel,
soap, or other toilet necessaries are furnished. They
usually have one washbasin, which is passed round,
and is used besides for washing the sore backs of mules,
and for such other necessary uses. There are no
stoves or other means of warming the rooms. Sometimes
they build a fire of straw under those brick
bedsteads, which invariably fills the room with smoke.
Or, you can order a pan of charcoal, which will fill
the room with gas. The houses are all one story and
have no ceiling. The rafters are smoked as black as
ink, and are always festooned with cobwebs. The
rooms never have wooden floors. In the more stylish
inns the floors are paved with brick, but in ordinary
inns the floors are simply the ground. In the summer
fleas and mosquitoes are superabundant, and they
attack all comers without respect of persons. Every
night there is in the courtyard a musical concert
which continues at intervals till morning, and is free
to all the guests. The tune is carried by the mules
and donkeys, and the scolding and swearing of the
muleteers make up the accompaniment. Voices of
great excellence are often heard in America, but for
real pathos and soul-stirring effect there is nothing like
a dozen or two Chinese donkeys, when they strike in
together and vie with each other for the preëminence.
No common table is set, but meals are prepared to
order and served to guests in their rooms. They
are generally charged for by the dish.
Unfortunately Mateer and Corbett had selected
for their first itineration a time of year when the
mosquitoes and fleas and other vermin are at their
worst, and they suffered accordingly.
They were gone just four weeks; and during that
period they traveled two hundred and twenty-five
miles. Much of the time it rained. At Laichow fu
for this cause they were detained a week; and they
had to lodge in a room whose roof leaked so badly
that they had to protect themselves with oilcloths
and umbrellas. The water was three feet deep on
the floor. One day they crossed twenty-two streams,
none of them large, and yet often of such a character
as to render passage very troublesome. For a while
they had a shentza borne by a couple of crowbait
mules, one of which was blind and had the trick of
suddenly lying down for a rest, and occasionally fell
flat into a mudhole, or tumbled its rider over a steep
bank. They met with a variety of treatment from
the people, but mostly it was not unfavorable to the
prosecution of their work. Foreigners were still a
curiosity in the region, and that often attracted a
crowd to see them, and to ascertain by hearing and
by reading what might be the nature of the Christian
doctrine. Once it became necessary for Mateer to
use force to repel a man who persistently tried to seize
a book. Each of the missionaries preached about
forty times, and at all sorts of places. Their largest
evident success was in disposing of books; these for
the most part by sale, the total of pages distributed
amounting to two hundred and seventy-seven thousand.
The details of the tour are given in Mateer’s
Journal. If preserved, they will one day be of extreme
interest to the Christians of China, as records of the
very beginnings of the teaching of the gospel in
Shantung.
Again, the next spring Mateer and Corbett, accompanied
by Chinese assistants, went on another
tour of preaching and of book-selling. Mateer left
Tengchow on April 5, and reached home on May 19.
They started with twenty-eight boxes of books, each
weighing about seventy pounds; and, because they
had exhausted the supply, they had to turn back before
reaching the place to which they had originally intended
to go. One of the noteworthy things in their
itinerary is that it brought them for the first time to
Wei Hsien, now one of the largest of the Presbyterian
mission stations in north China, and the site of
the College of Arts of the Shantung University;
and to Tsingchow fu, the site of the Theological
College. In both towns the Presbyterians and the
Baptists are united. All that Mateer said in his
Journal concerning Wei Hsien is:
We did not go through the city, except the suburbs.
The streets were full of people, and they were not
sparing in their expressions of enmity and contempt.
We saw a great number of elegant memorial arches
near Wei Hsien and learned that it is a very wealthy
place. This was indicated by the many elegant
burying grounds around it, and by the good condition
of the walls. The country all around, and indeed
most we passed through to-day, was very rich. A
man on the road who appeared to know told us that
one individual, the richest in the city, was worth three
million taels [then more than as many million dollars].
Tsingchow fu receives from him a much more
extended notice. He speaks of the city—although
very much smaller than evidently it once had been—as
still large and filled with business. The surrounding
country wins from him great admiration. Indeed,
at several places he was much attracted by the prospect
which spread itself out before his eyes; and
some of it reminded him even of the natural scenery
of his “Old Home” in Pennsylvania. Of course, it
must not be supposed that all the region they traversed
was the equal of this; much of it was far less
attractive in almost every particular.
On this journey they had a great variety of experiences,
some of them far enough from pleasant.
Nearly everywhere they went, curiosity attracted
crowds of adults and of children. This seems to
have been especially true in the neighborhood of Wei
Hsien and Tsingchow fu. At the inns where they
stopped, privacy was almost impossible; the people
peering in at the windows and bolting into the room
they occupied. Sometimes they were compelled to
expel the intruders with a dash of water or with an
uplifted cane. Harder to bear were the opprobrious
epithets applied to them. Mateer said:
Every village I come to, the term, “devil!” “devil!”
comes ringing in my ears. Not that they always
called it at me, but to one another, to come and see.
Frequently, however, it was called out most spitefully,
for me to hear. I think that within the last two days
I have heard it from at least ten thousand mouths.
It is strange how such a term could have gotten such
universal currency. It expresses not so much hatred
to the gospel as it does the national enmity of the
Chinese to foreigners.
Happily at the present time foreigners are seldom
saluted by this epithet. At Chang Tsau they had
two serious disturbances. The first was caused by
some sort of soothsayer, in whom the people had
much confidence. While Mateer was surrounded by a
crowd of men to whom he was selling books, in rushed
this man, brandishing an ugly looking spear; and,
using the Chinese expression of rage, “Ah! Ah! I’ll kill
you!” he drove the spear straight at Mateer’s breast.
In those early days of his missionary work Mateer
carried a revolver for self-defense when going to
places where he might be attacked, believing that he
had a moral right to protect himself from assault by
evil-minded persons. On this occasion the revolver
was drawn instantly. As the man came closer
Mateer seized the spear, and warned the intruder
of the consequences if he advanced a step farther.
The risk was too great for the courage of the soothsayer,
and he went away crestfallen, but cursing the
missionary, threatening to return and kill him, and
launching his anathemas against anybody who bought
the books. After the disturbance the people were not
so eager to buy, and an official tried to induce Mateer
to cease his efforts, but, partly to show the futility
of such interruptions, he continued, until at length
weariness compelled him to stop.
The other incident occurred in connection with the
selling of books at a market. A man took advantage
of a moment when the missionary was receiving pay
from a purchaser, and snatched away a book, but
Mateer seized and held him until the book was
restored. This led to an altercation between the
Chinese assistant and the thief, and blows were struck.
The disturbance began to spread, and several of the
crowd seemed disposed to lay hands on Mateer,
when a significant reference to the revolver brought
the movement to a prompt termination. In order to
show the people that the missionaries were doing only
what is lawful under the treaty, and that they would
not put up with insult or wrong, they sought satisfaction
through the official having jurisdiction, and
warned him that the case would be brought to the
notice of the American consul at Chefoo.
There is no record of any itineration again until
the latter part of February, 1869. That trip was not
long in duration or very extensive in its territory.
Julia and her sister Maggie accompanied Dr. Mateer
and were able to reach large numbers of women with
the gospel. July 21 of the same year he and Julia went
on a tour of twelve weeks, their main objective being
Chow Yuen, where Miao, a zealous young convert,
was opening a chapel. The story as to him can most
appropriately be told in another chapter.
On November 10 of the same year Dr. Mateer and
Julia began a journey which lasted twenty-four days,
during which they traveled about two hundred and
fifty miles, some of the road being very hilly and rough,
and the weather cold. Their course was directed to
certain localities where there were converts, and
where a beginning had been made by these native
Christians to give the gospel to their neighbors. One
of these places was Laichow fu, at which two of these
had been spreading the light around them, one of them
having given a commodious chapel, with a guest room
attached, in which the Mateers lodged. During a
stay of three days they preached to large numbers;
and especially on the last day all opposition was swept
away, and men and women came in crowds. In a
village in the district of Ping Tu they conducted
service in a little chapel on the Sabbath. In a letter
to one of the secretaries of the Board he said:
The chapel was so crowded that we were barely
able to have any regular service for the benefit of the
native Christians. We had finally to postpone our
principal service till after night. I baptized five,
the four who had previously been accepted, and one
other who, though not very well instructed, was so
earnest in his profession of faith that we did not feel
that it would be right to refuse him. After this the
Lord’s Supper was administered. The circumstances
made it one of the most interesting services of the
kind I have ever been privileged to conduct. At the
farthest point at which the gospel has yet got a foothold,
in a house set apart by a native Christian for
the worship of the true God, the majority of the company
having never before participated in such a service,
the circumstances were altogether such as to
make the occasion one long to be remembered.
On February 13, 1873, he and Crossett began a tour
that lasted about three months and carried them far
into the interior of Shantung. They traveled in all
about a thousand miles, and preached and sold books
in over a hundred cities and towns. Once a man
threatened Mateer with a manure fork, and once he
was struck by a stone thrown in a crowd by some
unknown miscreant. The usual epithet for foreigners
saluted them; but, on the whole, they escaped
any serious molestation. On this trip they visited
Tai An, the great temple, and the sacred mountain,
and ascended the steps to its summit. For a week
they remained preaching in the temple to the crowds.
They also went to the tomb of Confucius, and to the
magnificent temple dedicated to the sage, in that
neighborhood. At that date not many foreigners had
seen these Chinese shrines; but now they have been
so often described that it would scarcely be justifiable
to cite the full and interesting record made by Mateer
in his Journal as to what he saw and did at these
places. Thence they proceeded as far as the capital,
Tsinan fu, where Mateer remained for eighteen days,
while Crossett went on a journey still a couple of
hundred miles farther to the north and west, in company
with an agent of the Scottish Bible Society,
which had been canvassing the province for six or
eight years. At the close of this tour they regarded
the work of book-selling for most of Shantung as so
far completed as henceforth to deserve a more subordinate
place. During part of his stay at the capital
Mateer preached and sold books, and part of the time
he remained in his hired lodgings to receive visitors,
of whom he had not a few. To him one of the
interesting sights was the Yellow River. On their
return journey they took in Tsingchow fu, and also
Ping Tu, where the Christians then were terrified by
persecution.
After this he made only one more exclusively
evangelistic itineration. The care of the infant
churches and other duties called him to continue to
go longer and shorter distances from home; and in
connection with this he did a great deal of preaching
here and there by the way. For instance, in 1881 he
attended a meeting of the Mission at Tsinan fu, and
incidentally he preached in a hundred and sixty-three
villages. It was travel for the specific purpose
of carrying the gospel into wholly unevangelized
regions that he ceased to perform. In a friendly
letter written to his cousin, Mrs. Gilchrist, as early as
June 28, 1875, he said:
The first years I was in China I traveled a good
deal, and preached and sold books in the streets.
I have not done so much of it the last two or three
years, having been more closely engaged in my school.
The younger men in the mission have been doing it
chiefly. I am preparing a number of books for the
press, and this has taken a good deal of time, and will
take time in the future.
That final evangelistic itineration was made in
1878, and lasted from the middle of October to the
middle of November. It was out toward the general
region of Ping Tu and Laichow fu. The party
consisted of Mateer and Mills, Mrs. Mateer and
Mrs. Shaw, and a couple of Chinese assistants. Mrs.
Mateer and Mrs. Shaw visited the native Christians
while the men went to districts where there were no
churches. In a letter to the Board Mateer said:
We each hired a donkey to carry our bedding and
books, while we walked from village to village, and
preached in the streets. I preached in this way in
one hundred and ninety villages, and Mr. Mills in
about as many. We went aside from the great roads
into villages never before visited by any foreign
missionary. We had audiences of from eight or ten,
up to two or three hundred. In many cases we had
a goodly proportion of women as hearers. Our reception
was very various, for which in most cases we have
no means of accounting. In some cases many came
out to see and hear us. In other cases no one seemed
inclined to pay any attention to us, and a considerable
time would elapse before we would succeed in drawing
a company to preach to. In one village I failed entirely
to get anyone to listen. A goodly number saw
us, but they passed by without stopping. One boy
ventured to ask where we came from, when instantly
a man near by at work reproved him for speaking to
us. My assistant and I sat and waited about half
an hour, and then went on to the next village. We
carried a few books in our hands as a sort of advertisement
of our business, and to give to such as would
accept them. Sometimes the books were readily accepted,
and we could have given away any number;
but frequently not a soul would accept a book. No
doubt some would have liked very well to have a book,
but they were ashamed to accept it from the hated
foreigner in the presence of so many of their neighbors
and acquaintances. Only in two or three cases was
any open hostility shown us, and in these it was
confined to two or three individuals who failed to
carry the crowd with them, so that in spite of their
attempts to scatter our audience we still had plenty
of hearers.
Then as to the value of this kind of missionary
effort he added an estimate from which he never
deviated, and which in substance he continued to
repeat:
This method of work is very excellent, and at the
same time very laborious. It reaches obscure places,
and a class of people—those who stay at home—not
otherwise reached. To be successful it must be
pursued at a time of year when the people are somewhat
at leisure.
VIII THE TENGCHOW SCHOOL
“The object of mission schools I take to be the education of
native pupils, mentally, morally, and religiously, not only that
they may be converted, but that, being converted, they may
become effective agents in the hand of God for defending the
cause of truth. Schools also which give a knowledge of western
science and civilization cannot fail to do great good both
physically and socially.”—THE RELATION OF PROTESTANT MISSIONS
TO EDUCATION; a paper read before the Shanghai Missionary
Conference of 1877.
The Tengchow School in 1884 was authorized
by the Board of Missions to call itself a college.
For several years previous to that date it
deserved the name because of the work which it was
doing in its advanced department. On the other
hand, it did not cease at that time to maintain instruction
of an elementary and intermediate grade. In the
present chapter we will for convenience confine our
attention mainly to the twenty years lying between
the opening of the school and the formal assumption
of the name of a college. Beyond the end of that
period lies the story of the institution under the title
of the Shantung College, for another twenty years at
Tengchow; and since then, of the Shantung Union
College, at Wei Hsien.
Under date of April 2, 1864,—less than three months
after the Mateers arrived at Tengchow,—Dr. Mateer
made this entry in his Journal, “We have it in prospect
to establish a school.” Their plan at that time
was to leave the Mills family in possession of the old
Kwan Yin temple, and to find for themselves another
house where they could reside and carry on this new
enterprise. But when, during the latter part of that
summer, they were left in sole possession of the temple,
they proceeded at once so to fit up some of the smaller
buildings in the court as to make it possible to
accommodate the little school. In September the
first term opened, with six little heathen boys, not one
of whom had ever been to school before; and with
quarters consisting of two sleeping rooms, a kitchen,
and a small room for teaching. Chang, who was
Mateer’s instructor in Chinese, was set to work also
to teach these boys; and a native woman was put in
charge of the cooking department. To Julia he always
attributed the initiation of this entire work. For the
first ten years the school was almost entirely hers, he
being otherwise at work. In a conversation with Mrs.
Fitch, of Shanghai, many years later he said:
When Julia began the boarding school for boys in
Tengchow I thought it a comparatively small work;
but as it enlarged, and also deepened, in its influence,
I saw it was too much for her strength alone. I knew
that we must put our own characters into those boys,
and I could do nothing less than give myself to the
work she had so begun.
Almost half a century ago, when the school was
started, and for some time afterward, mission boards
and missionaries had not settled down into their
present attitude toward education, lower or higher,
as an agency in the evangelization of the non-Christian
world. There were some very earnest and intelligent
workers who insisted that for an ordained
minister to engage in teaching a school was for him to
be untrue to the calling for which he had been set
apart. To sustain their position they appealed to
apostolic example, and pointed to the small results as
to conversions in the instances in which this method
had been tried. Among the advocates of schools also
there was a lack of agreement as to the immediate
object to be sought by the use of this agency. Ought
it to be so much the conversion of the pupils, and
through this the raising up of a native ministry, that
all other results should be regarded as of small importance?
Or, ought the school to be looked upon as
an efficient means of preparing the soil for the good
seed of Christian truth to be sown later by preaching
the gospel? In the paper from which the quotation
at the head of this chapter is taken Mateer ably and
fully discussed all of these questions, bringing out
fairly both sides of them, and then presented his own
convictions as he held them from the beginning of
his missionary career, and as he unswervingly adhered
to them all the rest of his life. He disclaimed
any intention to exalt education as a missionary agency
above other instrumentalities, and especially not
above preaching the gospel; and claimed for it only
its legitimate place. As to this he laid down and
elaborated certain great principles involved in the
nature of the case and verified by experience. Education,
he said, is important in order to provide an
effective and reliable ministry; to furnish teachers
for Christian schools, and through them to introduce
into China the superior education of the West; to
prepare men to take the lead in introducing into
China the science and arts of western civilization, as
the best means of gaining access to the higher classes
in China, of giving to the native church self-reliance,
and of fortifying her against the encroachments of
superstition from within and the attacks of educated
skepticism from without. On the last of these propositions
he enlarged with wise foresight:
So long as all the Christian literature of China is
the work of foreigners, so long will the Chinese church
be weak and dependent. She needs as rapidly as
possible a class of ministers with well-trained and well-furnished
minds, who will be able to write books,
defending and enforcing the doctrines of Christianity,
and applying them to the circumstances of the church
in China.... Again, as native Christians increase
in numbers, and spread into the interior, they
will pass more and more from under the direct teaching
and control of foreigners. Then will arise danger
from the encroachment of heathen superstition, and
from the baneful influence of the Chinese classics.
Superstitions of all kinds find a congenial soil in the
human heart, and they often change their forms without
changing their nature. The multiform superstitions
of China will not die easily; and unless they are
constantly resisted and ferreted out and exposed,
they will commingle with Christianity and defile
it.... The day is not distant when the skepticism
of the West will find its way into China. The
day when it shall be rampant is not so distant as
might be supposed. Error is generally as fleet-footed
as truth. To repel these attacks, and vindicate the
truth in the face of heathen unbelief, will require a
high order of education. An uneducated Christianity
may hold its own against an uneducated heathenism,
but it cannot against an educated heathenism. We
want, in a word, to do more than introduce naked
Christianity into China, we want to introduce it in
such a form, and with such weapons and supports,
as will enable it to go forward alone, maintain its
own purity, and defend itself from all foes.
In view of these ideals with regard to the object of
such schools, he concluded his paper by urging that
they should be of an advanced grade rather than
primary, though not excluding the primary; that the
natural sciences should be made prominent in the
instruction; and that the pupils should be of Christian
parentage, rather than of heathen. His prophecy
as to skeptical books from the West is already in
process of fulfillment.
It needs to be recognized that the substance of all
this was in his mind when he opened that little elementary
school. But he had to begin with something
that fell almost pitifully short of his ideal. The
first thing that was necessary was to secure a few
pupils under conditions that made it worth while,
in view of his object, to teach them. One of these
conditions was that the parents of the boys should
formally bind themselves to leave them in the school
six or seven years, so that they might finish the studies
prescribed. Otherwise they would stay only as long
as suited them or their parents, and they would all
the while be exposed to heathen influences that likely
would nullify the Christian instruction received. On
the other hand, this arrangement made it necessary for
the school to furnish gratuitously not only the buildings
and the teachers, but the food and lodging and
clothes of the pupils. Gradually this was so far
modified that the parents provided their clothes and
bedding and books. To meet the running expenses
of the school the average cost of each pupil was
ascertained, and an effort was made to secure from
Sabbath schools in the United Stales a contribution
of that amount. The plan of designating a particular
boy for support by a particular Sabbath school was
suggested from home for consideration, but was
discouraged, on the ground that it might often prove
disappointing, through the uncertainties as to the
conduct of the boy; and it was rarely, if at all, practiced.
In order to secure these contributions each
year a letter had to be carefully prepared, and then
duplicated, at first by hand, and later by lithographing
process, and sent to the Sabbath schools that shared
in giving for this purpose. These letters were of a
very high order, taking for the theme of each some
important phase of Chinese life and manners or of
mission work. They might to advantage have been
gathered into a volume; and if this had been done, it
would be entitled to rank with books of the very best
kind on the same general subject. The preparation
of these letters and their multiplication and distribution
cost very considerable time and labor; to lighten
this for her husband, Julia rendered valuable assistance,
even to the extent eventually of taking upon
herself the entire work, except the printing.
The average expense of a boy was at first estimated
at forty dollars, but with the rise of prices as the
years went by, this estimate had to be raised. The
scheme worked well enough to enable the school not
only to go on, but gradually to increase its numbers
as other events opened the way. Nor was there any
difficulty in obtaining all the pupils that could be
accommodated. At the beginning all were from
families who were too poor to educate their boys in
native schools, and to whom the fact that in addition
to the good education received, their boy was also
clothed and fed, proved inducement sufficient to overcome
the opprobrium of allowing him to fall under
the influence of the hated foreigner. It really meant
no little in those early days, and, in fact, in all ante-Boxer
times, for parents, even though Christians, to
send their boys to the Tengchow school. An honored
native pastor who was at one time a pupil there wrote:
When my parents first sent me to school, there was
a great protest from all the village. They tried to
scare my mother by saying that the foreigners were
vampires who could extract the blood of children by
magic arts. Nevertheless I was sent; though I must
own that I was a little scared myself. When I came
home at Chinese New Year vacation, I was most carefully
examined by all these prophets of evil; and when
they found that not only my pulse was still a-going,
but that I was even rosier and in better flesh than
before, they said that the three months I had been
there were not enough to show the baneful results;
only wait! After the Germans took Kiaochow and
began the railroad, the rumors in that region became
worse. Under each sleeper a Chinese child must be
buried. To furnish axle grease for the “fire-cart”
human fat must be tried out—anyone could see the
great boilers they had for the purpose; and under
those great heaps of fresh-turned earth they buried
the bones.
At the time of the Tientsin massacre it was currently
reported that Mateer was fattening boys for the purpose
of killing them, and then taking their eyes and hearts
to make medicine with which to bewitch the people.
Nevertheless the numbers were always full, except
at brief intervals, when reduced by popular disturbances,
epidemics or such causes. The school in its
second year had twelve pupils, just double the number
with which it began its work. It will be remembered
that in 1867 the Mateers built and occupied their
new home. This vacated the old Kwan Yin temple
premises. In the application to the Board to erect
the new home Mateer said:
We do not propose to vacate the old premises, but
to appropriate them to the school, for which they
would be admirably adapted. We look forward with
confidence to an increase of the school. Our present
number of scholars, however, occupy all the room we
can possibly spare; if we increase we must build not
only sleeping rooms, but a large schoolroom. This
would not, it is true, cost as much money as a foreign
house, but it would not come as far below as perhaps
you might suppose. The main building would make
one or two most admirable schoolrooms, which will
accommodate any school we will likely ever have.
One of the side buildings would make a very convenient
dining room and kitchen, and the other, with additional
buildings made vacant, would with a very little
refitting furnish at least ten new rooms besides what
we now have. It will probably be many years before
we will have more than these.
With all his largeness of vision he did not yet foresee
the coming Tengchow college; though he was planning
for greater things for the mission as well as for the
health and comfort of himself and wife.
Because the language employed was solely Chinese,
at the beginning neither Mateer nor his wife could
take part in the instruction; all had to be done by
the Chinese assistant, who was a professing Christian.
It was not long, however, until both the Mateers were
able to help; though at no time did he give himself
exclusively to teaching. The boys were taught to
read and write in their own language, so that for themselves
they might be able to study the Bible and other
books which they were expected to use. Arithmetic
was a part of this course in the elementary department
with which the school began, and it was one of the
very first of the branches of which Mateer took
charge. Mrs. Mateer had a class in geography, and
widened their vision of the world by informing them
of other lands besides China. Three times a week she
undertook the peculiarly difficult task of instructing
them to sing. Of course, there was morning worship.
This was held in the schoolroom. The service consisted
of a hymn, of a chapter in the New Testament
read verse about, and a prayer. There was also
evening worship. On Sabbath morning all attended
the little native chapel. In the afternoon a sort of
Sunday school was held, and in it Mateer taught the
bigger boys, and Mrs. Mateer the smaller, in the
Scriptures. At worship on Sabbath evening he questioned
them all in turn about the sermon in the
morning. Such was the very humble way in which
the school was nurtured in its infancy, and started on
the road to become what has been pronounced to be
the very best of all the colleges in China.
Three months after the first opening the six pupils
admitted were reduced to three, because the fathers
of the other boys were unwilling to sign the obligation
to leave them in the school the required number of
years. A decade after the school was begun Mateer
said in a Sunday-school letter:
Our boys are from nine or ten to eighteen or twenty
years, and a number of them have been in school seven
or eight years. If they have never been to school, we
require them to come for twelve years, but take them
for a less time if they have already been several years
in a native school. We try to get those who have
already been to school, as it is a saving both of labor
and of money.
At the end of a quarter of a century after the school
was begun he said:
During these years we took many boys into the
school who came to nothing. Some were too stupid,
and we had to send them away after they had learned
to read and knew something of the Bible. Others
were bad boys, and we had to dismiss them; and some
got tired and ran away, or were taken away by their
parents because they wanted them at home to work.
We sifted out some good ones, who were bright and
promised to make good men.
The pupils they retained at the end of the first
ten years were culled out of more than twice their
number. Of the routine of the school he wrote:
The boys go to school at six o’clock in the morning,
and study till eight. Then all meet in the large
schoolroom for prayers. After this there is a recess
of an hour for breakfast. At half-past nine they go
to school again, and remain till half-past twelve. In
the afternoon they have another session of four hours.
During the shortest days of winter they have an
evening session instead of a morning session. These
are the ordinary hours of study in the native schools.
At first we thought so many hours in school too much
for either health or profit, but after trying our plan
for several years, we were convinced that for Chinese
children and Chinese methods of study the native
plan is best. The great business in Chinese schools
is committing the classics, which they do by chanting
them over rhythmically at the top of their voices,
each one singing a tune of his own, and apparently
trying to “hollow” louder than the others. The din
they make would be distracting to one of us, but the
Chinese teacher seems to enjoy it. The exercise it
gives the lungs compensates, perhaps, for the want
of more play hours. When Mrs. Mateer or I go into
the school to hear classes, we, of course, make them
stop their uproarious studying, and study to themselves.
About half the day our boys devote to Christian
and to scientific books. They learn a catechism
of Christian doctrine, “The Peep of Day,” Old Testament
history, “Pilgrim’s Progress,” “Evidences of
Christianity,” and memorize portions of Scripture.
They study also geography, ancient history, arithmetic,
algebra, geometry, trigonometry, natural philosophy,
and chemistry. They are trained in singing,
writing essays, and debating. The native books
which they study are composed mostly of the maxims
and wise sayings of Confucius and Mencius, together
with a large number of poems. These books teach
people to be honest and upright. They teach children
to obey their parents and elder brothers. They also
contain a great deal about the duties of the people to
their rulers, and of the rulers to the people. They
praise all good and virtuous men, and exhort all to
lead virtuous lives; but they offer no motives higher
than the praise of men. They teach nothing about
God or future life. They are all written in what is
called the classical style, which is to a Chinese boy
what Latin is to an American boy. These books
the boys commit to memory, and recite to their
teacher, but without understanding them. When a
book has been memorized and a boy can repeat it
from beginning to end, the teacher commences to
explain it to him. He has neither grammar nor
dictionary to help him, but must learn all from the
teacher’s lips. When a young man can repeat all
these books and give the explanation, and can write
an essay in the same style, the Chinese consider him
a scholar, and when he can do this, and in addition
has mastered all the other branches of study mentioned
above, we consider his education finished, and he graduates
from our school. A boy must have a good mind,
and be very diligent if he gets through in twelve years.
The clothes of the boys, of course, were entirely
Chinese as to material and style. Their food was of
like character. The dormitories were low rooms with
earthen floors and the bedsteads were of dry mud.
The letter continues:
Teaching the boys their regular lessons is but a
small part of the work to be done in such a school as
ours. Ways and means have to be provided to have
their food bought and properly cooked. The cook
must be prevented from stealing it, and the boys
from wasting it. Their clothes have to be made in
proper season, and mended and washed, and the boys
watched that they do not destroy them. Then each
boy’s grievances have to be heard and his quarrels
examined into and settled. Bad boys have to be
exhorted or reproved, and perhaps punished and every
possible means used, and that constantly, to make the
boys obedient and truthful and honest. We also
strive to train them to habits of industry, perseverance,
and self-reliance, without which their education
will do them no good. Thus you see that to train up
these boys so that they shall become good and useful
men requires a great deal of labor, patience, and
faith, and prayer.
Large College Building
End of Chapel (formerly Kwan Yin Temple)
College Bell Small Schoolroom
These are homely details, but we cannot overlook
them, and understand the life of the Mateers in its
connection with this work.
Discipline in any school composed of so many boys
and of such varied age could not be an easy task;
in this Chinese school it was peculiarly perplexing.
There were some unusual incidents. Falsehood,
stealing, quarreling, gluttony, and even sodomy were
offenses that had to be dealt with according to the
circumstances attending each case. One instance of
discipline was so distinctively Chinese that the description
of it by Mateer in his Journal deserves a place
here. Under date of April 9, 1869, he wrote:
One very distressing thing has happened within a
month. Leon Chin Chi was being persecuted by his
father in relation to the matter of his marriage engagement
with Shang Yuin, when in a fit of desperation he
went and bought opium, and took it to kill himself.
Some of the boys suspected him, and went to see.
They found him lying on his bed evidently in great
distress of mind, and refusing to answer any questions
save to say that his affairs were all over with. I
inferred from this, as also from his saying to one of
the boys that he would never see him again, that he
had taken poison—most likely opium. I went and
got a strong emetic, and mixed it up, but he refused
to take it. I then got a stick and used it to such good
purpose that in a very short time he was glad to take
the medicine. It had the desired effect, and in a
very short time he vomited up the opium. He seemed
to lay the beating to heart very much. It was evidently
a new idea to him to be put through in such a
style. After a day or two, when he had gone to school
again, I gave him a formal and severe whipping in
the presence of the school. I thought very seriously
over the matter of whipping him, and concluded that
it was my duty to do it. I believe now that it did the
boy good. He was called before the session last week,
when he manifested a good deal of sorrow and penitence.
He was publicly reproved and admonished
on Sabbath morning. I am sorry that he had such a
weakness; it greatly decreases my reliance on him,
and my belief in his genuine Christian character.
It must be allowed that there is some little excuse, in
the way in which the Chinese all regard suicide.
He had not got those ideas all educated out of him.
While Mateer differed in opinion from those
missionaries who favored schools simply as effective
agents for the conversion of the pupils, he regarded
this as one of the leading results to be sought and
expected. It was almost two years after the opening
of his school when he had the great joy of baptizing
one of the pupils. In describing the event to a
secretary of the Board, he said:
He is the oldest boy in the school, and is in fact a
man in years, though his education is not yet nearly
finished. He has been for two or three months feeling
that it was his duty to profess Christ, but, as he is
naturally modest and retiring, he did not make
his wish known. His mother, to whom he was uncommonly
attached, died recently, and this brought
him to a full decision. His examination before the
session was most satisfactory, showing that he has
improved well his opportunities of learning the truth.
I have great hopes of his future usefulness. He has
a good mind, and is a most diligent student, and if he
is spared, and is taught of God’s Spirit he may be
a great treasure to us in preaching to the heathen.
Three months later he wrote again of this young
man as exemplary in conduct and as growing in
grace, and added:
I am thankful that I can now say that another has
since been baptized. He is the most advanced
boy in the school, and is in fact very nearly a man.
His conversion was not sudden, but gradual, after
the manner of almost all the Chinese. We trust,
however, that he is a true child of God, and we have
strong hope that if he is spared he will make a very
useful man.
The next year three more of the largest boys were
received into the church. The session examined two
others, but thought it best for them to wait a few
weeks; and a number more were hoping to be received,
but were advised to defer the matter. Thus the
conversion of the boys gradually progressed, until at
the time when the school formally became a college,
all who had graduated, and nearly all the pupils still
enrolled who were sufficiently mature, were professing
Christians.
Julia’s sister, Maggie Brown, came out to join the
station at Tengchow early enough to render valuable
help in the initial stages of the school. In 1871 she
married Mr. Capp. One of the necessities which
Mateer recognized was that of a girls’ school, his
reason being the vital importance of providing suitable
wives for the young men whom he was training.
After her marriage Mrs. Capp took charge of
such a school, and she and her brother-in-law, Mateer,
continued to coöperate in that important enterprise.
For use in teaching she translated a mental arithmetic,
and in this she had his assistance. Dr. Corbett wrote:
“In spite of all discouragements in the way of securing
permanent and efficient heads, and of the paucity of
results, he never wavered in his support of the girls’
school, and always planned for its welfare, because he
saw in it an element necessary to the final success of
the Christian Church.” When Mrs. Capp died, she
left her little all for the erection of buildings to be used
by the school which he had encouraged, and to which
she had consecrated the maturity of her powers.
Thirteen years went by before any of the young men
graduated. The first class consisted of three men
who had completed the course, which by that time
had been enlarged beyond the curriculum already
described so as to include astronomy, the text-book
used being a good, stiff one,—no other than a translation
of Herschell’s work. Of that first class Mateer
said: “They will probably teach for a time at least.
There is more call for teachers than for preachers at
present.” Under date of May 2, 1877, he wrote as
to this first commencement:
We had a communion on the occasion. The
speeches made by the young men at graduation were
excellent, and the whole effect on the school was most
happy. The boys saw distinctly that there is a
definite goal before them and their ambition was
stirred to reach it.
The report for that year speaks as follows:
All of the graduates are men of excellent talents.
They are really fine scholars both in their own language
and literature and in western science. One of them
goes to Hangchow to take charge of the mission school
there,—a school which had flourished well-nigh twenty
years before the school in Tengchow was born. Another
of them goes to Chefoo, to teach a school for
the Scottish Presbyterian mission. The third goes
to assist Dr. Nevius in his extensive country work,
where I am sure he will render the most valuable
service. One of our former pupils, who has been
teaching in the school during the last year, also goes
to assist Dr. Nevius in the same way. This he does
of his own free will, knowing that he will have harder
work and less pay. We expect a large number of new
pupils next year. More are anxious to come than we
can take. We will try to do the best we can.
From May, 1879, to January, 1881, the Mateers
were absent from China, on their first furlough home.
During this period the school was in charge of other
missionaries, and a part of the time was without a
regular superintendent; yet it continued its work
fairly well. The return of the Mateers was made the
occasion of a reception that must have been exceedingly
pleasant to them. In the Sunday-school letter
for 1881 he described it:
From Chefoo to Tengchow we traveled in a shentza.
The weather was cold and the ground covered with
snow. We got along comfortably, however, and
reached Tengchow in safety. The schoolboys had
heard of our coming, and were all on the lookout to
meet us. It was Saturday afternoon, and they had
no school; so they all came out of the city to meet us
on the road. They met us in companies, and their
beaming faces and hearty expressions of delight made
us feel that we were indeed welcome back to Tengchow.
Their faces looked very familiar, though some of the
smaller boys had grown very much during our absence.
The next week the school closed for the year.
Late in 1881 they were gladdened by the arrival of
Robert Mateer and Lillian as reënforcements to the
mission. Robert has been one of the most efficient
of the Presbyterian missionaries in Shantung, especially
in evangelism, and is still doing most excellent
work. Lillian was attractive in person and proved
herself an accomplished and successful teacher. In
the course of time she married Mr. Samuel Walker.
The failure of his health compelled their return home.
The year 1882 seems to have been marked by a
distinct advance all along the line. The average
attendance rose to sixty-five. The new students were
selected out of the possible admissions, and consisted
of such as gave most promise as to work and character,
some of them being already well advanced in their
studies, and full-grown men. The secret of this was
the enlargement of the constituency of the institution,
through the reputation it had already won for itself
among the Chinese in general, and through the increase
of native Christians. Perhaps the most remarkable
improvement was in the prosecution of their
work by the students; a state of things due to such
causes as the presence of a larger number of select
and advanced pupils, with a fuller and higher and
prescribed curriculum, with formal public graduation
at its completion.
So straitened had their quarters become that in the
following year another building was obtained, care
being taken that its outfit should, as heretofore, be
of so plain a character as not to lift the men who went
out from the institution above their own people in
their ideas and habits of living. Of course, the
growth of the school and its differentiation according
to the stages of the curriculum necessitated a considerable
increase in the force of teachers. After
graduates began to go out, several of these were
employed. Lillian Mateer for a while helped in the
school, but it was not long until her marriage to
Mr. Walker terminated her connection with the Presbyterian
work and her residence at Tengchow. In
the autumn of 1882 very substantial and permanent
help came by the arrival of Mr. and Mrs. W. M. Hayes,
whose large services will require further notice as this
biography proceeds. Were it not that the story of
the life of Mrs. Julia Mateer is told fully in a suitable
volume, much would be said here as to her remarkable
achievements, especially in the school.
Mateer’s work in connection with the school lay
only in part in the classroom; but whatever shape it
took, it was always of such a character as to impress
his own individuality in a remarkable degree. Both
he and Julia regarded personal influence as of such
vital importance that they were not quite prepared
to welcome an increase of pupils so great as to hazard
this element of training. Dr. Corbett says: “As a
teacher he was enthusiastic and eminently successful.
He was always wide-awake and never dull; so he was
able to keep the attention of every student. Any
attempt to deceive him was useless, and students
found no comfort in going to a recitation unless they
had been faithful in their preparation.” The truth
is that, helpful as he gladly made himself to everybody
who tried to conduct himself as he ought, he was a
terror to all triflers and evildoers, old or young.
Dr. Mateer’s surname in Chinese was Ti. The tiger
is called Lao Hu. It is significant that among themselves
his students sometimes spoke of him as Ti
Lao Hu. One thing he believed with his whole heart,
and endeavored to impress in every legitimate way
on his pupils. This is that the highest office to which
a Christian man can be called is the ministry of the
gospel. In all his conduct of the school his dominating
desire was to raise up faithful, able, well-educated men,
filled with the Spirit, to go forth as ambassadors of
Christ to win China for Him. As Dr. Corbett adds:
“For this purpose he gave wise counsel, intellectual
effort, unceasing toil and daily prayer. He gave of
his own money freely to help the destitute, and make
it possible for youths of promise to fit themselves for
usefulness.”
Such, briefly told, is the story of the Tengchow
school. In the two decades of its existence it had
fully justified the consecrated wisdom of its founder
and head. From the little elementary department
with which it had opened, it had advanced so as to
become also a high school, and at length to do work
of full collegiate rank. At the time when it formally
took the name of a college, there was an average
attendance of seventy-five, including three day
scholars. It had educated more or less completely
perhaps two hundred pupils, who had come up from
Chinese families, some of them Christian and many of
them heathen. Of those who remained long enough
to be molded by the influences of the institution and
were mature enough, all made a public profession of
their faith in Christ. They had been trained to live
upright, godly, Christian lives; and they had seen
one of their number die in peace through his faith in
Christ. The character and the work of those who
had gone out to do their part in the activities of the
world were such as to command respect and confidence
and influence. For the graduates who were beginning
to be sent forth there was a demand to fill positions
of high importance, much in excess of the supply, and
by no means limited to Shantung. Besides all that
had been achieved, the prospect of far greater things
in the future was assured.
IX THE PRESS; LITERARY LABORS
“Making books is a very important branch of missionary
effort, which I would by no means depreciate; but he who would
undertake it should be sure of his call, and should not begin
too soon. There is a temptation to forego active evangelistic
work for the less laborious and perhaps more congenial work
of sitting in a study, translating or studying the literature
of the language. Much precious time is sometimes wasted
in this way, especially in the earlier stages of a man’s life,
before he is quite able to weigh himself against his work. It
is a rare thing indeed that a missionary should undertake
writing or translating a book inside of five years, and then he
should be supported by the advice and approval of his older
associates.”—MISSIONARIES AND THE LANGUAGE, 1902.
Mateer was at no time a very prolific contributor
to the home newspapers and periodicals.
For about ten years, with some frequency,
he wrote for “The Presbyterian Banner”
letters concerning the work of the mission done by
himself and others in China; but after that he was
too busy to continue such writing, except at long
intervals. Once or twice he sent to the United States
more labored replies to what he considered misleading
articles that had appeared in such periodicals as “The
Princeton Review,” in regard to the condition of
things in China. He greatly deprecated laudation
of matters Chinese and unwarranted hopefulness as
to the immediate future of their country. He was
strongly inclined to question the wisdom of the policy
which the United States was pursuing in China forty
or fifty years ago, and he did not hesitate to express
in print here at home his views on that line of topics.
Beyond these fugitive contributions to the newspapers
and periodicals he published little else in this country,
save a booklet or two, one or more of which he prepared
for the use of the Board at their request. Sometimes
he questioned whether his slight use of the home
press might not leave the impression there that he
was not doing as much as others who were more
frequent in their contributions; but all the same he
gave himself to the other work which his hands found
to do.
Most of his contributions to current literature
appeared in China and were written for “The Chinese
Recorder.” His articles in this periodical extend
over almost his entire missionary life, some of them
being brief, but many of them being elaborate discussions
of great subjects affecting directly or indirectly
the work of evangelization in non-Christian
lands. His book on the Chinese term for God was
not published until 1902, and, of course, was in English,
though with copious extracts from Chinese
literature. His only other English book was a review
of Dr. Nevius’ “Methods of Missions.”
His publications in Chinese, as we shall presently
see, were very considerable in number, and were
of large importance to the work of missions; for he
at no time allowed himself to be diverted to the
production of any treatise that would not be helpful in
the one service to which he consecrated his life. But
before he began to avail himself of the press for his
own books, he was somewhat unwillingly compelled
for a while to take the management of a printing
establishment. Down at Shanghai there was already
a mission press, the funds for the establishment of
which had in large part been contributed for that
distinct purpose, and which had been left hitherto
to the management of the Presbyterian missionaries
of that general region. The Synod of China—by
order of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian
Church in the United States—was organized in the
autumn of 1870, and the first meeting was held at
Shanghai. The condition of the mission press at
that place was brought before the synod, and was by
that body handed over to the foreign missionaries
in attendance, as more properly belonging to their
control. A plan covering the entire operation of
the plant, as drawn up by Mateer in a committee and
approved by the entire body, was sent home to the
Board for sanction, which in due time it received.
One of the things for which immediate provision was
necessary was a man to take charge of the establishment,
and the choice, after repeated efforts to secure
some other suitable person, and after his own refusal
to take the place, returned to him in such a way that
he felt that he could not decline it, if limited to a
period of a year, and with the privilege of spending
some time as necessary up at Tengchow. Of course,
temporary arrangements had to be made for the conduct
of the school. For this purpose Julia’s sister,
Maggie, was called into service; and with such assistance
as she could command she gave excellent satisfaction.
She was also in possession of the Mateer
home. As to the work to which he was thus temporarily
called at Shanghai, he said in his Journal:
While it is a very great trial to me to come to
Shanghai, it is not without some inducement. It will
increase very largely my acquaintance, and will
enlarge my knowledge of China and its affairs. Also
I hope it may be the means of getting something of
great benefit done for Julia’s health. I am very sorry
that the doctor who treated her before is not here now.
My great sorrow is that it will interfere with my
Chinese studies, and prevent me accomplishing what
I had designed.
It was not until August, 1872, that he finally went
back to Tengchow to resume his work there.
The details of his life while at Shanghai probably
would not interest most readers. He said of it in
his Journal, under date of January 29, 1872:
I neglected everything to do the work in the press,
and I worked with an assiduity that I have rarely
given to anything in my life. I had hoped when I
went to Shanghai to have some time to study, but
I found it utterly out of the question. The demands
for the press were imperative, and I just gave myself
to the work.
Two sides of his capabilities were there brought into
special requisition. One of these was his efficiency
as a business manager,—a characteristic due partly
to his native qualities, and partly to his habits of
accuracy, of wise forethought, of careful oversight,
and of insistence on the faithful performance of duty
by all employees. This side of his character is brought
out by his “letter books.” Separation by the space
of half a globe from the base of supplies made it
necessary to anticipate wants by eight or ten months.
For convenient reference he caused every business
letter, and many others, to be copied. Especially
as the school and college at Tengchow grew on his
hands he had to conduct what was in reality a large
miscellaneous business, under conditions that were
very exceptionally difficult. He had not only to
provide for his own wants in his family and in his
work, but also to accommodate others by acting as
their agent. His orders had to go sometimes to
Shanghai, but more frequently to London, or to
New York, or to some place in the interior of the
United States. Many are curiosities, owing to the
nature and the range of articles included—from a
steam engine or a telescope or costly chemical supplies
to a paper of pins. Some of the lists cover more than
ten pages in the copy. Woe to the merchant or
agent in London or New York or Shanghai who by
mistake or for other reason sent without adequate
explanation any article that was not quite in accordance
with the order! He might expect to get a sharp
letter, and a demand to rectify the mistake if that
were practicable. Service as treasurer of the mission
also gave him drill. Shilly-shally workmen are one
of the horrors which sometimes call from him in his
Journal groans of anguish. When he had completed
his charge of the press establishment, including as
it did a book department, a job department, a dwelling
for the superintendent, quarters for the workmen,
all of whom were Chinese, a chapel for these workmen,
and other equipments, it was a well-organized
business, running regularly and smoothly, and doing
its work about as efficiently as was possible under the
conditions.
The other side of his capabilities there especially
called into exercise was his mechanical gifts. As an
illustration, the following from his Journal, under the
same date as that just given, will answer:
I had to get a Japanese dictionary started, and it
was a most embarrassing affair. My predecessor
had made promises which he could not fulfill. The
men were there to print, and yet we had to send to
England for paper to do the job. Also all the pronunciation
marks for Webster’s dictionary were to be
put in, and we did not have the type or the matrices.
I had to have the letters cut on wood, and matrices
made; this was a world of trouble. Some of the
letters were cut over half-a-dozen times or more, and
after all they were far from perfect. I also had a set
of shaped music types cut, and this took a deal of
time and pains to get them all properly cut, as also
to get the matrices made. I finally succeeded quite
well in both respects.... I also experimented
not a little in stereotyping, and succeeded in doing
fair work. I trained one boy who stereotyped
Matthew before I left. In order to carry it on effectually
and rapidly I had a furnace and press made and
fitted up, which after sundry changes worked very
well.... I also had a new style of case for
Chinese type made, which I think will be an improvement
on the old. I also had a complete and thorough
overhauling of the matrices, reassorted them all,
and had new cases made. This was a serious job,
but it will I am sure prove a very great help to the
efficient working of the establishment.
He consented to manage the press only until a
competent man could be secured to take it off his
hands. When casting about for such a person, his
mind had been directed to his brother John, nearly
a year before he was himself forced into this position.
John had hoped to go to college, and to prepare for
the ministry, and to go out as a missionary, but, on
account of certain tendencies developed as to his
health, he was compelled to abandon his purpose.
As to his mechanical gifts and his ability to turn them
into use in a great variety of ways, he resembled
Calvin; and the latter was so confident that John
could soon fit himself to be a competent superintendent
of the press at Shanghai that he advised the
Board of Missions to make inquiry in regard to him.
The result was that eventually he was selected for
the place, and he arrived in China early in August,
1871. Before he could satisfactorily enter on his
duties it was necessary for him to acquire some
knowledge of the language and to acquaint himself
with the business committed to his charge. This
detained Calvin until late in that year; and after a
period of some three months spent at Tengchow,
he returned to Shanghai to assist John in moving
the press to new and much better premises that had
been purchased. The moving proper was a heavy job,
requiring a week of hard, dirty labor. The distance
was about a mile, mostly by water, but by land a
hundred or more yards at either end. While thus
engaged, although he was no longer officially at the
head of the business, he took the main charge, so as
to allow his brother to give his time chiefly to the
acquisition of the language and to other things that
he needed to learn.
The new place is the same now occupied by the
press in Peking Road. Under the superintendency
of Rev. G. F. Fitch, it has become the center not
only of the Presbyterian missions, but of the general
missionary activity all over China. In writing to
his brother as early as November, 1869, he said of
this plant: “It is a very important place, and would
give you an extensive field for doing good. The
establishment is not very large, it is true, as compared
with similar establishments in such cities as New York
or Philadelphia; yet it is the largest and best of the
kind in China. It not only does all the printing for
all our missionaries, but a great deal of job work
for others; besides making and selling a large amount
of type.” After he had completed his term of the
management, and while helping John to get into the
traces, he wrote to one of the secretaries of the Board:
I am not in favor of enlargement, but I would be
very sorry to see the present efficiency of the press
curtailed. It is doing a great and a good work not
only for our missions, but for all China. It has exerted
a prodigious collateral influence both in China and
in Japan, affording facilities for the production of all
kinds of scientific books, dictionaries, and so forth.
Aside from any general interest in the missionary
work, having at no small sacrifice left my proper work
and given more than a year to the press, and also
having a brother here in charge of it, I feel a lively
interest in its future.
The last record that has come down to us concerning
his work there is: “We have just sold to the Chinese
government a large font of Chinese type. They are
going to use movable metal type. This is a large
step for them to take, and it will do good. China
yields slowly, but she is bound to yield to Christianity
and Christian civilization.”
At no subsequent period of his life had he any
part in the management of a printing establishment,
but indirectly he continued to have much to do with
the press. He was a member of a joint committee
of the Shantung and the Peking mission, in charge
of publications, and as such he had to acquaint himself
with what was needed, and with what was offered,
so as to pass intelligent judgment. Unofficially and
as a friend whose aid was solicited, he revised one or
more of the books which his associates submitted
to him for criticism. At the General Conference of
Missionaries, held at Shanghai in 1877, a committee,
of which he was a member, was appointed to take
steps to secure the preparation of a series of schoolbooks
for use in mission schools. Not long afterward
he published an elaborate paper on the subject,
discussing in it the character which such publications
should have, and especially calling attention to the
need of peculiar care as to the Chinese words which
ought to be employed in the treatises on the sciences.
That committee diligently set itself to work, and
initiated measures for a rather comprehensive set
of books by various missionaries to meet the want
recognized in this general field. He was himself
called upon to prepare several books, some of which he
was willing to undertake; others he put aside as not
properly falling to him. In one or two instances he
claimed for himself precedence as to treatises suggested
for others to write. Some friction occurred, and when
the Conference met again in 1890 that committee
was discharged, and an Educational Association,
composed of missionaries familiar with the needs of
schools, and confining its functions more exclusively
to the publication of books for teaching—largely
under his leadership—was formed. He was its first
chairman. This change he had warmly favored, and
he was an active member of the Association. In
it he was chairman of a committee on scientific terms
in Chinese, a subject of great difficulty, and of prime
importance in the preparation of text-books. In
the subsequent years he was so much occupied with
the revision of the Mandarin Bible, and with other
duties, that he could give to the technical terms only
a secondary place in his activities. Still, six years
after he accepted this chairmanship he says: “I have
collected a large number of lists of subjects for
terms in chemistry, physics, mathematics, astronomy,
geology, metallurgy, photography, watch-making,
machinery, printing, music, mental and moral philosophy,
political economy, theology, and so forth.”
Subsequently he continued this work.
The first literary production of his own pen in
Chinese was a tract on infant baptism; this was
called forth by local conditions at Tengchow. A small
sheet tract, entitled “A Prayer in Mandarin,” also
followed early. As chairman of the committee appointed
by the Educational Association, he made a
report on chemical terms, and recommended a new
and distinctively Chinese method for the symbols
in that science. This was printed.
In a preliminary report of the Shanghai press, made
in September, 1871, he, in a list of books in course of
preparation, mentions under his own name as author
the following: “1. Catechism on Genesis, with
answers to the more difficult questions,—finished,
needing only a slight revision. 2. An explanation of
the moral law as contained in the ten commandments,—half-finished.
3. Scripture Text-Book and
Treasury, being Scripture references by subjects,
supplying in great part the place of a concordance,—one-third
finished.” All of these had been under way
for several years, but had been frequently shunted
off the track by other imperative work. Very soon
after that date the catechism was published. He had
a good deal to do with Julia’s “Music Book,” especially
in coining appropriate terminology, though he
never claimed joint authorship in it. Along with Dr.
Nevius, he published a hymn book for use in Chinese
services; and down to the close of his life, especially
on a Sabbath when he did not preach, he now and then
made an additional Chinese version of a hymn. In
fact, whenever he heard a new hymn that especially
moved him he wished to enrich the native collection
by a translation of it into their speech. One which
the Chinese came greatly to like was his rendering
of the Huguenot song, “My Lord and I.” A subject
that was always dominant in his mind and heart was
the call to the ministry, and it was significant that one
of the last things on which he worked was a translation
of the hymn which has the refrain, “Here am I,
send me.” It was not quite finished when his illness
compelled him to lay down his pen; but recently at
a meeting of the Chinese student volunteers, constituting
a company rising well toward one hundred and
fifty, that hymn was printed on cards, and a copy was
given to each of these candidates for the ministry. In
1907 he had carried a theological class through the
Westminster Shorter Catechism, and as an outcome
his translation was published. This is the last religious
book he made in Chinese. During his long service
as a missionary he taught a number of theological
classes in various studies, and his lectures were
regarded as very superior, but he published none of
them.
His schoolbooks all originated in the necessities
of his own work as a teacher. The first thus to force
itself upon his attention was an arithmetic. He was
already at work on it in 1868, and it went to press
while his brother John was superintending the plant
at Shanghai. The preparation of such a book, to
one unacquainted with the conditions under which
this one was made, may seem to have been a rather
easy undertaking, and to have required little more
than a sufficient mastery of the Chinese language and
of English; yet there were some perplexing questions
that arose in connection with it. For instance, the
method of writing numbers horizontally was wholly
unknown to the Chinese. Should the new arithmetic
use the western, or should it retain the Chinese
method? To retain the Chinese would be to train
the pupils in a usage that would be confusing in subsequent
reading of western mathematics; to abandon
it would be equally confusing in printing the text
of the book, which, according to Chinese usage, must
be arranged perpendicularly. The difficulty was
gotten over by duplicating each pattern example,
giving it once horizontally and once perpendicularly.
Pupils using the book were permitted to take their
choice in performing their work, but in the text proper
all numbers appeared vertically. Such lines as those
dividing the numerator and denominator of a fraction
stood perpendicularly, with the figures to the right
and the left. Until he published his arithmetic,
the Chinese numerals had been employed; he introduced
the Arabic. At the dawn of the new era subsequent
to the Boxer outbreak, almost the first book
in demand by Chinese teachers and pupils outside the
mission schools was a western arithmetic; and among
others put upon the market were many “pirated”
editions of Mateer’s book, printed on cheap paper
and with wooden blocks. The publishers had not
yet learned the significance of “copyright.” The
circulation of the book, however brought about, had
at least the effect of immediately increasing the reputation
of its author among the scholarly classes outside
the church. Of the editions issued by the press at
Shanghai tens of thousands of copies have been sold.
Dr. Fitch writes that “it is impossible to state the
total number,” and that “the book has gone into all
parts of the empire.”
In October, 1884, he submitted to the schoolbook
committee of the Educational Association the manuscript
of his geometry, and in doing so he said of it:
It is the result of much pains and labor....
The book is written in plain Wen-li, and much pains
has been taken to make it smooth in style and accurate
in meaning. In the few equations used I have introduced
the mathematical signs employed in the West,
of which I have given a full explanation in the beginning
of the book.... Mathematical signs
and symbols are a species of universal language, used
alike by all civilized nations, and it is unwise to change
them until it is absolutely necessary. The young men
who have given most effective assistance in the preparation
of this geometry are decided in their opinion
that we should not change or garble the mathematical
symbolism of the West, but give it to them in its
integrity. The only change made is in writing
equations perpendicularly instead of horizontally,—a
change which is necessitated by the form of Chinese
writing.
The book was published the following year. To
the same committee he reports in March, 1882, that
his algebra was then all in manuscript, and only
needing revision and some rearrangement before printing.
The geometry was followed by his algebra,
first part. These have had a large sale, though,
because fewer studied this branch, not the equal of
the arithmetic.
On January 14, 1908, he sent to the manager of the
press the preface to the second volume of his algebra,
which covers the same ground as the “University”
edition in the United States. Of this Dr. Hayes says:
“Over twenty years ago he began the preparation
of Part II of his algebra, and the draft then made was
used in manuscript for many years. Other duties
pressed upon him, and he was compelled to lay it
away unfinished. Yet he had not forgotten it, but
from time to time he would make a step in advance.
It was only a few months before his death that the
work was completed and published.”
There were a number of other books which he
planned, on some of which he did considerable work,
but none of which he completed. One of these was
so colossal in its projected scope and scholarship that
it deserves special notice because indicative of the
large things to which early in his missionary career
he was already eager to give his time and abilities.
This was a Mandarin dictionary. In its preparation
he sought to associate with himself Rev. Chauncey
Goodrich, of Peking; and in writing to him under date
of June 6, 1874, he thus stated his conception of the
work:
My idea of the book is a dictionary of the spoken
language of north China, in all its length and breadth,
including on the one hand all the colloquialisms that
the people use in everyday life,—all they use in
Chi-li and in Shantung, and in all the Mandarin-speaking
provinces, so far as we can get it, noting,
of course, as such, the words and phrases we know
to be local. Further, let it include as a prominent
feature all sorts of ready-made idiomatic phrases,
and in general all combinations of two or more characters
in which the meaning coalesces, or varies from
the simple rendering of the separate characters.
Considerable preliminary work had already been
done, when the death of Mrs. Goodrich compelled
her husband to withdraw from the partnership; and
the project was abandoned by Mateer, though with
a hope that it might be resumed. In 1900, however,
as the fruit of this and kindred studies he published
an analysis of two thousand one hundred and eighteen
Chinese characters. This little book was designed
to help children in dictation exercises to write characters,
and is still largely used for this purpose by
mission schools. The huge dictionary, though never
completed, had three direct descendants. With Dr.
Goodrich it produced first a Chinese phrase book,
and then a pocket Chinese-English dictionary, which
for brevity and comprehensiveness is a marvel, and
which is regarded by almost every student of Chinese
as a necessity. In marked contrast with these two
volumes is an immense dictionary left behind in
manuscript by Dr. Mateer. It is wholly in Chinese;
and as it lies unfinished it occupies more than a cubic
foot of space, and consists of a set of volumes. No
comprehensive dictionary of the Chinese language has
been published for two hundred and fifty years, and
the last issued had been mainly classical. The object
of this was to supply the evident need of a great
new work of that sort. One insurmountable difficulty
encountered was a phonetic arrangement commanding
common usage. None had the requisite approval.
Fortunately, on this undertaking Dr. Mateer did not
spend his own time, except so far as that was necessary
to direct the preparation of it by his scribes when they
were not otherwise employed.
In his letter to his college classmates in 1897 he
says that he has “well in hand a work on electricity,
and one on homiletics prepared when teaching theology.”
Neither of these was finished and published.
To his college classmate, S. C. T. Dodd, Esq., he wrote
in 1898 that he was trying also to finish a work on
moral philosophy. In March, 1878, he wrote to Dr.
W. A. P. Martin, of Peking: “You will remember
probably that when you were here I spoke of my intention
to make a natural philosophy by and by. You
said, ‘Go ahead,’ and that you would retire in my
favor by the time mine was ready, say, ten years
hence. If I am spared I hope to have the book ready
within the time, if not sooner. As you know, natural
philosophy is my hobby, and I have taught it more
thoroughly probably than has been done in any other
school in China. I intend when I visit America to
prepare myself with the material and the facilities
for such work.” He was not able to find time for
this work; and when later Dr. Martin invited him to
write for the revised edition of his treatise the chapter
on electricity, this privilege had for the same reason
to be put aside. He had also advanced far toward
the completion of a translation of “Pilgrim’s Progress”
into Mandarin.
His “Mandarin Lessons” was published early in
1892, and immediately commanded a success even
larger than its author may have anticipated. Ever
since, it has gone on toward a more general use by
foreigners wishing to master the language, and has
now far outstripped every other work of its kind.
He was a quarter of a century in making the book.
June 28, 1873, he made the following entry in his
Journal concerning it:
Most of last week and this I have spent in making
lessons and planning a much larger number than I
have made. Mr. Mills urged me to work at them for
Dr. ⸺’s benefit, as he did not seem to take hold of
Wade. I did not think of what a job I was sliding
into when I made three lessons for Maggie a few years
ago. I have now laid out quite an extensive plan,
and if I am spared I trust I shall be able to finish it,
though it will take a deal of work. I believe that I
can produce a far better book than any that has yet
been brought forth. I was not intending to do this
work now, and cannot work much more at it, as other
matters imperatively demand attention.
Guided by the hint in this quotation, we are able
to trace the book still farther back to its very beginning.
June 20, 1867, he said in his Journal:
“Maggie Brown [Julia’s sister] has been pushing on
pretty lively with the Chinese. I made her lessons
for a good while, which she studies, and now she is
reading ‘The Peep of Day.’ I tried to make her
lessons with a view to bringing out the peculiarities
of Chinese idiom. It led me to a good deal of thinking
and investigating. I have a mind to review and
complete the work, and may some day give it to the
world. My great difficulty is in classifying the results
attained.”
As the years went by his ideas of the plan for the
work took definite shape. In one of his letters concerning
it he wrote:
Each lesson illustrates an idiom, the word idiom
being taken with some latitude. The sentences,
as you will see, are gathered from all quarters, and
introduce every variety of subjects. I have also
introduced every variety of style that can be called
Mandarin, the higher style being found chiefly in
the second hundred lessons. The prevailing object,
however, is to help people to learn Mandarin as it is
spoken. I have tried to avoid distinct localisms, but
not colloquialisms. A large acquaintance with these
is important, not to say essential, to every really
good speaker of Mandarin. It is, of course, possible
to avoid the most of them, and to learn to use a narrow
range of general Mandarin which never leaves the
dead level of commonplace expressions, except to introduce
some stilted book phrase. This, however, is
not what the Chinese themselves do, nor is it what
foreigners should seek to acquire. Many colloquialisms
are very widely used, and they serve to give
force and variety to the language, expressing in many
instances what cannot be expressed in any other way.
I have tried to represent all quarters, and in order to
do so I have in many cases given two or more forms.
In the pursuit of his plan he sought the aid of
competent scholars in the north and in central China,
so as to learn the colloquialisms and the usage of words;
also in the preparation of a syllabary of the sounds
of characters as heard in each of the large centers where
foreigners are resident. To accomplish this he also
traveled widely. Late in 1889, after a summer spent
in studying the dialects of China, he, in company with
Julia, made a three months’ trip to the region of the
Yangtse, going down on the Grand Canal, spending a
month on the great river, and remaining a month at
Nanking; always with the main purpose of informing
himself as to the current Mandarin, so as to perfect
his book. This tour enabled him to give it the final
revision; and in his opinion it “more than doubled
the value” of the “Lessons.” As finished, they were
a huge quarto of six hundred pages, which with the
help of Mrs. Julia Mateer he saw through the press
down at Shanghai. In 1901, assisted by Mrs. Ada
Mateer, he issued a more elementary work of the same
general nature.
The protracted study and care which he put upon
the “Lessons” were characteristic of him in all his
literary productions. Upon this subject no one is
better qualified to bear testimony than is Dr. George
F. Fitch, Superintendent of the Presbyterian Mission
Press, at Shanghai, who speaks from direct personal
observation. He says:
One very marked characteristic of Dr. Mateer was
the almost extreme painstaking with which he went
over any work which he was getting ready for publication;
revising and re-revising, seeking the judgment of
others, and then waiting to see if possibly new light
might dawn upon the subject. I remember reading
shortly after I came to China the manuscript of a
paper which he had prepared with great labor, upon
the much-mooted “term question”; and in which he
had collected, with infinite pains, seemingly a great
number of quotations from the Chinese classics and
other native works, bearing on the use of Shen as the
proper word for God in Chinese. I urged him to
publish at once, as I thought it might be useful in
helping settle that question. But he stoutly refused,
saying that it was not yet complete. Nor did it
finally see the light, in print, until nearly twenty
years afterward.
None of his books at all reveal the protracted and
toilsome process of the preparation. We see only the
result of years of research. For instance, in his
library there was a long row of Chinese books each
one of which showed a large number of little white
slips at the top. Each one of this multitude of marks
had been placed there by some student whom he had
employed respectively to read works in Chinese
likely to use the word Shen, in order to indicate the
passages at which he needed to look. All these were
canvassed, and the different shades of meaning were
classified.
From the “Mandarin Lessons,” and recently from
the arithmetic, he received substantial pecuniary
returns, though not at all sufficient to entitle him to
be regarded as wealthy. In his manner of living he
would have been untrue to his training and impulses
if he had not practiced frugality, economy, and
simplicity. As the means came into his possession
he used them generously both for personal friends and
for the promotion of the cause to which he had consecrated
his life. Of his outlays for the school and
college we shall presently need to speak. The
expenses of the Yangtse trip came out of his own
pocket. March 9, 1895, he wrote to one of the secretaries
of the Board:
The mission minutes spoke, if you remember, of
my intention to erect a building for a museum and
public lecture room, and present it to the Board.
This I intend to do at once. It will cost about
twelve hundred dollars, possibly more. I may say
in the same connection also that my “Mandarin
Lessons” has fully paid all the cost of printing,
and so forth, and I expect during the next year to
pay into the treasury of the Board one thousand
dollars, Mexican. This I do in view of the liberality
of the Board in giving me my time while editing and
printing the book. When the second edition is
printed I expect to pay over a larger amount. I
need not say that I feel very much gratified that the
book has proved such a success: especially do I feel
that it has been, and is going to be, very widely useful
in assisting missionaries to acquire the Chinese
language. My scientific books are also paying for
themselves, but as yet have left no margin of profits.
May 20, 1905, he wrote to a secretary: “I may say,
however, that in view of the great importance of the
school both to the Tengchow station and as a feeder
to the college at Wei Hsien, I have set apart from the
profit of my ‘Mandarin Lessons’ enough to support
the school for the present year.” December 13, 1906,
he wrote to a friend in the United States: “My
brother is now holding a large meeting of elders and
leading men from all the stations in this field. There
are about three hundred of them. It is no small
expense to board and lodge so many for ten days.
I am paying the bill.” In one of his latest letters
to me he mentions this ability pecuniarily to help as
affording him satisfaction.
X THE CARE OF THE NATIVE CHRISTIANS
“The need of the hour in China is not more new stations with
expensive buildings and wide itinerating. It is rather teaching
and training what we have, and giving it a proper development.
Most of all we should raise up and prepare pastors and preachers
and teachers, who are well grounded in the truth, so that the
Chinese Church may have wise and safe leaders.... There
are already enough mission stations, or centers, in the province,
if they were properly worked. The need of the hour is to
consolidate and develop what we have, and by all means in
our power develop native agency, and teach and locate native
pastors,—men who are well grounded in the faith.”—LETTER
TO SECRETARY FOX, of the American Bible Society, January 6,
1906.
Dr. Mateer believed that sooner than most
missionaries anticipated the Chinese Christians
will join together and set up an independent
church. He meant by this not merely a union
of the ministers and churches of the various Presbyterian
denominations at work in the country, such as
has already been effected, but an organization that
would include in its membership all the Protestant
Christians, and that would leave little or no place for
the service of foreign missionaries. He regarded this
as inevitable; and for that reason he considered it
to be of prime importance that such an effective
preliminary work should promptly be done, that
this coming ecclesiastical independence might not be
attended by unsoundness as to creed or laxity in life.
At the same time, in holding up the care and the
training of the native Christians as so important a
part of the work of the foreign missionary in China, in
anticipation of what is ahead, he was only for an additional
reason urging what he had in all his long career
recognized as second to no other in importance. Of
course, at the beginning of the effort to give the gospel
to a people it is indispensable to do “the work of an
evangelist”; that is, to seek by the spoken word and
by the printed book to acquaint them with elementary
Christian truth, and to endeavor to win them to
Christ; and we have already seen how diligent Dr.
Mateer was in this service, especially in his earlier
missionary years. But he was just as diligent in
caring for the converts when gained; and in the school
and college it was the preparation of men for pastors
and teachers and evangelists that was constantly his
chief aim.
The first body of native Christians with whose
oversight he had anything to do was that very small
band that had been gathered into the church at
Tengchow. Mills was the senior missionary, and as
such he presided over that little flock until his death.
In 1867 he was installed as the pastor, and he continued
in this office nearly twenty years. During
this long period Dr. Mateer at times supplied the
pulpit and cared for the church in Mills’s absence or
illness, but for most of the time it was only as a sort
of adviser that he could render help in that field.
We have no reason to think specially unfavorably
of Chinese converts because some of those with whom
he then had to do at Tengchow, or elsewhere, proved
themselves, to him, to be a discouraging set of professing
Christians. Were not a good many of Paul’s
converts very much of the same grade when he
traveled among the churches, and wrote his letters?
Did it not take much patience, and fidelity, and persistence
on the part of Christ to make anything worth
while out of his select disciples? Yet these constituted
the membership of the primitive church from
which even the missionaries of our day have originated.
At any rate some of the earliest experiences of Dr.
Mateer with the native Christians were of a very
depressing sort. In his Journal, under date of March
17, 1864, he made this record:
Since coming to Tengchow there have been great
difficulties in the native church. Several of the members
were accused by common fame of various immoral
practices,—one of smoking opium, another of
lying and conforming to idolatrous practices, and
another of breaking the Sabbath. The second of these
confessed his fault, and was publicly reproved; the
third also confessed, and on his profession of penitence
was restored to the confidence of the church. But
though the first confessed to the use of the ashes of
opium, he gave no certain assurance of amendment;
and he was suspended, and so remains. These matters
gave us all a great deal of anxiety and sorrow of heart.
It is sad thus to find that even those who profess the
name of Christ are so much under the power of sin.
It is one of the great discouragements of the missionary
work. Yet God is able to keep even such weak ones
as these unto eternal life.
Under date of September 15, 1866, he told of a
worse case of discipline:
We had a hearing with the accused, and gave him
notice that he would be tried, and of the charges and
witnesses. We wrote to Mr. Corbett at Chefoo, to
get depositions for us. He did so, and we met, and
tried him. The evidence was sufficient to convict
him of lying, and of forging an account, and of
adultery; notwithstanding, he denied it all, endeavoring
to explain away such evidence as he was forced
to admit. We decided to excommunicate him, and
it was done two weeks ago.
It must not be supposed that there was a great deal
of such discouraging work; as a rule, the native Christians
tried to live correct lives; and the worst that
could be said of most of them at those early dates was
that they were “babes” in Christ. But we cannot
appreciate what the missionary needs to do as to the
professed converts unless we look at this depressing
phase. Besides, incidentally we are thus shown one
of the methods by which the native Christians were
trained in the conduct of their own churches. Each
case is dealt with just as is required by the regulations
of the denomination with which the church is associated.
The same formalities and processes are employed
as if in the United States; the same fairness
and fullness of investigation, with witnesses and hearing
of the accused; and the same effort neither to
fall below nor to exceed what justice and charity combined
demand for the good of the individual and of
the organization as a whole. As to this, in these particular
cases no exceptional credit can be claimed for
Dr. Mateer; but we can be perfectly sure that it
commanded his hearty approbation. This was a
practical school also in which was called into exercise
a quality of which a young missionary, and especially
a man of his type, seldom has enough,—that of
mingling a firm adherence to truth and righteousness
with a forbearing kindness that will not break a
bruised reed or quench the smoking flax. Gradually
this became so characteristic of him that the boys in
his school and the Christians in the churches were
accustomed to come to him and unburden themselves
not only of sorrows, but of faults, with no expectation
that he would condone wrong or shield them from
its just consequences, but confident that he would
feel for them, and help them if he could. Nor was
it to these classes alone that his heart and hands
opened. As they came to know him better, the professor
in the imperial university sought his advice
and the coolie turned to him in his need; and never in
vain.
But there was a brighter side to the experience
of those early days. Several of the boys in the school
were converted. What joy this afforded, we who
live in Christian lands cannot appreciate. The little
church at Tengchow also steadily moved forward
in those early days of its history. In 1869 it had
risen to about fifty members, and the attendance was
such that a building solely for its services became
indispensable; and in due time an appropriation was
made by the Board of Missions, first for a lot, and soon
after for a house of worship. Pastor Mills was then
absent, and by appointment of presbytery Dr. Mateer
acted as stated supply. As such, having first bought
the lot, he made an appeal to the Board for the new
edifice, saying:
We hold our services in the boys’ schoolroom, which
has been kept inconveniently large, for this very
purpose. It is the only room that will seat all, and
it will not do it sometimes. The desks have to be
carried out every Sabbath; and all the benches,
chairs, and so forth, about the establishment carried
in, making a decidedly nondescript collection. Aside
from the inconvenience, two serious drawbacks are
felt. One is the want of sacred associations about
the place. All heathen are wanting in reverence,
and no small part of what they need is to have this
idea instilled into their minds. We greatly need in
this work a house especially devoted to the worship
of God. The other drawback is the disorganizing
effect the Sabbath and week-day services have on the
school. The room being in the midst of the premises,
it is impossible to prevent a large amount of lounging,
gossiping, and so forth, in the boys’ room before the
service begins. The superintendent feels that it is
a very serious drawback to the school, as well as an
injury to the native Christians.
Any American who is familiar with students and
their habits will perceive that in this matter Chinese
young men and boys are very much like those of our
own land.
In that appeal there is another paragraph that
deserves transcription here:
It has been said that the Christians in heathen lands
ought to build their own churches, but this is impossible
in the early stages of the work, especially at the
center of operations, where the foreigner preaches and
teaches in person, and where a large part of his hearers
are often from a distance. The church at this place
gives character to the whole work in the eyes of the
people at large, and must of necessity differ in many
respects from churches in small places presided over
by native pastors. Concerning these last we have
already taken a decided stand, requiring the natives
to help themselves to a great extent.
Dr. Mateer was appointed by the presbytery to
serve a second year as stated supply of the Tengchow
church; and had it not been that he was called in
1870 to Shanghai to take charge of the mission press,
he no doubt would have given his personal supervision
to the erection of the new house of worship. It
was built during his absence, and when he came back
he rejoiced in its completion. At the death of Mills
in 1895, Dr. Mateer was chosen pastor, and was
installed as such,—a position he was able to assume
because he had found in Mr. Hayes a substitute for
himself in the presidency of the college. He remained
pastor until he went with the college to Wei Hsien.
Dr. Hayes had already for years worked quietly
and efficiently in the school, under the presidency of
Dr. Mateer, and had shown himself to be a man of
exceptional ability and energy—a man after Dr.
Mateer’s own heart. After he assumed the presidency
Dr. Mateer was still to assist in the college,
but he was so often absent or otherwise engaged that
both the college and the preaching were largely in
the hands of Dr. Hayes.
According to the “Form of Government” of the
Presbyterian Church in the United States of America,
when a “call” is made out for a pastor it must be
certified to have been voted by a majority of the
people entitled to exercise this right; and it must
fill the blank in the following clause: “And that you
may be free from worldly cares and avocations, we
hereby promise and oblige ourselves to pay to you
the sum of ... in regular quarterly (or
half-yearly, or yearly) payments during the time of
your being and continuing the regular pastor of this
church.” In the settling of native pastors over the
Chinese churches scattered through the country,
the filling of that blank, and the actual subscription
of the funds needed for this and other expenses of
the organization, usually require the presence of a
missionary and of his earnest stimulation and guidance.
Sometimes the pledges are very liberal, if estimated
by ability of the members; and sometimes it is with
great difficulty that they are brought up to the measure
of their duty. The salaries, however, are almost
incredibly small, and even according to Chinese
standards are scarcely sufficient for a livelihood. We
need to keep this state of things in mind in order to
appreciate the amount that was inserted in the blank
in Dr. Mateer’s call to the pastorate of the Tengchow
church. In reporting the entire procedure to the
Board of Missions, he said: “The church in Tengchow
in calling me for their pastor promised a salary
of cash amounting to fifty dollars, which is to be used
to employ an evangelist whom I am to select and
direct.” Of course, he continued to receive his own
pay as a missionary from the funds of the Board.
The fifty dollars was probably a creditable amount,
as contributed by the native members out of their
narrow means; and as a salary for a native evangelist
it was at least a fair average.
When reporting this pastorate to the Board of
Missions, Dr. Mateer said, “This is work that I love
to do, especially the preaching.” When doing the
work of an evangelist among the people at large, sermonizing
could have no place. Even formal addresses
of any sort were rarely practicable. The best that
the missionary can do when itinerating is to get
attention by any legitimate means, and then to talk,
and hear and answer questions, and bear with all
sorts of irrelevancies and interruptions. But when a
church is organized, a sermon, consisting of a passage
of Scripture and a discourse built upon it, is just as
much in place as it is in one of our home houses of
worship on the Sabbath. It was to the opportunity
for that form of service that he refers when he expressed
his pleasure in the pastorate. In this also
he greatly excelled. Some who knew him most intimately,
and who appreciated fully his great worth
and efficiency, did not regard him as a very eloquent
preacher in an English pulpit. He commanded the
attention of his audience by his strong, clear, earnest
presentation of the great religious truths which he
believed with all his soul. The personality and consecration
of the man were a tremendous force when he
stood in a pulpit in his own land; what he lacked was
the ability which some speakers possess of carrying
his audience with him, almost irrespective of the
thoughts to which they give utterance. But in
preaching to the Chinese he took on an extraordinary
effectiveness. There was in the man, in the movement
of his thought, in his mastery of the language, in the
intense earnestness of his delivery, in the substance
of his sermons and addresses, much that captivated
the native Christians, and made others bow before
his power. Mr. Baller, who had heard him frequently,
says: “His sermons were logical, direct, a unit in
thought and enriched with a copious vocabulary and
illustrations. His points were usually put from the
Chinese point of view, so that a foreign air was conspicuously
absent.” To this day some of his addresses
are recalled as triumphs of real eloquence of speech;
perhaps the most notable of these being an address
which he delivered at the opening of the English
Baptist Institution at Tsinan fu, in 1907. It was an
opportunity such as never before had come to a
missionary in Shantung,—all the highest officials
of the province, and half-a-hundred others of lesser
degree, being present. He took as his theme “The
Importance of an Upright Character,” and more than
rose to the height of the occasion. One of his most
memorable sermons was delivered before a convention
of some three hundred women gathered at Wei Hsien
from the native church members of that region.
His ministry at Tengchow was fruitful of great
good in many ways. One of these was the growth
of the church by the conversion of the natives. Just
before he removed to Wei Hsien, he recorded the fact
that during all his pastorate there had not been one
of the quarterly communions at which there were no
additions. The beginning of his pastorate was signalized
by the accession of eighteen,—eight being
from the college and six from the girls’ school. Its
close was marked by an accession of twenty-six, of
whom twenty-one were baptized, the largest number
up to that date ever receiving that sacrament, at the
same time, in the Tengchow church. Only one was
from the college, all the rest having come in through
the labors of two associates in the station, Miss Snodgrass
and Dr. Seymour.
Just as soon as by evangelistic itineration and other
means converts were made in the neighboring region,
outside of Tengchow, it became necessary for the
missionaries to look after these scattered sheep in the
wilderness; and for a good while a large share of that
work fell to Dr. Mateer and his wife. In fact, it
had been partly through their labors, direct or indirect,
that these converts had been won, and therefore they
felt it especially a duty to care for their nurture.
That, of course, involved a large variety of efforts.
In the earlier years these frequently consisted in part
of interposition, so far as it was wise and practicable
to shield native Christians from gross wrongs to
which they were exposed. The hatred of the rulers
and of most of the people for foreigners and the
foreign religion was bitter. Even at Tengchow the
very tombstones in the little cemetery where the
missionaries buried their dead were repeatedly broken,—an
act regarded by the Chinese as the most gross
and cowardly insult that can be offered to a living
man; yet it was slow work to secure from the officials
protection, or justice as to the criminals. The case
of Miao, of Chow Yuen, a district capital situated
fifty miles to the southwest of Tengchow, is specially
notable. Early in 1869 the Mateers and Margaret
Brown, with a Chinese assistant, went to itinerate,
and on the way they visited him. When converted
out in his native district of Tsi Hea, he immediately
began to endeavor to win others to Christ. So he
sent word to his clansmen and friends that he had
important business with them, and invited them to
come to his house. This occurred while the missionaries
were there, and they witnessed what took
place at the gathering. Miao made a reception
speech, in which he said: “I have sent for you, and
you have come. I said nothing in my letter, but for
you to come, and that I had an important matter to
tell you. It is this: I have led you in serving the
Devil. There was nothing I would not dare to do, and
nothing that you would not care to follow me in doing.
I have now found something better. We have often
engaged in doubtful enterprises. I have now found
something that there is no doubt about: it is
thoroughly reliable, resting on the strongest possible
proof. I have left the service of the Devil, and I want
you to leave it. As I have led you in his service,
I want now to lead you out of it. I want to show you
the way and to present you to the true God. Examine
for yourselves; search to the bottom; and know
that I am not deceiving myself nor you. This doctrine
of Jesus is absolute and unmistakable truth.”
In writing of this, Dr. Mateer adds: “These words
were spoken with a fervor and an emphasis that
brought tears to my eyes. I thanked God for them,
while I prayed that they might not be in vain. Rice
was then brought, and this young Christian sat down
with his friends and asked a blessing,—the first they
had ever heard,—praying for them directly and
specifically. The whole village came to hear, with
many from neighboring villages. Save the time
occupied in eating, we preached to them nearly all
day, keeping it up till far into the night. The ladies
also had crowds to hear them all the time.” It was
not long until Miao, partly of himself and partly at
the instigation of other native Christians, came to
Chow Yuen, with the determination to establish
himself there as a preacher of his new faith. In
August of the same year the Mateers again visited
him, this time at his new place of residence, and did
what they could to help him in his chosen work.
His education and character were such as to promise
well. Following the usual custom of a Chinaman
when about to start a new enterprise, a feast was
made; some eighteen guests responded favorably to
invitations to be present, and at the close of the
entertainment a sort of meeting was held, and Dr.
Mateer made a brief statement of what Christianity
is, what was the nature of this enterprise, and what
was Miao’s relation to it. He told the audience that
the mission would pay the rental of a small chapel,
but that Miao would work gratuitously, except so
far as he might be assisted by the voluntary contributions
of his friends. All the Chinese present, with
the exception of two members from the Tengchow
church, were non-Christians, yet the guests subscribed
a sum sufficient to meet the expenses of the
feast and to leave a surplus to go toward the support
of the preacher. Some of his friends had already
promised to help to support him, and had presented
him with a fine signboard to hang in front of the room
he occupied as his chapel, and another for the back
of the stand where he stood when speaking. All
this was so exceptional and so hopeful that Dr.
Mateer came away rejoicing in this apparent readiness
even of the unevangelized to welcome the gospel. But
here begins quite another turn of the story. Miao
had continued but a few days at this work when a
couple of constables seized him and the man from
whom he had rented the room for a chapel, and
hurried them to the office of the magistrate. The
owner was accused of having rented a house to
“foreign devils,” and was forthwith beaten most
cruelly to the extent of two hundred blows. Miao
was then called, charged with evil doctrines and
practices, such as kneeling in prayer and calling on
unseen personages. In reply he rehearsed the chief
truths of the gospel, and in answer to a taunting
question, whether Jesus could suffer for him, he said
that he so believed. The magistrate ordered him to
be beaten fifty blows with the large bamboo and sent
him chained to prison. That evening he had a second
hearing, and the next morning he was marched off,
with a chain about his neck and his hands bound
together, thirty miles away to Tsi Hea, but comforting
himself in his weariness and suffering by singing
Christian hymns. The morning after his arrival
he was called before the magistrate and confronted
with charges forwarded from Chow Yuen—such as
being in league with foreign devils, using false pretense
of preaching religion, seducing the people by
artful works, being possessed of secret magical arts,
taking forcible possession of a house, influencing the
people to form combinations dangerous to the state,
and a whole rigmarole of offenses, big and little. He
was commanded to confess, and when he would not,
he was first beaten three hundred blows with the
small bamboo, and then he received a hundred more
in the face. The second day he was recalled, and
when he still would not confess he was again beaten.
The magistrate being especially searching in his
inquiry as to how Christians prayed, and as to what
they prayed for, Miao as the best explanation he
could give kneeled and prayed in his presence. At
this stage of the affair Dr. Mateer, having been informed
of the situation, arrived, and secured a promise
from the officer that he would go no further until he
heard from his superiors; and on his return to Tengchow
he reported the case to the American consul at
Chefoo, though with little hope that under the prevalent
policy of the American government anything
would be done. In an article in “The Presbyterian
Banner” he said: “I shall not soon forget my feelings
when I saw this Christian brother with a chain round
his neck and his body disfigured with bruises for the
gospel’s sake. I could not restrain the tears as I
looked him in the face. It is one thing to talk of
persecution a thousand miles away, and another to
see it face to face. I assured him of our sympathy
and unceasing prayers in his behalf, and that I would
do my utmost to rescue him.... Numbers of
the native Christians have boldly visited Miao in
prison, and some of them even prayed with him. All
have been stirred up to pray as never before, and made
to feel that their only hope is that God will interpose
on their behalf. This young Christian has been
guilty of no offense against the state. The charges
preferred by the officers are pure fabrications, the
inventions of malice and hatred to the truth, and
would never have been entertained by the officer
had he not been only too glad of a pretext to get the
Christians in his power.” So soon as possible Dr.
Mateer went to Chefoo to see the American consul,
and on his return home he learned that Miao had
been released, under some restrictions as to his whereabouts;
but no amends were made for the gross injustice
done.
There was still a long sequel to this affair. After
the period which has since intervened the story seems
to be unworthy of the dignity of a full recital here;
though it might be interesting to some as an example
of obstacles encountered by the work of missions away
from places where foreign influences are commonly
powerful enough to prevent them. A condensed
account must suffice. It should be remembered that
it was in August that the persecution of Miao occurred.
The purpose of it, at least in part, was to shut Christianity
out of Chow Yuen. To allow this would have
been to inflict on that cause a blow that probably
would encourage opposition of a like kind in other
localities; and therefore it evidently was the duty of
the missionaries to prevent it if practicable. Especially
was it true of Dr. Mateer that he was too
resolute a spirit to yield to such a violation of rights
secured under treaty with foreign governments. Consequently
late in November he went again to Chow
Yuen, in order to secure a house that could be used
as a chapel; for in the interval between these visits
the room previously occupied for this purpose had
gone into other hands and was no longer available.
The magistrate also had been promoted, and another
filled his place. Dr. Mateer soon found a house,
rented it, and secured the approval of the magistrate.
Then followed a series of chicanery, brutality, deceit,
low cunning, and petty meanness running over several
months, and compelling two more trips by him in the
dead of winter. Once he took with him two other
missionaries, and they went armed with pistols in
order to defend themselves if attacked. The old
woman who rented the room to him, and who in so
doing had been animated by ill will to her relatives
and by a desire for money, was seized and beaten
by members of her own family, and likewise by the
magistrate. The same gang beat the middleman
who, according to Chinese custom, had negotiated the
bargain. The whole rental was only about ten dollars.
Petty and miserable as the affair was, it had
its ludicrous features; as, for instance, when Dr.
Mateer, in his determination not to be ousted from
the house until some satisfactory arrangement was
made, picked up the old woman and set her down on
the outside, where she exhausted her strength in
billingsgate. It was not until the beginning of March
that the trouble at Chow Yuen was finally ended.
The issue was a triumph in the main for the missionary;
another acceptable room was, with the
official approval of the magistrate, secured for a
chapel, and the money that had been paid for the
rental of the other house was refunded. The best
of all was the fate that overtook the man who had
been the ringleader in the long series of wrongdoings
toward the representatives of Christianity. The
magistrate did his best to shield this fellow, but at
last he had to yield. He called the man into his
presence, and this is what was done, as related by Dr.
Mateer: “He was required to knock head to me;
and then I took him in hand, and though he tried to
evade, I compelled him to own up to his sin, and to
make a distinct promise of amendment; and then the
substance of what he said was put on record by the
clerk, and a copy was given me.” It all illustrates
what a determined man who has right on his side
may accomplish even in an out-of-the-way city in
China. It is characteristic of Dr. Mateer that in
one place in his Journal during this wearisome affair
he says that if it were not for his school he would go
to Chow Yuen, and stay there until a settlement is
reached. Perhaps in later years Dr. Mateer and his
associates would have regarded it as inexpedient to
go so far in the defense of a convert; but in those
earlier days this was a battle for toleration of Christianity,
and not a mere struggle to right the wrongs
of an individual convert.
Other incidents of the dark side to the work of
caring for the native Christians might be given, but
I have thought it best to turn chiefly to the brighter
phases of the subject. Of these there were many,
and they were of many kinds; but they were of so
unsensational a character as not now to be likely to
awaken much interest in the reader. They belong to
the day of small things for the gospel in China; but
let them not be despised; by and by they will be
treasured, if the record of them is preserved, as the
beginnings of the evangelization of Shantung. When
they occurred they brought the joy of approaching
harvest. For example, in connection with that last
trip out to Chow Yuen, Dr. Mateer wrote:
As it was Saturday, however, I felt I must try if
possible to get home, so that the Sabbath service
should not be neglected, when so many inquirers
were waiting to hear. I found not only the ten who
had come from Ping Tu, but some seven or eight
from other places. I had, of course, to commence
teaching them at once. I gave the half of each day
to them, and continued it without interruption for
three weeks. They gave diligent attention to the
business of learning. At the same time Mrs. Mateer
had a class of women who were seeking admission
to the church. Last week all who were considered
ready were examined by the session and passed upon.
Twenty were received,—fifteen men and five women.
They were all baptized together yesterday. It was
a new sight in Tengchow, to see such a number standing
up at once to profess the Lord Jesus Christ. I
hope that we are all grateful as we should be for such
a signal token of God’s presence with us. Our hearts
are enlarged to look for still greater things in the
future. Our schoolroom was packed to its utmost
capacity, so that when the twenty rose up to present
themselves for baptism, it was with great difficulty
that room could be made for them to stand. Let
us hope that the day of small things is past in this
part of China. Chinese officials may persecute us,
and foreign governments ignore us, but they cannot
restrain God’s Spirit. There are still a number of
inquirers.
In the earlier part of his missionary life he frequently
made trips of greater or less length to various places
in the province to help the native Christians by
organizing churches, assisting their pastors, holding
services, stimulating to work for the gospel, administering
the sacraments, and in every other available
manner forwarding the cause of Christianity. Hospitality
was gladly extended by the people; and it was
as gladly accepted, though not infrequently it introduced
to quarters that were odd and even uncanny.
Dr. Mateer described guest rooms in which he was
entertained, and which were a strange combination
of granary, receptacle for lumber, bedchamber and
“parlor,” crammed with all sorts of corresponding
articles, not excepting a coffin conspicuously displayed
in a corner. However, in his own home he lived
without ostentation; and on his journeys he did not
find it hard to adapt himself to the customs of his
native entertainers.
In later years, though for the most part he left
itinerations to the younger members of the mission,
yet he did not entirely discontinue them. In February,
1896, for instance, he wrote to the secretaries
of the Board of Missions:
Three weeks ago Mrs. Mateer and I returned from
a trip of seventeen days to the district of Lai Chow,
eighty miles distant. Our friends protested against
our taking such a trip in the winter and in our state
of health. We acted on our own judgment, however,
and went, and are benefited rather than otherwise.
The trip was exceedingly profitable. We confined
our visit to two stations, holding special services each
day—morning, afternoon and night. I received eight
to the church. At one station a new church was
organized, with twenty-six members, a branch from
the older station. At this older station there are
many inquirers, and the work is in a very hopeful
condition, very largely as the result of the influence
of a young man, an undergraduate of the college,
who has been there teaching a day school for three
years.
One of his last journeys of this sort was made not
long before his seventieth birthday, and the following
is his record concerning it:
From Tengchow we came overland to Wei Hsien
in shentzas. I made it a point to spend the Sabbath
at Lai Chow fu, and went out and preached morning
and afternoon to our little church at Ning Kie, which
is three miles from the city. Dr. Mills and I were
instrumental in founding the station some thirty-six
years ago. It has grown very slowly. Mrs. Mateer
had visited it frequently in subsequent years, and had
taught the women, and there are now a goodly proportion
of women in the church. In the earlier years
evangelists were sent to labor in the region, and to
preach to and teach the people. In those days opposition
to the gospel was very great, and progress was
very slow. In later years, owing to change of policy,
evangelists were not sent, save on an occasional visit,
and the church declined, though it still lived. A few
years ago special efforts were made, and the church
increased somewhat, and finally a native pastor was
settled over this church, in connection with another
about fifteen miles away. Before the expiration of
the first year the Boxer uprising brought the arrest
and beating of the pastor and much persecution to the
church. The pastor did not return. The church was
discouraged, and the pastor was called elsewhere.
If we now had an available man, he could be located
at Lai Chow fu; but there is no man.
His last country trip was made some time in December,
1907. This is the record: “Two weeks ago
I went down on the railroad to Kiaochow to assist
our native pastors in a meeting for the women. There
were about seventy there from various other stations,
besides those in town. The meeting was most interesting,
and must do a great deal of good. It was
projected and managed by the native pastors on
their own account. There were five native pastors
present, and helping in the meeting. Many women
spoke and some made set addresses.” There were
approximately one hundred and fifty present, many
of whom walked miles to be there. His own speech
was a plea to the mothers to consecrate their sons to
the ministry, and the tears ran down his cheeks as,
while making it, he spoke of his own mother.
The reader needs to bear in mind that Dr. Mateer
did not operate as an independent individual, but as
the agent of a thoroughly organized system, in conformity
with the government of the Presbyterian
Church and the regulations of the Board of Missions.
Of these agencies there is one that lies wholly outside
the constitutional provisions of the denomination, but
that is approved as a part of the machinery needed
for the foreign field. This is what is called the “mission.”
Its members are the missionaries sent out
by the Board and residing near enough to meet together
for the transaction of business. To the mission
belong such duties as to locate members and
appoint their work, to make annual estimates of
funds and reënforcements needed, to receive the money
from the Board, and to apply it, according to directions,
general or specific. Dr. Mateer had much to
do with inaugurating the “executive committees”
now so widely adopted by the missions. Many
questions affecting the operations sustained through
the Board, of necessity came before the annual
mission meeting for discussion and action. Lines
of policy as to conduct of the work out in the field,
if involving important features, are left for decision
to the Board; but full and frank consideration of
them by the members of the missions, either when in
session or as individuals, is usually welcomed.
An important discussion in which Dr. Nevius and
Dr. Mateer were especially conspicuous arose on their
field over a theory advanced by Dr. Nevius in his
“Methods of Missions.” It was no personal controversy,
though, of course, the respective personalities
of two such strong, positive, earnest men inevitably
tinged it. The question at issue mainly concerned
the pecuniary support of native Christians as agents
in the evangelization of their own people. No attempt
need here be made to state with fullness the positions
taken or the arguments employed. Broadly, the
policy advocated by Dr. Nevius was that the main
work of evangelization should be thrown on the native
Christians, and that those who could read and understand
“the doctrine” should voluntarily and without
compensation instruct those who could not; while
the foreign missionaries, paid as heretofore by the
Board, should give themselves to a general superintendence
and to periodical examinations of the
catechumens and scholars taught by the native church
members. Dr. Mateer was just as earnestly as Dr.
Nevius in favor of utilizing native Christians in the
evangelization of their people, and was just as eager
to develop among them self-support, but he was
thoroughly convinced that conditions were not ripe
in China for the radical policy of withholding from
native laborers, as a rule, all pay from the funds of
the Board; and that an attempt of this sort before
the proper time would result in serious disaster.
This brief statement will suffice to show that it was
a question over which wise and good men might
readily differ, and that the fact that they discussed it
earnestly and fully is a sign of healthy life. It seems
to me to be a problem that cannot be satisfactorily
solved by theoretical argument, or by votes in a
mission, or by even the decision of a board. The
only crucial test is actual trial. All that needs to be
said further as to this discussion is, on the one hand,
to emphasize the fact that Dr. Mateer, in his care
of the native Christians and churches, often labored
hard and long to bring up congregations, in the support
of their pastors and evangelists, to the measure
of giving for which they were able; and, on the other
hand, that he thought he saw in certain fields evidence
of the bad consequences of the policy he controverted.
Until it is desirable to organize the churches of a
given foreign missionary field, after the order prescribed
by the Presbyterian form of government,
the mission must continue in the entire supervision;
but it is the practice, just as soon as the way is open,
to set up presbyteries and synods, and to commit to
them those matters which belong to their jurisdiction.
In these bodies ruling elders, as the official lay representatives
of the native churches, and all the native
ordained ministers sit as the equals in authority with
the ordained foreign ministers. The Board, unless in
exceptional cases, has not been accustomed to turn
over to them the administration of the funds forwarded
for use on the field, or such matters as concern the
policy and plans it adopts; but all that pertains to
the organization of churches, the settlement of pastors,
the acceptance of candidates for the ministry
and their licensure and ordination, and the administration
of discipline for the ministers, with complaints
and appeals from the churches, is left to the presbytery.
Of course, as converts and churches and native
ministers increase, the tendency is to put them, as
the majority, in control in these bodies. It is a system
which opens the way for some dangers; nevertheless
it is, in the nature of the situation, the only course to
pursue, and unless abused, it has a most wholesome
influence on the native Christians. It brings home
to them the fact that, equally with the foreigners who
have given them the gospel, they have privileges as
members of the church of Christ, and also their
responsibility as such. Dr. Mateer believed with all
his heart in the setting up of these regular ecclesiastical
bodies so soon as possible. Late in November, 1865,
he was one of the little band who organized the
Presbytery of Shantung, at a meeting held at Chefoo,
when as yet there were no native ministers to take
part. The next meeting was held the following
October at Tengchow, and he was elected moderator
and stated clerk. It is evident that if a presbytery
is to be of any considerable value to a native member
the language used must be his own, not that of the
foreign missionary. With this understanding, the
following from Dr. Mateer’s Journal concerning that
meeting can be better appreciated: “It was voted
that hereafter all the proceedings be in Chinese, and
at it we went. It was very awkward at first, making
and putting motions, but after some practice we got
along better. We had a very pleasant meeting
indeed. One of the chief items of business was a
call presented by the native church for Mr. Mills,
which he accepted, and we arranged for his installation.”
It was ten years before such progress had been made
out in the province that it was practicable to hold a
presbytery in the rural regions. In a letter to his
mother, dated December 24, 1877, Dr. Mateer said:
“The meeting of the presbytery in the country marks
an era in our progress in Shantung. Many of the
Christians from all the region were assembled, and
evidently got much good from what they saw and
heard. Our presbytery is getting to be an important
event, and a power among the native churches. Our
desire is that it may be more and more felt.” Sometimes
the meetings were saddened by the cases of
discipline, after a native ministry began to be enrolled;
but if the case demanded it, even deposition from the
sacred office and excommunication from the church
were imposed, and the native elders and ministers
were sturdy supporters of adequate sentences. In
contrast with this was the joy of receiving candidates
for the ministry, and sending them out to preach the
gospel as they seemed to be ready for that work.
Occasionally a man up in years, and without thorough
education, but apparently qualified to be effective
as a preacher, is authorized by the presbytery to
“exercise his gifts”; but usually those who offer
themselves are young men who after long courses of
study, and careful examination, are sent on this errand.
For instance, in his report for 1874 as stated clerk,
Dr. Mateer said:
Considerable time was taken up in the presbytery
by the examination of candidates for the ministry.
These were thorough, and so far as they went were
sustained with great credit. One candidate was
licensed to preach. He is not young, as licentiates
usually are, being about sixty. He is, however, full
of zeal for God, and may yet do good service. One
of our licentiates was ordained as an evangelist. This
is the first native preacher who has been ordained
by this presbytery. It marks a new step in our work,
one for which we are devoutly thankful to God. We
have no more important work to do than to raise
up well-qualified natives to preach the gospel to their
countrymen. We trust this one will soon be followed
by others.
Dr. Mateer was careful to treat the native elders
and ministers as the equals of the foreign missionaries,
in the ecclesiastical bodies and elsewhere; and as a
consequence he commanded their confidence, so that
he was able sometimes to render important services
by healing threatened dissensions. This, as might
be supposed, was especially true of his own “boys,”
who had as students learned to revere both his judgment
and his fraternal spirit.
In writing to “The Presbyterian Banner” concerning
the meeting of the Presbytery of Shantung, in
September, 1869, he said: “The matter of the formation
of a synod in China was discussed, and a circular
letter was prepared, and ordered to be sent to the
other presbyteries urging the propriety of such a
step at once. It is now twenty years since the
General Assembly took action looking toward and
opening the way for the formation of this synod.”
That body held its first meeting at Shanghai in October
of the following year. The synod in the Presbyterian
system is the next higher organization above
the presbytery, and consists of all the ordained ministers
of a larger district already containing three or
more presbyteries, and of ruling elders representing
the churches; or it may be constituted from delegates
appointed by the presbyteries on a fixed basis. It
has the right to review all presbyterial action, and
also has authority to originate measures within its
constitutional jurisdiction. Among the missionaries
in China at that time there was a considerable number
who regarded the synod as a sort of fifth wheel
to the coach, and as not likely to be capable of rendering
a service worth its cost in money and time. Under
indirect form this phase of the subject came into
warm and protracted debate in that first meeting,
and may be said to have been fought out to a settlement.
Dr. Mateer was a strong believer in the importance
of the synod, and in debate, and in other
ways, he threw the whole weight of his influence
avowedly on that side of the issue, and helped to win.
Other problems were of such a character as also to
arouse his interest to a high degree. Ought the
language used in the body to be limited to the Mandarin
or ought it to include local dialects? On this
question, of course, he stood for the Mandarin.
Ought a theological institution to be established;
and if so, where? As to this, a sort of compromise
was effected, and an appeal was sent home for a
share in the “Memorial Fund,” to establish in China
one or more such schools, but leaving location to be
determined later. The synod consisted of twenty-four
members, ten of them being foreign missionaries,
and fourteen native pastors and elders. The proceedings
had to be translated, during the various
sessions, into several different dialects, in order to be
made intelligible to all. The body sat for ten days,
and then adjourned to assemble the next year at
Ningpo. It was in connection with Dr. Mateer’s
attendance at Shanghai that he was induced to take
temporary charge of the mission press.
The second meeting of the synod was held at
Ningpo. Dr. Mateer was chosen moderator. Writing
in his Journal concerning that meeting, he said:
The great difficulty of the synod was the language,
and this was indeed no small embarrassment. As I
was moderator, I felt it more than any other. It was
all I could do to tell what was going on at times. If
it had not been for the practice I had through the
summer in Shanghai, I should have been quite lost.
The most interesting discussion we had was on the
qualifications of candidates for the ministry. The
native members insisted that they must learn English,
and the foreign members opposed. The native
brethren finally carried their point. The discussion
at some points of its progress was really exciting, and
not a little amusing.
The next meeting was held at Chefoo, and as the
retiring moderator he preached the opening sermon.
In his Journal he says: “I had prepared the sermon
quite carefully, having written it all out, and so had
to read it. It is the only sermon I ever wrote out
fully in Chinese. I found reading a Chinese sermon
very awkward and embarrassing.” A committee of
which he was a member had been appointed by the
preceding meeting at Ningpo to prepare for deliberative
bodies a compendium of technical terms,—for
the lack of which in Chinese they had been seriously
hindered,—and also to formulate rules of order. They
made a report which was approved, and authorized for
use in the synod and in the presbyteries.
One other excerpt from the records of his pen must
conclude the story of his work in the synod, though it
was continued down through his subsequent years.
He said:
Delegates, officially deputed, were present from the
mission of the Presbyterian Church South; also from
the mission of the United Presbyterian Church in
Scotland; and from the independent Presbytery of
Amoy, composed of the missions of the American
Dutch Reformed and the English Presbyterian
Churches combined. They all expressed a desire
for mutual coöperation, and for the ultimate union
of all the Presbyterians in China into one Chinese
Presbyterian Church. A committee was appointed
to correspond with the various Presbyterian bodies
or missions in China, and prepare the way for an ultimate
union. This union may not be accomplished
for many years, but that it should come as soon as
practicable seems to be the almost unanimous opinion
of all concerned.
In 1907 one long advance was made toward the
realization of the desire so earnestly expressed by that
synod a third of a century before. After preliminary
consultations extending over a number of years,
representatives of eight distinct missions, operated
by as many different Presbyterian denominations
of Europe and America, met together, and constituted
“The Presbyterian Church of China,” and also offered
a welcome to any other Chinese churches of like faith
and practice to unite with them. Dr. Mateer thought
that on account of the size of China and the consequent
expense of travel and variety of speech, it
would be better to make two ecclesiastical bodies
out of this material. Belonging to the new organization,
there were, besides the foreign missionaries,
about a hundred native ministers, and forty thousand
communicants. Dr. Mateer was not a member of
the body which met to declare and organize this
union; but, being present, he was invited to sit as
a corresponding member. Under the regulations of
his American denomination, the names of ordained
foreign missionaries entering such new churches on
the foreign field as that just mentioned are enrolled
in the minutes of the home General Assembly on a
separate list; and these ministers are entitled to be
received by the presbyteries without the examination
required of those who come from other denominations
in foreign countries. This was the ecclesiastical
status of Dr. Mateer when he died. He was a
member of the Presbyterian Church in China; but he
was still enrolled by the church of his fathers.
The highest of all the organizations within the
Presbyterian system is the General Assembly. Its
supervision, within constitutional limits, extends over
synods, presbyteries, and individual ministers and
churches, and it has other distinct functions pertaining
to the entire denomination throughout the world.
Dr. Mateer was a commissioner from his presbytery
in China to the Assembly which met in 1880 in New
York; and again to the Assembly which met in Los
Angeles in 1903. In this last he was nominated for
moderator, but failed of election, for reasons not in
any way disparaging to him. It is well understood
that an election to that office is contingent on so many
incidental things that the choice can seldom be foreseen.
Local influences at Los Angeles were strongly
thrown in favor of the successful candidate, meaning
by these the representation in the Assembly and the
Presbyterian visitors from all the Rocky Mountain
country and from the Pacific coast. Besides, to
many of the commissioners Dr. Mateer was a man but
slightly known. His work had been great, but it
had also been quiet. Nor when on his furloughs had
he in speaking to the churches won renown by bursts
of missionary eloquence. He made a very creditable
run for the moderatorship, and was beaten by a man
of high standing in the church. He was appointed
chairman of the Judicial Committee.
XI THE SHANTUNG COLLEGE
“While I live I cannot cease to have a vital interest in the
college.... I cannot bear to be wholly away from the
college to which my life has been given.”—LETTER TO SECRETARY
BROWN, April 10, 1907.
The change of the name of the school which
Dr. Mateer had founded and nurtured for
nearly two decades was made at the formal
request of the members of the Shantung Presbyterian
Mission, sent to the Board under date of February
14, 1881. It was accompanied by a “plan,” and
that part of the paper was as follows:
I. That the Tengchow Boys’ High School be organized
into and constituted a college, to be called
“The College of Shantung.”
II. That it be carried on and governed by a board
of six trustees nominated by the Shantung Mission,
and confirmed by the Board of Foreign Missions.
III. That the college embrace a six years’ course
of study in Chinese classics, general science, and
Christian ethics; including particularly “The Four
Books” and “Five Classics,” Chinese history, with
Biblical and general history, mathematics, physical,
mental and moral sciences, evidences of Christianity,
and so forth.
IV. That the aim of the college be to educate thoroughly
both in Chinese and western learning; and
to do this from the standpoint and under the influence
of Christianity.
V. That the Chinese language be the medium of
instruction throughout the course, English being
taught only as an extra in special cases.
VI. That there be connected with the college a
department to prepare pupils to enter it.
VII. That it be the ultimate design to make the
students attending the college self-supporting; and
that in order to do this the style of living be strictly
on the Chinese plane; and that natives be trained as
fast as possible to man the college with efficient
professors.
VIII. That the college be located for the present
at Tengchow, leaving open the question of its removal
to a more central position at some future time.
For this request the main reasons were added
in extenso. They are too long to be given here; but
they can be, in the main, compressed into two general
statements. One of these was the need of a high-grade
institution of this sort in northern China, and
especially in the great province of Shantung. It
was conceded that Tengchow was not as central a
location as the college might ultimately require;
but, being a literary city and a treaty port, and as
yet free from the special temptations and corrupting
influences of a mixed foreign population, it at least
temporarily had marked advantages. The other
general statement is that the institution was already
in fact a college by reason of its curriculum, and was
equipped with buildings and outfit suitable for the
advanced work which a college ought to do. In order
that it might retain the position it had won, and in
order to secure endowment and reputation, the new
name was very desirable.
In a letter dated April 4, 1885, the mission appealed
to the Board for a new house to be built for the
accommodation of the chief foreign assistant in the
college, and incidentally gave a statement as to the
plant. They said: “At a remarkably small cost to
the Board it has come into possession of plain but
extensive premises, which are very well adapted to
the purpose. With the small additions and changes
proposed for the current year it will have good
boarding and dormitory accommodations for eighty
or ninety pupils, with roomy yards and courts. It
has also two large schoolrooms, three recitation
rooms, one large lecture room, a philosophical apparatus
room, a chemical apparatus room with a
shop and storeroom. It has also a substantial
stone observatory, costing one hundred and sixty
dollars.” In 1894, a grant for new buildings having
been made by the Board, steps looking to their erection
were taken. Writing of these, March 23, 1895,
Dr. Mateer said, “We staked off the ground to-day,
and will make a start at once.” That year, however,
on account of his duties on the committee for the
revision of the Mandarin translation of the Scriptures,
he laid down the presidency of the college,
though he did not cease to assist in the instruction
and in the management of it. February 8, 1896,
he wrote to the Board: “The headship of the college
is now in Mr. Hayes’s hands, and with it the major
part of the work. I am especially thankful that the
interests of the college are in the hands of a capable
man; nevertheless, when I am in Tengchow a considerable
share of the general responsibility still
clings to me, and no inconsiderable share of the work,
and Mrs. Mateer’s share is in nowise decreased.
Our new buildings are finished, and are an unspeakable
convenience. The wonder is how we did without
them so long. They have served to raise our college
in the estimate of the people of the whole city.”
These new buildings consisted of a main edifice of
two stories, dormitories, and chemical laboratory.
The old temple structure was converted into a chapel
and various alterations were made as to uses of the
smaller houses. The original estimate of the outlay
was eight thousand dollars. Whether this sum was
sufficient is not stated in any of the records that have
come into my hands; but inasmuch as nothing is
said about a deficit, it is probable that there was
none, except such as Dr. Mateer and others on the
ground met out of their own pockets. The new
buildings were supplied with steam heat and electric
light from a house specially fitted for the purpose,
with a tall chimney that seemed as if a landmark for
all the region; and some other additions were subsequently
made by means of special contributions.
Taken altogether, the plant, into the possession of
which the Tengchow College eventually came, though
consisting largely of houses that were externally without
architectural pretension, and in part of the Chinese
order and somewhat inadequate, was extensive enough
to indicate the magnitude of the work the institution
was doing.
One of the things on which the members of the
mission laid stress in their request for the elevation
of the school to the rank and title of a college was
that it already had “a good collection of philosophical
and chemical apparatus, believed to be the largest
and best-assorted collection in China.” Dr. Mateer
also was accustomed to speak of this apparatus
with a pride that was an expression, not of vanity,
but of satisfaction in a personal achievement, that
was eminently worth while. For instance, in his
letter to his college classmates in 1897, he said:
“I have given some time and considerable thought
and money to the making of philosophical apparatus.
I had a natural taste in this direction, and I saw
that in China the thing to push in education was
physical science. We now have as good an outfit
of apparatus as the average college in the United
States,—more than twice as much as Jefferson had
when we graduated; two-thirds of it made on the
ground at my own expense.” It was a slow, long
job to produce it. Early in his career as a teacher
in the Tengchow school he had little need of apparatus
because the pupils were not of a grade to receive
instruction in physics; but it was not very long
until he recorded his difficulty, for instance, in teaching
pneumatics without an air pump. Some of his
instruction at that general period was given to a
class of students for the ministry. He was always
careful to let it be known that his school was in
no degree a theological seminary; he held it to be
vital to have it understood that it was an institution
for what we would call secular instruction, though
saturated through and through with Christianity.
But again and again throughout his life he took his
share in teaching native candidates for the ministry;
and before the college proper afforded them opportunity
to study western science he was accustomed
to initiate these young men into enough knowledge
of the workings of nature to fit them to be better
leaders among their own people. Thus, writing in
his Journal, February, 1874, concerning his work with
the theological class that winter, he said:
I heard them a lesson every day,—one day in
philosophy [physics] and the next in chemistry. I
went thus over optics and mechanics, and reviewed
electricity, and went through the volume on chemistry.
I practically gave all my time to the business of
teaching and experimenting, and getting apparatus.
I had carpenters and tinners at work a good part of
the time. I got up most of the things needed for
illustrating mechanics, and a number in optics;
also completed my set of fixtures for frictional electricity,
and added a good number of articles to my
set of galvanic apparatus. With my new battery
I showed the electrical light and the deflagration of
metals very well. The Ruhmkorff coil performed
very well indeed, and made a fine display. I had
an exhibition of two nights with the magic lantern,
using the oxyhydrogen light. In chemistry I made all
the gases and more than are described in the book,
and experimented on them fully. They gave me
no small amount of trouble, but I succeeded with
them all very well. I made both light and heavy
carbureted hydrogen, and experimented with them.
Then I made coal gas enough to light up the room
through the whole evening. Altogether I have made
for the students a fuller course of experiments in
philosophy or chemistry than I saw myself. They
studied well and appreciated very much what they
saw. I trust the issue will prove that my time
has not been misspent. I have learned a great
deal myself, especially in the practical part of experiment-making.
It may be that I may yet have
occasion to turn this knowledge to good account.
I have also gathered in all a very good set of apparatus,
which I shall try to make further use of.
It was in this way that the collection was begun.
As he added to it in succeeding years, every piece
had a history that lent it an individual interest.
Much of it continued to be produced by his own
hand, or at least under his own superintendence,
and at the expense of himself, or of his friends, who
at his solicitation contributed money for this use.
Some of the larger and more costly articles were
donated by people to whom he appealed for help,
and therefore peculiar personal associations clustered
about them. For instance, when home on his first furlough,
he met Cyrus W. Field, on a voyage to Europe,
and interested him in the Tengchow School. After
reaching China again, he wrote a letter to Mr. Field
and solicited from him the gift of a dynamo. In
the course of some months a favorable response was
received; and, eventually, that dynamo rendered
most valuable service in lighting the buildings. Two
friends, whose acquaintance he had made in the
United States,—Mr. Stuart, of New York, and Mrs.
Baird, of Philadelphia,—gave him money to buy a
ten-inch reflecting telescope, with proper mountings
and accompaniments; and when, as so often happens
in such matters, there was a considerable deficit,
his “Uncle John” came to the relief. In ordering
through an acquaintance a set of telegraph instruments
he explained that the Board was not furnishing
the means to pay for it, but that it was purchased
with his own money, supplemented by the
gifts of certain friends of missions and education.
This must suffice as to the history of that collection
of apparatus. It is, however, enough to show why
he had so much pride in it.
It was in 1895 that he laid down the headship
of the college. He took this step all the more readily
because in his successor, Rev. W. M. Hayes,
now of Tsingchow fu, he had entire confidence as
to both character and ability. On his arrival in
China Mr. Hayes was immediately associated with
Dr. Mateer in the school, and showed himself to be
a thoroughly kindred spirit. He continued at the
head of the college until 1901, when he resigned
his position in order to start for the governor of the
province a new college at Tsinan fu. It may not
be out of place to add here that the governor at that
time was Yuan Shih K’ai, a man of large and
liberal views, and that there was, as to the new college
he was founding, in the requirements nothing that
made it improper for a Christian and a minister of
the gospel to be at the head of it. It is due to
Mr. Hayes to say that in accepting this position
he was confident that he had the approval of nearly
all the missionaries associated with him. However,
it was not very long until Yuan was transferred to
the viceroyalty of the province of Chi-li, which
dominates Peking, and a successor took his place
in Shantung, who was of a different mind, and who
introduced such usages into the new institution that
Mr. Hayes felt conscientiously bound to lay down
his office. He is now one of the instructors in the
theological department of the Shantung Christian
University, into which the college at Tengchow has
been merged.
In the request of the members of the mission for
the elevation of the Tengchow school to the rank
and title of a college one of the articles specifically
left the ultimate location of the institution an open
question. The main objection to Tengchow was
its isolation. It is away up on the coast of the
peninsula that constitutes the eastern end of the
province, and it is cut off from the interior by a
range of rather rugged hills in the rear. Though a
treaty port, its commerce by sea has long been inconsiderable,
and gives no promise of increase. At
the time when that request was made, it is likely
that some, though signing, would have preferred
that the college should be removed down to Chefoo.
To any project of that sort Dr. Mateer was inflexibly,
and with good reason, opposed; and it never assumed
such strength as to give him much apprehension.
Along in the later “eighties” and in the early “nineties”
the question of location again arose in connection
with the Anglo-Chinese college which Dr. A.
P. Happer, of the Presbyterian missions in China,
undertook to found. He progressed so far as to raise
a considerable sum of money for endowment and had
a board appointed for the control. The project at
no stage received the hearty support of Dr. Mateer,
though, of course, so long as it did not threaten hurt
to his own college or the ideas which it represented
he did not make any fight against it. Dr. Happer
had long been a missionary in southern China, and
was beyond question earnestly devoted to his work;
his idea was that by means of the Anglo-Chinese
college he would raise up an efficient native ministry
for the churches. The conviction of Dr. Mateer
was that, so far as this result is concerned, the institution,
by the very nature of the plan, must be
a comparative failure. English was to be given a
large place in the curriculum, and for students it
was to draw especially on such as could pay their
own way. In a long letter dated March 18, 1887,
called out by the question of the location of the
proposed college, and signed by Dr. Mateer and
Mr. Hayes, they frankly expressed to one of the
secretaries of the Board their reasons for believing so
strongly that an institution conducted on the plan
proposed could not realize the main object which
its founder sought. They had found it necessary
years before, in the Tengchow College, to meet the
question as to the introduction of English, and the
decision was in favor of using Chinese alone in the
curriculum; and so long as the school remained in charge
of Mateer and Hayes, they rigidly excluded their own
native tongue. When the Tengchow school was
just emerging into the Tengchow College, Dr. Mateer
thus expressed his convictions on that subject:
If we should teach English, and on this account
seek the patronage of the officers and the rich, no
doubt we could get some help and countenance. We
would be compelled, however, to give up in good
measure the distinctively religious character of the
school. We would get a different class of pupils,
and the religious tone of the school would soon be
changed in spite of us. Another result would also
be almost inevitable, namely, the standard of Chinese
scholarship would fall. The study of English is
fatal to high acquisition in the Chinese classics. We
would doubtless have great trouble in keeping our
pupils after they were able to talk English; they
would at once go seeking employment where their
English would bring them good wages. Tengchow,
moreover, is not a port of foreign residents, but
rather an isolated and inland city, and it would not
be a good place to locate a school in which teaching
English is made a prominent feature.
His observation since had served to confirm him
in the conviction of years before, and in the letter to
a secretary of the Board, Hayes united with him
in stating clearly and forcibly their joint opinion on
the subject.
In casting about for a location for the Anglo-Chinese
college, the choice narrowed down so that
it lay between Canton, Nanking, Shanghai, and
Tientsin. Chefoo was mentioned, but not seriously
considered, yet even the possibility of location there,
although remote, was so important a matter to the
Shantung College that it compelled the men at the
head of that institution to be on the alert so long
as the question was undetermined. By and by Dr.
Happer became disposed to turn over the management
of his projected college to some other person,
and he wrote to Dr. Mateer, sounding him as to the
vacancy, should it occur. The scheme at that time
seemed to be to locate the new institution at Shanghai,
and to unite with it the Shantung College; and
in a long letter in response, written January 9, 1890,
Dr. Mateer went very candidly over the entire situation.
Among other things he said:
It will be necessary, however, to settle the policy of
the college, and also its headship, before making
any definite move. Whoever undertakes to make
English and self-support prominent features, and
then aims at a Christian college, has, as things are
at present in China, a difficult contract on his hands.
I for one do not feel called to embark in such an enterprise,
and my name may as well be counted out....
Nor can the school at Tengchow be moved away from
Shantung. We might go, and the apparatus might
be moved; but not the pupils. It is futile to talk
of them or any considerable number of them coming
to Shanghai; nor will pupils go from central China
north to be educated save in exceptional cases.
The distance and the expense are both too great.
Each section of China must have its own schools.
Not long afterward the situation was such that
Dr. Mateer and Mr. Hayes addressed to the trustees
of the endowment a paper in which a suggestion
was made that under certain conditions the fund
raised by Dr. Happer should be turned over to the
Shantung College. In that paper there was a frank
statement of their attitude as to English. They were
entirely willing to introduce that language, but
only under such conditions that it could not seriously
alter the character and work of the institution.
The paper is too long for introduction here. It
will suffice to quote from a letter sent by Dr. Mateer
at the same time to one of the secretaries of the
Board, and dated February 9, 1891:
There are one or two things I want to say in a
less formal way. One is that in case our proposition
in regard to English is not satisfactory, you will
take care that the proposed school is not located in
Chefoo as a rival of the college in Tengchow. It
would be nothing short of suicidal for the Board to
allow such a proceeding, and would be a great wrong,
both to myself and to Mr. Hayes. We do not propose
to engage in such a contest, but would at once resign,
and seek some other sphere of labor. Again, I wish
to call your attention to what is the real inwardness
of our plan for English; namely, to teach it in such
a way, and to such parties only, as will insure its
being used in literary and scientific lines. We will
not teach English merely to anyone, nor teach it
to anyone who wants merely English. We will
teach it to men, not to boys. Lastly, Mr. Hayes
and I have for several years had in mind the idea of
a post-graduate course in applied science, and have
been waiting for my visit home to push it forward;
and even if the present endowment scheme fails, we
will still feel like pushing it, and introducing some
English as already indicated.
Nothing came of the suggestion that the money
should be turned over to the Shantung institution.
Dr. Mateer still continued to help in the college
at Tengchow, as he had time and opportunity. Early
in the “nineties,” and after the movement just considered
had failed to materialize, he solicited from
the Board the privilege of seeking to raise an endowment
fund, but at that time he was unable to
secure their consent. At the beginning of 1900
the Board changed their attitude, and authorized
an effort to be made to secure contributions for this
purpose. Of course, in order to be successful in
this undertaking, a satisfactory plan for the control
of the college was a necessity; and as to this Dr.
Mateer was consulted, and he gave his opinions
freely. His preference was expressed for a charter
giving the endowment a separate legal status, but
providing that the members of the Board of Foreign
Missions, acting in this distinct capacity, should
be the trustees. The general oversight of the institution
he thought should be assigned to a “Field
Board of Directors,” composed of members of the
Shantung Mission. This was not a scheme that
entirely satisfied him. The specter, on the one
hand, of a diversion of the college into a school for
teaching English, and, on the other, of making it
a theological seminary, would not altogether down;
but in the ultimate appeal to the members of the
Board of Foreign Missions he recognized a safeguard
that was not likely to prove inadequate. When he
was on furlough in 1903, he spent a considerable
part of his time in soliciting permanent funds for
the college, then already removed to its present
location; but he was unable to secure much aid.
Ada was with him; and she says of his experience
in this work, “He was so accustomed to success
in whatever he undertook that it was hard for him
to bear the indifference of the rich to what seemed
to him so important.”
The transfer of the college to another location was
a question that would not permanently rest. So
long as it was whether it should go from Tengchow
to Chefoo, or be swallowed up in another more pretentious
institution at Shanghai, and not yet in
existence, it was comparatively easy to silence the
guns of those who talked removal. But at the
opening of the twentieth century, even out there in
north China, important changes indirectly affecting
this problem had occurred. The missions had been
strengthened by a number of new men, who came
fresh from the rush of affairs in the United States,
and eager to put their force into the work in China in
such a way that it would tell the most. Even China
itself was beginning to awake from the torpor of
ages. In Shantung the Germans were building railroads,
one of them right through the heart of the
province, on by way of Wei Hsien to the capital,
and from that point to be afterward connected
with Tientsin and Peking. It is not strange that,
under the new conditions, the young members of
the mission especially should desire to place the college
which loomed up so largely and effectually in the
work to which they had consecrated their lives where
it could be in closer touch with the swarming millions
of the land and with the movements of the new
times. February 26, 1901, Dr. Mateer wrote to
the Board:
At a meeting of the Shantung Mission it was voted
to remove the Tengchow College to Wei Hsien, and
then give up the Tengchow station. Being at
Shanghai, engaged in the translation work, I was
not able to be present at the mission meeting, and
it seems incumbent on me to say something on a
matter of so much importance, and that concerns
me so much.... First, with reference to the
college. The major part of my life has been given to
building up the Tengchow College, and, of course,
I feel a deep interest in its future. As you can easily
imagine, I am naturally loath to see it moved from
the place where Providence placed it; and to see all
the toil and thought given to fitting up the buildings,
with heating, lighting, and the other appliances go
for nothing; as also the loss of the very considerable
sums of money I have myself invested in it. The
Providence which placed the college in Tengchow
should not be lightly ignored, nor the natural advantages
which Tengchow affords be counted for nothing.
It is not difficult to make out a strong case for Wei
Hsien, and I am not disposed to dispute its advantages,
except it be to question the validity of the
assumption that a busy commercial center is necessarily
the best place to locate a college. In view of
the whole question, it seems to me that unless an
adequate endowment can be secured—one which
will put the college on a new basis—it will not pay
the Board to make the sacrifice involved in moving
the college to Wei Hsien.... However, I would
rather go to Wei Hsien than be opposed strongly
at Tengchow.
On that part of his contention he lost; and it
would be useless now to try to ascertain the respective
merits of the two sides to that question. The second
part of the letter just cited discussed the abandonment
of Tengchow as a mission station. The plan of those
who took the affirmative of this debate was to leave
that city to the Southern Baptists, who almost
forty years before had preceded the Presbyterians
a few weeks in a feeble occupation, but who had been
entirely overshadowed by the development of the
college. For the retention of the station Dr. Mateer
pleaded with his utmost fervor and eloquence.
Though the decision remained in uncertainty while
he lived, and the uncertainty gave him much anxiety,
large gifts, coming since, from a consecrated layman,
have rendered the retention of the Tengchow station
secure. The wisdom of the decision is vindicated
by present conditions. At the close of 1909 the
station reported a city church with three hundred
members; a Sabbath school which sometimes numbers
five hundred pupils; thirty out-stations with about
five hundred members; twenty-four primary schools,
giving instruction to three hundred and sixteen
boys and girls, and taught by graduates of the higher
schools of the station; a girls’ high school with an
average enrollment of forty-six pupils, and for the
year then closing having twelve graduates, nearly
all of whom became teachers; a boys’ high school
with an attendance of forty, and sending up a number
of graduates to the college at Wei Hsien or to other
advanced institutions, and having a normal department
with a model primary department; and also a
helpers’ summer school; besides other machinery
for reaching with the gospel the three millions of
people gathered in the neighborhood of Tengchow.
Nor has the work of the Presbyterians in the least
hampered that of the Southern Baptists.
The actual removal of the college was not effected
until the autumn of 1904. In the interval between
the time when it was determined to take this step
and when it was actually accomplished a number of
important things affecting the course of Dr. Mateer’s
life occurred. Mr. Hayes, as elsewhere stated, resigned
the presidency; and Rev. Paul D. Bergen,
who had come out to the mission in 1883, was chosen
in his place. Dr. Mateer had been so closely associated
with Mr. Hayes, and had such complete confidence
in him, that the resignation came almost like
a personal bereavement; but he rose nobly out of
the depths, and wrote home to the Board: “Mr.
Bergen is clearly the best man that our missions in
Shantung afford for the place. He is very popular
with the Chinese, which is much in his favor. The
time is as auspicious as it is important. Educational
affairs are taking a great boom, and it looks as if
Shantung was going to lead the van. If it is properly
supported the college should do a great work.”
During the interval here covered Dr. Mateer came to
the United States on his third and last furlough,
reaching China again in the autumn of 1903, and
bringing with him some substantial fruits of his
efforts for the college.
On his arrival he was confronted by another great
problem as to the institution. A combination had
already been almost effected by the American Presbyterians
and the English Baptists in Shantung for
a union in the work of higher education in the province.
The matter had already gone so far that,
although he feared that the scheme would bring
about such radical changes as to endanger the real
usefulness of the institution, yet he made no serious
opposition, and it went steadily forward to consummation.
Under the plan adopted the Shantung
Christian University was established; and provision
was made for a joint maintenance of three distinct
colleges in it, each at a different location, chosen
because of mission and other conditions—a college of
arts and science at Wei Hsien, a theological college
at Tsingchow fu, and a medical college at Tsinan fu.
The plan also provides for a university council, to
which is committed the general control of the institution,
subject, of course, to certain fundamental
regulations; and of this body Dr. Mateer was one
of the original members. The first meeting was
held at Tsingchow fu near the end of 1903. Writing
to one of the secretaries of the Board of Missions
concerning this, he said: “All were present. Our
meeting was quite harmonious. We elected professors
and discussed and drew out some general
principles relating to the curriculum and the general
management. Theoretically things seem quite promising;
the difficulty will come in practical administration.
The buildings at Wei Hsien are all up
to the first floor. There should be no difficulty in
getting all ready by next autumn, at which time the
college ought by all means to be moved.” Early the
next summer he wrote: “I started to Wei Hsien
about a month ago, overland. I spent over two
weeks taking down and packing my goods, and so
forth, including workshop, boiler, engine, dynamo,
and so forth. I found it quite a serious undertaking
to get all my miscellaneous goods packed up, ready
for shipment on boats to Wei Hsien.... I
remained in Wei Hsien twenty-four days, unpacking
my effects, getting my workshop in order, and
planning for the heating and lighting outfit.” In
the same letter he expressed himself as follows concerning
the theological college at Tsingchow fu:
“It was certainly understood at the meeting of
the directors last winter that it was to be much
more than a theological seminary in the strict sense
of the word. It was understood, in fact, that it
would have two departments,—a training school
and a theological seminary proper. In this way
only can the full measure of our needs be supplied....
With this organization it is not unlikely
that the school at Tsingchow fu will be larger than the
college at Wei Hsien.”
This narrative as to Dr. Mateer and the Shantung
College is now approaching its close, and most readers
probably will prefer that, so far as practicable, the
remainder of it shall be told in his own words.
December 21, 1904, he wrote to a friend: “The
college is now fully moved to Wei Hsien, and has in
it about a hundred and twenty students. The new
buildings are quite fine,—much superior to those we
had in Tengchow. Mrs. Mateer and I have moved
to Wei Hsien to live and will make this our home.
We are living in the same house with my brother
Robert, making all one family. This arrangement
suits us very well. I am not teaching in the college,
but I would not feel at home if I were away from it.
I hope it has a great future.” In his report for
himself and wife, for the year 1904-05, he says:
“The greater part of the autumn was spent in overseeing
the building and fitting up of a workshop,
and in superintending the setting up of a new thirty-two
horse-power steam boiler for heating and lighting
the college, together with a system of steam
piping for the same; also the setting up of engine
and dynamo and wiring the college for electric lights.
I also set up a windmill and pump and tank, with
pipes for supplying the college and several dwelling
houses with water. I also built for myself and Mrs.
Mateer a seven-kien house in Chinese style, affording
a study, bedroom, storeroom, box room, and coal
room.” This little, narrow, one-story house constituted
their home during the rest of his life in Wei
Hsien, though they still look their meals with the
other family. They sometimes called this house
“the Borderland,” for only a narrow path separated
them from the small foreign cemetery at the extreme
corner of the compound. In November, 1905, he
wrote to one of the secretaries of the Board: “The
college is, of course, delighted at the prospect of a
Science Hall. I take some credit for having prepared
the way for this gift from Mr. Converse.” In his report
for the year 1906 he said: “During the early part of the
winter I spent considerable time, planning, estimating,
and ordering supplies for the lighting, heating, and
water supply of the new Science Hall at Wei Hsien.”
We are at length face to face with the last stage in
the active connection of Dr. Mateer with the college.
February 26, 1907, he wrote to one of the secretaries
of the Board of Missions:
I returned three days ago from the meeting of
the College Directors at Tsingchow fu. The meeting
was prolonged and a very important one. A number
of important and embarrassing questions were before
us.... You will hear from others, of course,
and from the minutes, that Dr. Bergen resigned the
presidency of the college, and that in our inability
to find a successor I was asked to take the position
temporarily, until other arrangements could be made,
and Dr. Bergen was asked to remain as a professor,
which he agreed to do. This provided for the teaching,
and makes it possible for me to take the presidency
without doing much teaching, which I could
not do under present conditions.
During the period of his service in this capacity
the college not only did well in its regular work; it
also made some important advances. The total
attendance was one hundred and eighty-one, and a
class of ten was graduated at commencement. At
Tengchow he had always valued the literary societies
very highly, and these now received a fresh impetus.
Several rooms of the new Science Hall were brought
into use; two additional rows of dormitories were
built, one for college and personal teachers and
workmen, and one for students; not to mention
lesser matters.
Nevertheless he found his official position in certain
ways very uncomfortable. Some of the reasons of
this were casual to the internal administration,
and cannot now be appreciated by outsiders, and
are not worth airing here. Others were of a more
permanent nature, and had to do with the future
conduct and character of the institution. The
question of English had been for a while hushed to
sleep; but it was now awake again, and asserted
itself with new vigor. In a letter dated December 19,
1907, he said: “I am strongly in favor of an English
School, preferably at Tsinan fu, but I am opposed to
English in the college. It would very soon destroy
the high grade of scholarship hitherto maintained,
and direct the whole output of the college into secular
lines.” His fear was that if English were introduced
the graduates of the institution would be diverted
from the ministry and from the great work of evangelizing
the people to commercial pursuits, and that
it would become a training school of compradors
and clerks. Later the intensity of his opposition
to the introduction of English was considerably
modified, because of the advantage which he perceived
to be enjoyed in the large union meetings, by
such of the Chinese as knew this language in addition
to their own. He saw, too, that with the change of
times a knowledge of English had come to be recognized
as an essential in the new learning, as a bond of
unity between different parts of China, and as a
means of contact with the outside world. Looking
at the chief danger as past, he expressly desired that
the theologues should be taught English. At any
rate he had been contending for a cause that was
evidently lost. At this writing the curriculum of the
college offers five hours in English as an optional
study for every term of the four required years; and
also of the fifth year. Dr. Mateer, besides, was not
fully in sympathy with a movement that was then
making to secure a large gift from the “General
Education Fund” for the endowment of the institution.
In the letter just quoted he says: “The college
should be so administered by its president and faculty
as to send some men into the ministry, or it fails
of its chief object. I am in favor of stimulating a
natural growth, but not such a rapid and abnormal
growth as will dechristianize it. I do not believe
in the sudden and rapid enlargement of the plant
beyond the need at the time. It would rapidly
secularize the college and divert it entirely from
its proper ideal and work.” These questions were
too practical, and touched the vitals of the institution
too deeply, to be ignored by earnest friends on
either side. Some things as to the situation are so
transparent that they can be recognized by any
person who looks at it from not too close a point of
view. The entire merits of the argument were in
no case wholly on one side; and as a consequence
it is not surprising that wise and good men differed
as they did; and the only decisive test is actual
trial of the changes advocated by the younger men.
It is also perfectly plain that in this affair we have
only another instance of a state of things so often
recurring; that is, of a man who has done a great
work, putting into it a long life of toil and self-sacrifice,
and bringing it at length to a point where he
must decrease and it must increase; and where in
the very nature of the case it must be turned over to
younger hands, to be guided as they see its needs in
the light of the dawning day. He can scarcely any
longer be the best judge of what ought to be done;
but even if he were, the management must be left
for good or ill to them. That evidently is the fight
in which Dr. Mateer came ultimately to see this
matter. He courageously faced the inevitable. In
this, as in all other cases, no personal animosity
was harbored by him toward anyone who differed
from him.
October 27, 1907, he wrote to an associate on the
Mandarin Revision Committee: “I have now dissolved
myself from the management of the college,
and shall have very little to do with it in the future.
It has cost me a great deal to do it, but it is best it
should be so. I am now free from any cares or
responsibility in educational matters.” In a letter
to Secretary Brown, dated December 21, 1907,
he said: “In view of the circumstances I thought
it best to resign at once, and unconditionally, both
the presidency and my office as director. I have no
ambition to be president, and in fact was only there
temporarily until another man should be chosen.
I did not wish to be a director when I could not
conscientiously carry out the ideas and policy of
a majority of the mission. It was no small trial,
I assure you, to resign all connection with the college,
after spending the major part of my missionary
life working for it. It did, in fact, seriously affect
my health for several weeks. I cannot stand such
strains as I once did.”
One of the striking incidents of his funeral service
at Tsingtao was the reading of the statistics of
the graduates of the Tengchow College, including
the students who came with the college to Wei Hsien.
These have since been carefully revised and are
as follows: Total receiving diplomas, 205; teachers
in government schools, 38; teachers in church schools,
68; pastors, 17; evangelists, 16; literary work, 10;
in business, 9; physicians, 7; post-office service, 4;
railroad service, 2; Y. M. C. A. service, 2; customs
service, 1; business clerks, 2; secretaries, 1; at
their homes, 6; deceased, 22. These graduates
are scattered among thirteen denominations, and
one hundred schools, and in sixteen provinces of
China. About two hundred more who were students
at Tengchow did not complete the course of
studies.
The institution since its removal has continued
steadily to go forward. The large endowment that
was both sought and feared has not yet been realized,
and consequently the effect of such a gift has not
been tested by experience; but other proposed
changes have been made. A pamphlet published
in 1910 reports for the college of arts and sciences
an enrollment of three hundred and six students,
and in the academy, eighty. The class which graduates
numbers seventeen, all of whom are Christians.
Down to that year there had been at Wei Hsien
among the graduates no candidates for the ministry,
but during 1910, under the ministration of a Chinese
pastor, a quiet but mighty religious awakening pervaded
the institution, and one outcome has been a
vast increase in the number of candidates for the
ministry or other evangelistic work. The pamphlet
already quoted speaks of more than one hundred
of the college students who have decided to
offer themselves for this work. It is appropriately
added that “such a movement as this amongst our
students inspires us with almost a feeling of awe....
Our faith had never reached the conception
of such a number as the above simultaneously making
a decision.” It has recently been decided to bring
all the departments of the university to Tsinan fu, the
provincial capital.
In the theological college at Tsingchow fu, according
to the last report, there were eleven students
in the regular theological department and one hundred
and twenty-eight in the normal school. In
the medical college at Tsinan fu there were thirteen
young men. The aggregate for the whole university
rises to five hundred and thirty-eight. On the
Presbyterian side this all began with those six little
boys, in the old Kwan Yin temple, in the autumn
of 1864, at Tengchow. To-day it is a university,
and is second to no higher institution of learning
in China.
It is said that Dr. Mateer never led in prayer,
either public or private, that he did not most earnestly
ask that the Lord would raise up Chinese
Christian men, who as leaders would bring many
to Christ. His prayers during the forty-five years
of his missionary life are receiving a wonderful answer
at Wei Hsien and at Tsingchow fu.
XII WITH APPARATUS AND MACHINERY
“The things most likely to be needed in China, are first,
electrical engineering, especially telegraphy, and second, civil
engineering, especially surveying and laying out of railroads.
Special preparation in one or both of these things would be very
valuable. But what is more necessary for immediate use, and
as a preliminary to these things, is a practical knowledge of
scientific apparatus,—how to make and how to use it. I
have myself picked it up from books, without any instructor,
but only at a great expense of time and labor.”—LETTER TO
A PROSPECTIVE TEACHER, October 29, 1888.
Whenever a group of the early acquaintances
of Dr. Mateer talked together about
him, one thing certain to be mentioned was
his achievements with apparatus and machinery, both
with the making and with the using of them. Out
in China his reputation for this was so great that it
at times came near to being a burden to him. We
have already seen that the temporary superintendence
of the mission press at Shanghai was thrust upon him,
contrary to his own preference, and because, as he
expressed it in a letter at that time, the men in control
considered him a “Jack-of-all-trades,” able to do
anything at which he might be put. If they then did
really think of him as no more than a man who with
machinery could do a great many things without
performing any of them thoroughly well, they did
him a great injustice, which their subsequent knowledge
amply corrected. As the years went by, and
in this sphere of his multifarious activity he rose to
larger and more difficult achievements, his fame as
to this spread far and wide among both natives and
foreigners. At no time, however, did he permit his
efficiency in this line to loom up in such a form or in
such a degree as to seem even to others to put his distinctively
missionary labors into the background. It
is a significant fact that in the eulogiums pronounced
on him at his death this feature of his character and
work is seldom even mentioned. He was—first, last,
and all the time—a man whose life and whose abilities
were so completely and so manifestly consecrated to
the evangelization of the Chinese that when those
who knew him best looked back over the finished
whole, his remarkable achievements with apparatus
and machinery scarcely arrested their attention.
Dr. Mateer himself regarded his efficiency in this
sphere as due in some measure to native endowment.
He had an inborn taste and ability for that sort of
work; and stories have come down concerning certain
very early manifestations of this characteristic. It
is related that when he was a little boy he was suffering
loss through the raids made by the woodpeckers on
a cherry tree laden with luscious fruit. He pondered
the situation carefully, and then set up a pole, close
by, with a nice lodging place for a bird at the top,
and armed himself with a mallet down at the foot.
The woodpecker would grab a cherry, and immediately
fly to the pole in order to eat it; but a sharp blow
with the mallet would bring him from his perch to the
ground. So the boy saved his cherries. It is also
related of him that when a mere boy he had a friendly
dispute with his father over the question whether a
sucking pig had the homing instinct. He maintained
that it would return to its mother under conditions
that proved the affirmative; and in order to satisfy
himself, he placed a pig in a sack, and took it a long
way from its familiar haunts, and turned it loose.
It had been agreed that the result was to decide
the ownership. To his delight, immediately the pig
started on a bee line for home, and never gave up the
race until it was back in its old place.
For the development and application of this natural
gift he received almost no help from others. Probably
if that old workbench in the barn at the “Hermitage”
could speak, it might tell something as to oversight
and guidance of the boy by his father, in making and
repairing traps and tools for use in recreation and in
work; but beyond this he had no instruction. In his
day at college a chemical or physical laboratory was
supposed to be exclusively for the professor to prepare
his experiments; the student was expected only to
be a spectator in the classroom when the experiments
were shown. The man who occupied the chair of
natural philosophy at Jefferson when we were there
had a gift for supplementing his scanty outfit of apparatus
with the products of his own skill and labor,
and if the student Mateer had found his way down
into the subterranean regions where these were
wrought, he and Professor Jones would have rejoiced
together in sympathetic collaboration; but no such
unheard-of violation of ancient custom occurred.
In the academy at Beaver he first turned his hand to
making a few pieces of apparatus which he craved as
helps in teaching. But it was not until he reached
China that this field for his talent opened before him,
and continued to enlarge all the rest of his life. In
fact, even when he was absent from China, on his
furloughs, he did not get away from his work with
apparatus and machinery. During one of his earlier
furloughs, while he was looking up everything that
could be helpful to his Chinese boys, he spent some
time in the Baldwin Locomotive Works, by special
permission, in studying the construction of locomotives,
so that he might be able to make a model of one
on his return to China. In connection with this he
showed such an acquaintance with the structure of
these engines that he could scarcely convince some
of the skilled mechanics that he had not been trained
to the business. Dr. Corbett wrote concerning him,
after his death: “It was my privilege to meet him
at the World’s Fair at Chicago in 1893. He had spent
nearly a month there examining minutely many
things of special interest to him. As my time was
limited he kindly became my guide for a while, and
gave me the benefit of his observations. We first
visited the department of electricity, which he had
carefully studied in all its various applications. We
next went to Machinery Hall, where he had spent days
making drawings, measurements, and so forth, of the
most complex machinery. He seemed to understand
everything as though this had been the work of his
life.” Dr. Hayes says: “Dr. Mateer’s ability to meet
exigencies was well shown a few years ago in Wei
Hsien, when suddenly the large dynamo failed to
produce a current. He unwound the machine until
he located the fault, reinsulated the wire and rewound
the coil; after which the machine furnished its current
as usual.... Electrotyping was hardly in general
use in the west until he secured an outfit of tools
and taught a class of native artisans. When electric
fans came in vogue he purchased a small one as a model
and proceeded to make another.”
The time came when Dr. Mateer had a shop
equipped to do a great variety of work; and though
not on a large scale, yet big enough to meet his needs.
Already in 1886 in a letter to his brother William he
said: “In order to repair apparatus, and in order to
make many simpler articles, I have fitted up quite a
complete workshop, entirely at my own expense.
I have invested in the shop, in tools and materials
quite one thousand dollars. I keep a workman at
my own cost, whom I have trained so that he can do
most ordinary kinds of work. There are a great
many small articles we can make here more cheaply
than we can buy them. There are, however, many
articles we cannot make, especially those that involve
glass or the use of special machinery, or special skill.”
That shop continued to grow, and the variety of its
output increased. Writing of this, Mrs. Ada Mateer
says:
So soon as possible in addition to the room used for
carpenter work, a side house was devoted to the
purposes of a shop, which grew in completeness as
time went on. An upper story was used for storing
finished apparatus, for a painting, varnishing, and
drying room. The lower story was the shop proper,
with well, smithy, a long workroom, private room for
chemicals and so forth. Every conceivable amount
of space in the shop—above, around, and below—was
occupied with materials, on boards hung from
above, in cases made of old boxes lining the walls,
and on the floor. The shop contained not only
materials for things that are to be, but became also
a tomb of things that were, but are not, as well as a
hospital for things disabled. What old histories were
unearthed when, after forty years, this shop had to
be moved to Wei Hsien!
Up there it was perpetuated, the main difference
consisting in larger and better quarters, with some
improved conveniences. His wife continues:
For every machine bought, the market was canvassed
by correspondence, and the best selected.
Especially was this true with reference to any tools
or machinery used in the construction of apparatus,—as
machines for turning, blacksmithing, plumbing,
screw-cutting, burnishing, electroplating, casting, and
so forth. His shop was thoroughly fitted with all
appliances for the making of apparatus, or electric or
steam outfitting, so that he was ready to do anything,
from setting up a windmill or water system, or installing
an engine and dynamo, to brazing broken
spectacle frames or repairing a bicycle.
So far as it was practicable he turned over the actual
mechanical labor to Chinese workmen,—a skilled
foreman and apprentices under the foreman’s direction.
Why, though a missionary, did he employ so considerable
a part of his time in this way? Especially
at the outset of his missionary career stern necessity
to meet his own needs and those of his associates drove
him to this line of work. Had he been set down in
China at some such place as Shanghai, where foreign
articles could be purchased, very likely his mechanical
gifts would have remained largely dormant. But at
Tengchow he helped to make a stove out of odds and
ends, because one was indispensable in order to keep
warm. For the same sort of reason he extracted
teeth and made false sets, cobbled shoes, and acted as
master workman of all the building trades in the erection
of the “new home.” Sometimes he was thus
compelled to do things which seemed strange even
to him. When, in 1865, little Katie Mills died, he
had to act the part of undertaker. He said:
It fell to me to make the coffin, which I did as well
as I could from memory. I could not tell the carpenter,
and I had to do the work myself. He did
the rough work, and I did the cutting and fitting.
I had to go entirely by my eye, and I found it no easy
matter to get it in every respect in proportion. We
covered it with black velvet outside, and inside with
white linen. It looked very well when finished, and
pleased Mr. and Mrs. Mills very much. It is a work
I never thought of doing.
At one point on the way through Siberia when
homeward bound on his last furlough the train was
halted by some defect in the working of the mechanism
of the locomotive. Dr. Mateer, on account of the
delay, got out of his compartment and went to see
what was the matter. He saw that the locomotive
was a huge Baldwin, with whose construction he had
familiarized himself when in the United States on a
previous furlough, and he quickly discovered the
cause of the trouble. He could speak no Russian,
and the men in charge of the engine could speak no
English, but he managed to show them the cause of
the defective working of the mechanism, and how to
remedy it; and soon the train was again speeding on
its way.
The time never came during his long residence in
China when a necessity did not occasionally force
itself on him to utilize his mechanical gifts, and not
infrequently on the common utensils of life. In Wei
Hsien he often spent hours directing in such repairs as
were needed for furnaces and the like.
Few of his later and larger achievements in this field
could be fairly regarded as works of necessity, strictly
speaking; they rather were meant to be aids in the
great enterprise of evangelizing the Chinese Empire.
He was thoroughly convinced that one of the most
powerful agencies that could be employed for this
purpose was the school and the college. He was
equally sure that of all the studies that could be
introduced into the curricula of these institutions,
none could be so effective in opening the way for the
gospel as that of the natural sciences, and especially
physics, inclusive of modern mechanical appliances of
its principles. He believed that if bright young men
were educated in that kind of knowledge, and sent
out under Christian influences among their own people,
if they were also converted to Christianity, the outcome
must be the dissipation of the existing blind
adherence to the superstitions and ideas of centuries
long remote in the past; and that with this must
come the opening wide of the door for the entrance of
Christianity. That was his forecast; and the present
situation in China goes far toward vindicating the
wisdom of it. But to teach effectively the natural
sciences he must have apparatus. The only way he
could secure this was by buying what he could, and
by utilizing his own ability to set this up, and to add
as much as possible for the outfit yet needed. Such
was the prime object not only of what in a more
limited sense constituted the apparatus of the school
and college, but also of such larger appliances as the
plant for heating and lighting the premises. These
were far more than conveniences that helped to better
work; they were themselves constant exhibitions to
the students and to the people at large of the principles
of natural science, and of their value in the affairs of
actual life.
Dr. Mateer utilized his outfit of apparatus and
machinery as a means of reaching others besides the
students in his own institution, with the influence of
modern science, thus opening a way into their minds
for the gospel. As to one of his methods of accomplishing
this object Ada gives a graphic account:
At the time when the official examinations were held
in Tengchow, a large number of scholars came to
town, hoping to secure a degree, which should be the
first step toward official preferment. So many of
these, having heard the fame of the foreign machine,
came to see and to hear, that Dr. Mateer used to
give up his time to them during the days they were
at leisure. Finally the opportunity to do good in
this way proved so great that a place was provided
for the purpose, which was also much used at the
Chinese New Year, when all the town and countryside
give themselves up to recreation. After the “Mandarin
Lessons” began to bring in money, he devoted the
profits to the building of a large museum, with an
entrance on the street. One half was a big audience
room, so arranged that it could be darkened down for
stereopticon or cinematograph exhibitions. But it
usually served as an audience room, where the crowds
could sit and listen to preaching, while the detachment
that preceded them was shown through the inner
room by expert assistants. What a chamber of
wonders that inner room proved to them! Here was
a man, using a single hand to turn a small crank,
grinding corn as fast as a woman or a donkey could
do it on the millstones with much more labor. Here
in cases were birds stuffed, and on the walls pictures
of strange animals. Here was a man turning a large
crank that in some mysterious way made a little iron
car overhead first send out sparks, and then run all
around the room on a circular railroad. They wondered
if it would not have been easier for the man to
drag the car around on the ground! There was an
oil engine at the end of the room, that was a wonder,
no mistake; and a “shocking” machine that shocked
them indeed; and untold other wonders. When
the tour of the room was finished, the crowd was let
out by another door, their almond eyes quite round,
while a signal given by a steam siren showed it was
time for the next group to go in, and “open-open-eyes,”
as they call sight-seeing.
Occasionally a mandarin of high order came to
witness the marvels. The report of the Shantung
Mission for 1909 says that through the agency of the
chapel and museum twelve thousand people were
brought into touch with the gospel during the year;
so the work still continues.
Another good account to which Dr. Mateer turned
this peculiar gift was that of starting industries for
native Christians and promoting self-help among the
needy. Now it was a loom for weaving coarse Chinese
linsey or bagging, or a spinning or a knitting machine,
that he ordered; again, he inquired for a roller press
to be used for drying and pressing cotton cloth after
dyeing; and more than once he sent for a lathe for a
Chinese blacksmith. In 1896 he interested himself
in procuring an outfit for a flouring mill. He said:
“The enterprise of starting the mill was conceived
by Chinese Christians, and they are going to form a
company to raise the money. I do not think that
there is a roller mill in China,—certainly not in north
China.... We personally will not make a cent
out of it; but we are interested to get the Chinese
Christians started in an enterprise by which they can
make a living, and introduce improvements into their
country.”
His apprentices went out in many instances master
blacksmiths, machinists, and electricians, and had no
difficulty in finding places. A Chinese general temporarily
at Tengchow employed one of these men as
a blacksmith, and his order was so evidently filled
according to western methods that he paid a visit to
the wonderful shop of this wonderful master. The
very last man for whom he obtained a place was his
most skilled electrician and his latest foreman. This
man started a shop up at the capital of the province,
and for its outfit Dr. Mateer carried on an extensive
correspondence and procured large invoices of goods.
Because of the provincial university established there
under the new educational régime there was imperative
need of such an establishment, and the outlook for
success was excellent. Unfortunately for the proprietor,
however, the Chinese officials were equally
alive to the opportunity and were jealous of a rival.
So they managed to compel him to sell out, though
they broke the fall a little for him by retaining him as
foreman. It is said that the thought of this workman’s
troubles lay heavy on the heart of Dr. Mateer
in his last illness. It was usually for the poor that
he interested himself after this practical fashion; yet
he did not refuse to lend aid to others in promoting
enterprises that would be of general advantage. For
a wealthy Chinaman who owned a coal mine that
had been flooded with water he went to a great deal
of trouble in order to put him in the way of securing
a suitable pump. But whether it was for rich or poor
that the opportunity came to render such services,
he put aside all thought of his own ease or name or
profit, and did the best in his power.
He had special satisfaction in the manufacture of
electrical machines, though it was no easy matter to
cut and bore the large glass wheels without breaking
them, and to adjust all parts so that the greatest
efficiency was attained. Ada says:
When a machine was perfected, giving an unusually
long spark, he always liked to take me over at night
to the shop to see it perform. I well remember the
last time,—at Wei Hsien. At one end of the shop
was the windmill. Here he stopped to show me a
way of equalizing the stroke of the windmill pump
piston, by hanging on an old kettle of scrap iron.
Then he took me into an inner room, where on one
end of a long table stood the newly finished machine,—a
beauty, no mistake. Having forgotten some necessary
key, he took the lantern and went to get it,
leaving me in the dark. I noticed sounds, the dripping
of water in the well; but what was the ticking I heard?
On the return of the lantern I saw the cause,—a number
of clock dials all hung on the wall, and all to be run
by one clock by means of electricity. These were for
the college recitation rooms when they should be
finished. Then Calvin made the new machine do its
work. Adjusting carefully the mechanism, and then
measuring the spark, he exclaimed with boyish glee,
“There, isn’t that a beauty!”
Dr. W. A. P. Martin, of Peking, related in the
“Chinese Recorder” of December, 1908, this incident
as to Dr. Mateer: “It was once my privilege to spend
part of a vacation in his hospitable home at Tengchow.
I found him at work constructing scientific apparatus
with his own hands and wrestling with a mathematical
problem which he had met in an American magazine.
When I solved the problem, he evinced a lively satisfaction,
as if it were the one thing required to cement
our friendship.” The problem was to find the diameter
of an auger, which, passing through the center of
a sphere, will bore away just one half of its bulk. It
is easy to see that to a man of that sort his work and
the scientific and practical problems constantly arising
in connection with the making of apparatus and the
adjustment of machinery must have been in themselves
a rich source of pleasure, though he never
allowed himself to be so fascinated by his shop as to
break in on what he conceived to be his higher work.
Speaking of his last years, Ada says: “He would go
out wearied with the baffling search for a way of
expressing clearly in Chinese a thought none too clear
in the original Greek, his forehead grooved with the
harrows of thought. He would come back from the
shop an hour later, with well-begrimed hands, a new
spot on his long Chinese gown, a fresher pink in his
cheeks, a brighter sparkle in his eyes, and his lips
parted with a smile. Then, having washed, he would
immediately set himself again to the work of revision.”
He loved also to share this joy, so far as it could
be done, with others. At the Synod of China with
his apparatus he gave several exhibitions that were
greatly appreciated. At Wei Hsien he rendered
similar services in the high schools, and at Chefoo
in the school for the children of missionaries. The
Centennial Fourth of July, being quite an exceptional
occasion, he celebrated not with ordinary gunpowder,
but by setting off a considerable quantity of detonating
chemicals. In the early days at Tengchow a home-made
electric fly whisk whirled above the dining
table, and a little pneumatic fountain playing in a
bell glass rendered the room and the meals additionally
pleasant to the family and to the guests. Ada
writes:
But the thing that most of us will remember longest
is an illustrated lecture on electricity delivered to the
college in Wei Hsien, and afterward to the foreigners
there. As we sat in a darkened room in the college
watching the long sparks of fire, the twisting circles
of many-colored light, half illuminating a tall, white-bearded
figure in a long black gown, he seemed to us
like some old magician, learned in the black arts, now
become bright arts, invoking to his aid his attendant
spirits. Nor was the enchantment diminished when
afterward, more wonderful than a palmister, he showed
us by the x-rays the bones of our hands. A few weeks
later one of the ladies of the compound gave an evening
entertainment in which each one in the station was hit
off in some bright way, and we were to guess the name.
One number of the programme was this: A black-robed
figure with cotton beard appeared, leading a
youth whom he seated in a chair. Then the venerable
personage proceeds to examine the head of the stripling
with a stereoscope covered with black cloth, supposed
to be a fluoroscope, while an alarm clock in a tin pail
near by supplies the crackling of electricity. He gives
a careful examination, shakes his head, and pronounces
the verdict in one word, “Empty.” In explanation
of the tableau it only needs to be said that between
the exhibition and the entertainment Dr. Mateer had
given the young men of the station their examination
in the language.
XIII THE MANDARIN VERSION
“I am mortgaged to the Bible revision work.... It
cost me a great effort to engage in it, but it will probably be the
most important work of my life.”—LETTER TO SECRETARY
BROWN, June 13, 1896.
To tell this part of the story of Dr. Mateer’s life
satisfactorily, I must begin with the first general
missionary conference, held at Shanghai in
May, 1877. For two years previous he had served
on a committee to prepare the way for the meeting,
and in this capacity he had rendered much valuable
assistance. At that conference he read a paper in
which he elaborately discussed the subject of “The
Relation of Protestant Missions to Education.” The
meeting was regarded as successful, and a second was
called, to assemble at Shanghai, in May, 1890. It
was at this conference that the movement for a revision
of the Bible in Chinese took actual measures
toward realization.
For the sake of any readers not well informed as
to the Chinese language, a few preliminary statements
concerning it may be desirable here. In a very broad
and general sense it may be said that as to elements,
one tongue prevails throughout China proper; but
that there is also much important variation in this
general tongue. First of all, it needs lo be noted that
the language takes on two principal forms,—the
classic, or Wen-li, and the spoken, or Mandarin.
The classic has come down through the centuries from
the times of Confucius and Mencius, and remains
comparatively the same as it is found in the writings
of those sages. This is accepted as the model for
all writing; and for that reason Chinese students have
been required to spend the greater part of their time
in memorizing those ancient books, so that they might
not only absorb their teaching, but also especially
that they might be able to reproduce their style.
The classic Chinese is stilted and so condensed that in
comparison with it a telegram would seem diffuse;
and though many of the characters are the same as
those used in writing the spoken language, yet the
meaning and often the sound of characters is so
different that an illiterate person would not understand
it on hearing it read. The spoken language, on the
other hand, may be compared with English as to its
use. Good English is very much the same throughout
the countries where it is the vernacular, and though
it takes on local dialects, it remains everywhere
intelligible. So, broadly speaking, is it also as to the
spoken Chinese in a large part of the empire. From
the Yangtse up into Manchuria, though the pronunciations
differ very much, the colloquial if put into
writing is understood. In other words, with differences
of dialect and pronunciation it is the speech
of perhaps three hundred millions of people. The
regions excepted lie along the coast from Shanghai
down, and inland south of the Yangtse, where the
distinct tongues are numerous and are largely unintelligible
except in their own localities.
It has been the rule in China that a mandarin
must not be a native of the province where he holds
office; and, of course, it is essential that he should
be acquainted with the speech which constitutes the
lingua franca. Perhaps for this reason it is called
Mandarin. But down to the time when missionary
publications rendered it common in print, it was not
employed in that mode. All books, business or
government documents, the one newspaper of the
country, which was the court gazette, and all letters
were in the higher or, as it is called, the Wen-li form,
the only exception being some novels, and even these
were streaked with Wen-li. This, however, ran
through gradations,—from the highest, which is so
condensed and so bristles with erudite allusions that
only a trained scholar can understand it, down to a
modification which is so easy that with a slight
alteration of particles it is almost the same as the
Mandarin.
During the long period of the nineteenth century
preceding the meeting of the second general missionary
conference, a number of translations of the Scriptures,
some of them of the whole, and some of parts, had
been made, and had come more or less into use. The
men who did this pioneer work deserve to be held in
perpetual esteem, especially in view of the difficulties
under which they labored. Among the missionaries
who sat in that conference there was no disposition
to withhold this honor, or to disparage the value of
these early translations; but there was so widely
prevalent among them and their associates at that
time on the field a conviction that no existing version
was satisfactory, that they recognized it as a duty to
take up the subject, and to initiate steps looking to
the production of a better. An informal consultation
as to this was held by a few men, a couple of days
before the conference assembled; but inasmuch as
Dr. Mateer had not been invited, he did not attend.
Another consultation was held the following day, and
because of his great interest in the subject of a Bible
revision, he attended without an invitation. The
views expressed clearly indicated that there was a
general agreement that a revision was desirable, but
it also was made very plain that beyond this there was
a wide divergence of opinion. We will allow one of
his letters to a representative of the American Bible
Society, under date of May 26, 1890, to tell the next
step in this great undertaking:
As I walked home from the meeting, and revolved
in my mind the difficulty of the situation, the idea
of an executive committee, to whom the whole work
should be intrusted, came across my mind. When I
reached my room I sat down, and in a few minutes
and without consultation with anyone, wrote out the
plan, which without essential modification was subsequently
adopted. It seemed to strike all parties very
favorably. On the second day of the conference two
large, representative committees were appointed by
the conference, one on Mandarin and one on Wen-li.
I was a member of both these committees. Each
committee had a number of meetings, in which the
subject was freely and fully discussed in all its bearings.
It was evident that there was a general desire
for a version in simple Wen-li, and, the difficulties
being less in regard to the work already done, a conclusion
was first reached in regard to this version.
In Mandarin the difficulties were greater.
An agreement, however, was reached. The version
in the higher classic style then gave the most trouble,
but a satisfactory basis for this also was agreed upon;
and the reports as to all three versions were adopted
unanimously by the conference. In the same letter
he says: “I worked hard for these results, and felt
no small satisfaction in seeing such perfect unanimity
in the adoption of the plan proposed. I have never
done anything in which I felt more the guiding hand
of God than in drawing up and carrying through this
plan.”
The selection of translators for each of the projected
new versions was handed over respectively to executive
committees; and Dr. Mateer was appointed on
that having charge of the Mandarin, and made
chairman of it. He heard that he was talked of as
one of the revisers for that version, but as yet he had
not decided what was his duty, if chosen. It will
again be best here to take up from one of his letters the
thread of the narrative. Under date of December 13,
1890, he writes to Dr. Nevius:
I can truly say that before I went to the conference
I never even dreamed of what has come to pass. It
never occurred to me, before the conference, that I
should take any prominent part in the matter of
Bible translation. I felt that education was the only
field in which I should come to the front. I was never
in my life so providentially led as I was in this matter.
I was selected chairman of the Mandarin Executive
Committee and have been pushing the getting of
translators. The first few months were spent in corresponding
and comparing notes as to men. We took
a ballot recently, which resulted in the election of
five, ... I being the only one who received a
unanimous vote. We are now voting for the others,
to make up the seven.... My book of “Mandarin
Lessons” has no doubt brought me forward,
and its preparation has in a measure fitted me for the
work. My personal preferences are against the work
of translation, and I would fain decline it, but I don’t
see how I can in view of the circumstances. I feel
my incompetency, especially in Greek and Hebrew,
and you may be sure I am very loath to give up the
educational and literary work on my hands. Much
of it is half finished. But if the Mandarin Bible is to
be made, some one must do it; moreover, the men
who do it must have the confidence of the missionary
body; otherwise it will be a failure. As it is, circumstances
have led me to the position, and the strong
opinion of the men on the committee, and of others,
leads me to feel that I cannot lightly refuse.
In November, 1891, the revisers met at Shanghai.
Dr. Mateer, in a letter written in the following January,
said:
The scheme for the revision of the Chinese Bible
set on foot by the conference is now fairly organized,
and approved by the three great Bible societies.
The work of pushing the organization has fallen
largely on me, and I feel no small sense of relief now
that it is successfully accomplished. Contrary to my
own desire, I am compelled to lake a share as one of
the revisers in Mandarin; not that I do not relish
the work, but because it will of necessity interfere
with many of my cherished plans. We had a meeting
of all the revisers of the three versions, and it was a
fairly harmonious and an altogether successful meeting.
A great work is before us which I trust we may,
in the good providence of God, be enabled to accomplish.
The interval of about a year and a half between the
general conference and the organization just mentioned
was required because of the difficulty of
selecting and securing the translators. These for
the Mandarin version, as that body was originally
constituted, consisted of Henry Blodgett, George
Owen, Chauncey Goodrich, J. R. Hykes, Thomas
Bramfitt, J. L. Nevius and C. W. Mateer. During
the years in which this work was continued there were
in the membership so many changes caused by death,
removal and other causes, that Dr. Goodrich and Dr.
Mateer alone continued from the beginning until the
translation of the New Testament, the part of the
Bible first revised, was tentatively completed. Mr.
Baller of the China Inland Mission stands next in
length of service, having joined the committee in 1900.
Dr. Mateer in the work of revision had the assistance
of two Chinese Christians whose services were so large
and valuable that they deserve more than a passing
mention here. In a recent letter Dr. Goodrich pays
them the following just tribute:
Dr. Mateer, in the work of rendering the Scriptures
into a universal Mandarin colloquial, had two exceptionally
fine teachers. The first was Mr. Tsou Li
Wen, an ordained pastor, who left his parish to engage
in this work. Mr. Tsou was trained by Dr.
Mateer in his college, receiving his theological training
under Drs. Nevius, Mateer and others. He was a
man of beautiful spirit, discriminating mind, and
a fine sense of language. He was also a man of
indomitable perseverance. After a strenuous day’s
work of eight hours or more, he would often toil by
himself far into the night, seeking for some phrase
or phrases which expressed more exactly or more
beautifully the meaning of the original. And before
the final review, both he and my own lamented
teacher (Chang Hsi Hsin) would bestow the greatest
pains, in the hours when they should have been sleeping,
in a careful inspection of the work. Thus did
Mr. Tsou toil, while separated from his family for
long periods of time; his work on Bible revision being
as truly a labor of love as that of any member of the
committee.
But alas! Mr. Tsou’s life burned out all too soon
in his exhausting labors. But how I should like to
see his crown, and his shining face!
Happily for the work, Dr. Mateer had another
scholar, trained also in his school, Mr. Wang Yuan
Teh, a young man of keen, incisive, logical mind,
who had read all the best books in the Mandarin
colloquial. Mr. Wang was quick to see any fault in
the structure of a sentence, and insistent on its being
put right. He also worked most faithfully in this
translation, refusing offers which came to him of a
salary several times the amount he received. I think
he was held, partly by Dr. Mateer’s personality, which
drew him strongly, and partly by his own love for
the work itself. When the chariot of fire came for
Dr. Mateer, he left us, much to our regret and loss.
The work of these two men has entered largely into
the present translation of the New Testament, and
the influence of their work, as of Dr. Mateer’s, abides,
and will continue to be felt, till the great work of
rendering the Bible into a universal Mandarin is
finished.
Dr. Mateer himself, in the preface to his “Mandarin
Lessons,” makes acknowledgment of the valuable
services rendered in the preparation of that work by
Tsou Li Wen, and also by his own wife.
The Mandarin Committee, at the meeting in 1891,
after organization, proceeded to divide up the books
of the New Testament among themselves for work,
and adopted a plan of procedure. Each man was
first carefully to revise or translate his own portion;
and then to send it around to the others, who were to
go over it, and write their suggestions of emendations,
each in a column parallel to the proposed text. Next,
the original translator was to take these emendations,
and with their help was to prepare a text in Mandarin
for submission to the entire committee. Broadly
speaking, this was the method pursued to the end,
though with some modifications compelled or suggested
by experience. It was hoped that comparatively
rapid progress would be made; but in reality
the committee did not come together again until
September, 1898; and even then, only the Acts of
the Apostles was ready for general revision. For this
delay there were various causes, such as the death
of Dr. Nevius and the resignation of others, and the
absence of Dr. Mateer on furlough home; but the
chief cause was that every member was burdened with
so much other work that only a fraction of his time
could be given to this duty. Dr. Mateer, for example,
found himself loaded down with other literary and
missionary labors. At the meeting held at Tengchow,
in 1898, he was elected chairman of the committee.
This was an honor, but it also carried with it peculiar
duties which materially added to his burden. The
committee could muster only five members for that
sitting, but they proceeded with their work, and at
the end of two months and a half they finished the book
of Acts; and then they separated.
MANDARIN REVISION COMMITTEE AT WORK
DR. S. LEWIS (American Methodist Episcopal)
DR. GOODRICH (Congregational)
DR. MATEER (Presbyterian)
M. BALLER (China Inland Mission)
That meeting by actual experience brought out
distinctly not only the difficulties of necessity arising
from the translation of particular books of the Bible,
and indeed of every verse; but also others of a more
general character, some of which had previously been
more or less clearly seen. Should the new version
take as its basis one or more of the translations already
in existence; or should it go back straight to the
original Greek, and use the existing translations
merely as helps? In any case, constant reference to
the original was a necessity. For this, which of the
published texts should be accepted as the standard?
The meeting also disclosed a wide divergence of opinion
as to the style of Mandarin that ought to be
employed. On that subject in 1900, Dr. Mateer
expressed himself fully and strongly, in an article
published in the “Chinese Recorder.” He said:
The Mandarin Bible, in order to fulfill its purpose,
should be such as can be readily understood by all
when heard as read aloud by another. The fundamental
distinction between Wen-li and Mandarin is
that the former is addressed to the eye, the latter to
the ear. In all Protestant churches the reading of
the Scriptures has, from the first, constituted an
important part of public worship. In order that this
reading may serve the purpose intended, the Scripture
must be so translated as to be intelligible to the common
people. Only thus will they hear it, as they did
its Author, “gladly.” It is not enough that those who
know “characters” should be able to read it intelligently,
but rather that those who do not know
“characters,” and who in fact constitute by far the
greater part of the Chinese people, should be able
to understand it when it is read to them. Here then
is the standard to be aimed at,—a version that represents
the Chinese language as it is spoken, and
addresses itself to the ear rather than to the eye.
He summarized the chief characteristics of the
proper style thus: that words should be employed
which the people who commonly use Mandarin can
understand; that sentences should conform to the
model of the spoken language; and, concerning both
of these requisites, that such care should be taken as
to brevity, the order of words and clauses, the connective
particles, and the evident movement of thought
as expressed, that the Chinese would recognize in it
a people’s book; and yet one that is free from undignified
colloquialisms and localisms. All this he
held up as an ideal, not likely to be fully realized by
any set of translators, but if distinctly aimed at, more
sure to be nearly approached. Toward the close of
the work on the Mandarin version still another question
of a general nature arose. Throughout most of
their labors the committee had before them the
revised easy Wen-li translation, and for a part of the
time they also had the revised classic Wen-li Bible.
Ought the three revised Chinese versions to be harmonized,
so as to eliminate all variations? That, of
course, would be ideal. On this question the report
of the Mandarin Committee, which was as to substance
prepared by the chairman, took the negative.
It said:
The differences are not great, and where they exist,
the versions will serve Chinese students as a sort of
commentary. There are a multitude of questions
in Biblical interpretation which no translation can
settle once for all. Moreover, ninety-nine out of a
hundred of those who use the Mandarin will never
look at any other translation. Two versions in
perfect accord seem like a fine product, but it is
difficult of realization. An attempt at reconciling the
present versions would develop many difficulties. A
Mandarin sentence especially is not easy to tamper
with. The change of a single word would often
dislocate a long sentence, and necessitate retranslation
and adjustment to the context.
The Mandarin committee of translators continued
their tentative revision of the New Testament until
late in 1906, a period of fifteen years, counting from
the date of their first meeting for organization and
assignment of specific duties. They held eight different
sessions, being almost one each year after they
were ready with actual work; and none of the sessions
were shorter than two and a half months, and one of
them stretched out to six months. They assembled
at Tengchow, near Peking, at Shanghai, and most
frequently at Chefoo. In the final report is the
record: “The chairman can say for himself that he
has given the equivalent of about seven years all-day
labor to this work. He was present at every meeting,
and first and last missed but one day’s session.”
Each of the meetings took on distinctive incidental
associations. The third was held at Shanghai, and
from December, 1900, ran over some months into
1901. At that time, on account of the Boxer uprising,
missionaries were temporarily there as refugees from
all the provinces directly concerned in the version.
The sittings were in a small upper room in the Union
Church, which came to be called “the Jerusalem
Chamber,” and visitors were many. They saw two
rows of men, one on each side of a long table, yellow
faces being sandwiched alternately with white, as each
translator had, as usual in this work, his Chinese
assistant at his side. Often the discussions were
carried on in Mandarin, so that these assistants might
be able to understand and pass their opinion. Incidentally
it may be noted that besides his work on the
revision, Dr. Mateer often met with the refugee
missionaries during this period and greatly gratified
them by participating in the discussion of practical
problems.
After the Mateers returned from their furlough, the
sessions were all held at Chefoo, first in one of the
rooms of the China Inland Mission Sanitarium, and
later in a large upper room in the Missionary Home,
overlooking the bay. Usually at the commencement
of their meetings they sat together for three hours in
the morning, and reserved the rest of the day for such
private study as they wished to make; but as the
time wore on they would increase the sittings to as
many hours also in the afternoon, and crowd the
private review into such odd moments as were left.
To anyone, these protracted labors on such a work
must have become exceedingly tedious and almost
irksome; but to no one was it more so than to Dr.
Mateer. He knew Mandarin almost as if it had been
his native tongue; but the Mandarin which he knew
had often to be modified and expressions adjusted, so
that a Scripture written in it would suit other regions
of China as well as those with which he was
familiar. In writing his “Mandarin Lessons” and in
preparing his educational books he had only to ascertain
to the best of his ability how to express his ideas
in Chinese, and that was the end of the search; but
here he had to do his best, and then submit his product
to the opinion of others, and often with the result of
changes which did not commend themselves to his
preference. Yet, on his return home from the sittings
he would say: “I ought not to complain. I get my
way oftener than any other man does. Only I
cannot help thinking of the work I have laid aside
unfinished in order to do this.” After each meeting
the year’s work was printed, marked “Tentative
Edition,” and with a slip inviting criticism was sent
to the missionaries in north China and Manchuria.
These criticisms were all to be canvassed before the
edition could be printed that was to be presented to
the Centenary Conference, to which they were to
report.
The final meeting for the tentative revision of the
New Testament lasted for more than five months,
and the work was pushed with even more than the
usual vigor. The Centenary Missionary Conference
for China was only a year ahead when they began.
After the conference the revision was to run the
gauntlet of criticisms, and these were to be canvassed;
and thus at last the revision was to take its permanent
form. Mrs. Mateer gives the following graphic
account of one of the closing incidents of that session.
Passage had already been engaged for the Goodrich
family on a steamer sailing north. The baggage was
all carried down, the family all waited on the upper
veranda, with hats on, and the Doctor’s hat was ready
for him to seize as soon as he should get out of the
meeting. The “rickshaw” men were waiting, ready
to run with their loads. But still no sound of approaching
feet! Finally, as it got dangerously near
the hour of sailing, Mrs. Goodrich said, “I must go
and hurry them up.” So she marched boldly down
the hall, listened a minute at the door, and came back
with her fingers on her lips. “Those dear men are praying,”
she whispered; and tears filled our eyes as our
hearts silently joined in the prayer. Of course, every
morning session was opened with prayer; but this
was the consummation of all these years of toil, the
offering of the finished work at the altar.
Although the committee completed their revision
at that session, so far as this was possible until the
conference should meet and approve or disapprove it,
there was very considerable work of a tedious nature
left to Dr. Mateer to perform. The finishing touches
yet to be put upon portions of the version were not a
few; but the thing that required of him the most
protracted and delicate attention was the punctuation.
For this he introduced a new system which seemed to
him to be best for the Chinese language, and which
can be estimated fairly only by a scholar in that
tongue. To him also as chairman came the criticisms
which were invited from all quarters, most of which
were welcomed, but some of which touched him to
the quick. At length, in the spring of 1907, the
conference assembled at Shanghai, and the report of
the Committee of Revisers was made to that body.
He wrote to a friend in the United States concerning
it: “We had a grand missionary conference in Shanghai,
which, of course, I attended. There was more
unanimity and less discussion than in the former
conference.” The report received a hearty approval,
and the version was started on its course of examination
by all concerned, as preparatory to its final
completion. It was issued from the press at Shanghai
in 1910. It was called a revision, the aim being to
offer it, not so much as a rival to the older versions,
as an improvement upon them; but in reality it was
an almost entirely new translation, though in making
it advantage had been taken of the valuable pioneering
done by the others. Writing to a friend after the
conference had adjourned, Dr. Mateer frankly said:
Please note that we still have opportunity for final
revision, in which many defects will be eliminated.
There are places not a few with which I myself am
dissatisfied, many of which I see can be improved.
I refer especially to texts that are excessively literal,
and where foreign idioms are used to the detriment
of the style. It must also be remembered that many
terms and expressions that seem strange and perhaps
inexpressive at first will on further use seem good and
even admirable. Every new translation must have
a little time to win its way. That our version will
appeal strongly to the great mass of the Chinese
church I have no doubt.
During the long years he was engaged in this great
undertaking he learned some valuable lessons concerning
the translation of the Scriptures. He came
to speak of it as an art, for which special training and
experience are needed. In an article which appeared
after his death, in the November issue of “The Chinese
Recorder” for that year, he gave at length a discussion
of “Lessons Learned in Translating the Bible into
Mandarin.” He pointed out difficulties that hamper
the making of a version in the Mandarin as compared
with the Wen-li in either of its forms. To appreciate
these, one needs to be a master in those tongues.
But he also indicated others that lie in the way of a
translation of the Scriptures into any sort of Chinese.
Many of the very ideas of the Bible on moral and
spiritual subjects had never entered the Chinese mind,
and consequently there are no suitable words or
phrases to express them. Just as western science has
to invent its own terms when it enters China, so also
within limits must the translator of the Bible introduce
a vocabulary suited for his purpose. He believed that
in the China of to-day prejudice had so far begun to
yield that this could be effectively and wisely done.
In fact, each branch of modern thought that has been
grafted on the stem of the Chinese has already brought
with it new words, so that hundreds of these have
recently been coined and are on the tongues of the
leaders. Along with the lack of an adequate vocabulary
goes another thing that adds to the difficulty.
In the translation of other books the main need is to
express the thought, and in doing this considerable
freedom is usually tolerated; but accuracy of expression,
because of the very nature of the Bible, is
of the first importance in a version. Besides, the
Chinese Christians seem especially disposed to insist
on this quality. The tendency of a translator is apt
to be toward adapting the Scripture to what is conceived
to be the taste of the Chinese, to write up to
the style with which the educated are familiar, or
down to the level of the uneducated speech. Another
defect is to magnify or to minify peculiarities of expression
originating in the region where the Scriptures
were written. Dr. Mateer thought that he recognized
very distinctly tendencies of this sort in the older
versions, though abating in more recent times. His
article concluded as follows:
The Bible does not need any doctoring at the hands
of translators. The Chinese church is entitled to
have the Bible just as it is, in a strictly faithful and
accurate translation. This they demand of us who
translate it for them. They do not want to know
what the writers would have said if they had been
Chinese, but what they actually did say. This is
the manner in which the Chinese who have learned
English are now translating foreign books into their
own language, and this is very evidently the spirit of
the times. The English Bible, especially the Revised
Version, is a monument of careful and accurate translation.
Translators into Chinese cannot do better
than follow in the same line. I have a number of
times heard students when using commentaries, or
hearing lectures on various portions of Scripture,
express their surprise and dissatisfaction that the
Bible had not been more accurately translated. I
have known Chinese preachers, when quoting a text
which had a marginal reading saying that the original
says so and so, to remark with strong disapproval,
“If the original says so, why not translate it so, and
be done with it?” On one occasion in our committee,
when a question was raised about giving a metaphor
straight or paraphrasing into a comparison, one of our
literary helpers said with vigorous emphasis: “Do
you suppose that we Chinese cannot understand and
appreciate a metaphor? Our books are full of them,
and new ones are welcome.” If we do not give the
Chinese the Bible as it is, they will condemn us, and
before long will do the work for themselves.
In conclusion, it is worthy of remark that no one
man can make a satisfactory translation of the Bible.
There are limitations to every man’s knowledge of
truth and of language. Every man’s vision is distorted
in some of its aspects. This is a lesson we have
been learning day by day, and are still learning. If
any man wishes to find out his limitations in these
respects, let him join a translating committee.
With regard to the difficulties in the way of this
revision, Dr. Goodrich thus expresses himself:
No literary work of such peculiar difficulty has been
undertaken in China since the first translation of the
Scriptures by Morrison. To produce a Bible whose
language shall run close to the original, simple enough to
be understood by ordinary persons when read aloud in
the church or in the home, and yet chaste in diction;
this work to be done by a committee chosen from
widely distant localities,—from Peking on the northeast,
to Kneichow in the southwest,—might well
frighten any body of men. For the first years together
the work was almost the despair of the committee.
Their efforts to make themselves mutually understood
and to unite on a rendering were often immensely
prolonged and exasperatingly amusing.
But they were trying to do for China what Wyclif
did for the English and what Luther did for the Germans,—to
make a translation of the Bible into a
vernacular form of national speech which would be
everywhere intelligible; and they took courage and
pressed forward slowly but surely toward their goal.
In doing this they not only have accomplished the end
immediately sought, but they also have put into the
hands of the people at large a model which will largely
mold all their coming literature.
The conference at Shanghai in 1907 approved the
report on the New Testament and decided to proceed
to the revision of the Old Testament, and appointed
an executive committee to select the men to do this
work. The members chosen were the same five who
had served toward the close of the revision of the
New Testament, with the exception of a new translator
needed because one of the old committee had gone
home. Dr. Mateer was especially anxious that they
might be saved from the necessity of breaking in and
training several inexperienced members. Of course,
he had foreseen that he would probably be selected,
but when informed that this had been done he reserved
his decision until he knew of whom besides himself the
committee was to consist. To Dr. Goodrich of the
American Board, with whom he had been so intimately
associated, he wrote several times, urging him to
accept; and in one of these letters he said: “There
is a variety of reasons why I am perhaps as loath
as you are to do this work. So far as money, reputation,
or personal taste goes, I should rather do other
work. But then it seems as if duty calls to this.
Neither you nor I can ignore the fact that the experience
and training of all these years have fitted us in a
special manner for this work. We can do it better
and faster than new men.” He was again made chairman,
and as such he proceeded to distribute the first
of the revision work, for which he selected Genesis and
certain of the Psalms. He began his personal labors
at the opening of the year, and in the summer the
committee assembled at Chefoo to consider what had
then been accomplished. The Goodrich and the
Mateer families went into residence during their
projected stay, and took for this purpose a house
occupied usually as headquarters for the school for
the deaf, Mrs. Goodrich, because of the condition of
Mrs. Mateer’s health, having charge of the housekeeping.
The meetings were held in a little chapel
of the China Inland Mission, in the neighboring
valley. It was while so situated that Dr. Mateer was
stricken with his fatal illness.
In a letter which he addressed “To the dear ones
at home,” on the occasion of his seventieth birthday,
he said:
God has also blessed me in enabling me to accomplish
several of the leading purposes of my life. From
my boyhood I longed for a liberal education. My
next great desire was to give at least forty years to
work in China. Soon after I came to China I began
educational work on a very small scale, but aspired
to raise up a college that might be a power for good.
I early formed the purpose of becoming an adept in
the spoken language, and in aiming at this saw the
need of a text-book for learning the language, and
set about making it. All these purposes I have been
enabled, by the blessing of God, to accomplish. My
great work for the last ten years has been to lead in
the translation of the Bible into Mandarin. This
has been a most trying and laborious task, which is
not yet completed. The New Testament is nearly
done, but whether the Old Testament will be completed,
who can tell? My desire and hope is to complete
it. To prepare a mature and approved translation
of the Bible for the use of two hundred and eighty
millions of people will be for the glory of God in China.
XIV INCIDENTS BY THE WAY
“There are many trials and self-denials in missionary life,
but there are also not a few compensations and some advantages.”—LETTER
“TO THE DEAR ONES AT HOME,” at his
seventieth birthday.
The statement just quoted is general, and
admits of application in the case of every
faithful foreign missionary; but Dr. Mateer
meant it especially as an expression of his own experience.
In the story of his life work as already
here told we have seen it constantly exemplified.
There, however, still remain other instances that
deserve permanent record. In speaking of them as
“incidents by the way,” and in gathering them into
a single chapter, I do not mean to indicate that they
are unimportant. Some of them concerned the depths
of his life. But his work after he reached China was
chiefly along the lines that have been traced in the
preceding chapters, and those matters now to be
related, however important, were incidents by the
way.
Of the trials that overtook him, none were so keenly
felt as his bereavements. Only two or three of these
can be mentioned here,—such as occurred within the
circle of his own relatives out in China. The first
was the death of Mrs. Capp, the sister of Mrs. Julia
Mateer. This occurred on February 17, 1882, at
Tengchow. She went down into the shadows with
the tender ministrations of her sister and of Dr.
Mateer. In writing to a brother of her deceased
husband, he said:
On Sabbath afternoon,—yesterday,—we buried
her on the hill west of the city, with other missionary
friends who have gone before her. She was greatly
beloved by the Chinese, and there were few of the
Christians here who did not weep to part with her.
Mr. Mills conducted the funeral service in English,
and made some excellent remarks, admirably adapted
to the occasion. One of our native elders made a
very effective address in Chinese. Her work is done,
and it is well done. Her memory will not soon die
amongst the Chinese in this city and neighborhood.
We will miss her, oh, so much,—her help, her counsel,
her genial society, her spiritual power! Her school
will miss her the most: her place in it cannot be filled.
She was ready to die, and strong in faith, yet she
longed to live, not that she might enjoy life, but, as
she several times said, that she might save some more
souls. She repeatedly assured us of her joy that she
had come to China, and declared that she had never
counted it a sacrifice, but a privilege. I told the
Chinese over her coffin to imitate her as she did
Christ,—her zeal and earnestness in all duty, and her
untiring endeavor and desire to save souls.
Sixteen years later, almost to a day,—February 16,
1898,—Julia finished her earthly work and entered
into the heavenly rest. I have already mentioned
that sorrowful event in the life of Dr. Mateer, and
said something of her character. Her biography is
soon to be given to the world in a distinct volume.
Under these circumstances it would be superfluous
to make any extended record concerning her here.
It is due, however, to her husband to quote at least
a part of one paragraph from a brief memoir of her
written by him shortly after her death. In telling
of her varied labors and achievements he said this,
which so far as it was known to her in life, must have
been an immeasurable satisfaction:
Before the end of her first year in China she look an
active part in opening the little school which ultimately
grew into the Shantung College. To this school she
gave the best energies of her life, and to her in no small
degree is due its continued success. She was an accomplished
teacher, especially of young boys....
She did far more than teach, during the earlier years
of the school; she did fully two thirds of the work
involved, giving her time day and night to every
detail. She kept the accounts, looked after food and
clothing and a hundred nameless things. To the
end she was the confidante and adviser of all, in their
troubles, trials, and plans, in their marriage alliances,
and in their spiritual exercises. The thoughtful care
she gave to all her pupils when they were sick endeared
her to the hearts of all who were in the college.
She studied medicine on her own account, and had
no mean skill as a physician. All the sick in the
native church, and all the sick in her own neighborhood,
heathen and Christian, came to her, and she
never refused a call. There is no graduate of the
Tengchow College who does not have a place for her
in his heart, close by the side of that of his own mother.
During her illness there is probably not one of these
young men, scattered as they are over all north China,
who did not pray earnestly for her, many of them in
public as well as in private; and many of them have
written her the most anxious and affectionate letters.
On her sixtieth birthday, last July, the students of
the college and graduates with their most imposing
ceremony presented her with a decorated silk gown,
and placed a large title, or sign, in gilt letters over the
front door of the house, “Character-nourishing aged
mother.” It was the proudest day of her life when
these young men presented her with this most fitting
token of their loving reverence and esteem.
In view of the hatred and prejudice which confronted
her and her husband when they arrived in
Tengchow nearly thirty-five years before, it must have
almost seemed to her like the illusion of a dream.
We have previously seen that Dr. Mateer’s brother
John became the superintendent of the mission
press at Shanghai in 1872. He continued in that
position until 1876, when he returned home. For a
good many years he was in business in the United
States, and then he returned to China and took charge
of the mission press of the American Board at Peking.
In April, 1900, Dr. Mateer was called by telegraph to
come to that city as quickly as possible, on account of
the dangerous illness of his brother; but John died
the day before his arrival. In a letter to the surviving
brothers and sisters Dr. Mateer, after describing
the funeral services, added:
It is evident that his work here in the press was
highly appreciated. He was also held in high esteem
by the members of the other missions, and was well
and favorably known in the American legation.
Several of the speakers said that John’s life was a
well-rounded and successful one, achieved in the face
of great difficulties. From the standpoint of worldly
wisdom his life could scarcely be called successful;
but from the spiritual, it certainly was. In this
regard he was probably superior to any member of
the family. His mind was clear to the end and filled
with confident hope. As his disease grew more
serious he showed no fear, and to the last he faced
death without a tremor. May God give unto each of
us who remain grace to face the king of terrors with
the same triumphant faith. We buried him in the
foreign cemetery, just north of the city, in the most
beautiful spot in that cemetery, and just by the side
of Rev. Mr. Morrison of our mission.
It did not fall to the lot of Dr. Mateer to have any
experience of perilous adventure and of hairbreadth
escapes such as have come into the lives of missionaries
in uncivilized lands, and even in China. Still he by
no means escaped serious risks. In his earlier itinerations
he was several times threatened with attacks
from individuals or crowds, and sometimes he armed
himself in order to defend himself from assault. The
second year of his residence in Tengchow, because of
negotiations going forward for the renting of a house
near the south gate, a meeting of as many as a thousand
people composing the most influential clan in
the city assembled in one of the temples, and demanded
of the officials permission to kill the man who
controlled the house, and the foreigners; but the
excitement passed away without any open outbreak.
In the summer of 1867 there was a great scare at
Tengchow over the approach of a body of “rebels.”
These were in reality robbers, consisting of the dregs
left behind at the suppression of the Tai-Ping rebellion,
who burned and laid waste large districts
of country, and mercilessly slaughtered the people.
Their approach to Tengchow had so often been reported
that nobody knew what to anticipate; but
at length they, sure enough, made their appearance
in the neighboring country. The inhabitants crowded
into the city by thousands, bringing with them
donkeys, cattle, and everything that could be hastily
removed, so that not only the houses, but the streets
and vacant places were crammed with them, the mission
premises not being excepted. Julia found in the
situation a fine opportunity to give the gospel to the
women; and her husband was equally diligent among
the men, though he was unfortunately hampered by
the absence of his Chinese assistant. A British war
vessel called early in the scare and offered to remove
the missionaries to a place of safety; and later the
“Wyoming,” a United States naval vessel, anchored
out in the bay, where she could bring her guns to
play, if necessary, for the protection of American
citizens. Happily, after five days of this state of
things the rebels again vanished, but not without
leaving in their trail sickness and desolation. The
missionaries do not seem to have been much alarmed
at any time during the excitement, though no one
could tell what might happen.
In 1870 there was a cruel massacre of a large number
of French Roman Catholic missionaries and of some
others at Tientsin, and much valuable mission property
was destroyed. The news of this spread rapidly
over north China and kindled the animosity of the
natives against foreigners to such a degree that the
situation in many localities became very dangerous.
At Tengchow rumors of plots to wipe out the missionaries
there were frequent, and the native Christians
and others who were friendly communicated
to them information that justified serious apprehension.
A meeting of all the members of both the
Baptist and the Presbyterian station was called, and
then another the next day, and by an almost unanimous
vote it was declared that it was the duty of all
to take refuge in Chefoo or elsewhere until the danger
was substantially ended. Dr. Mateer in these meetings
advocated brief delay and further inquiry, but
when he found himself in a minority of one, he yielded
his judgment to that of all the others. Just as soon
as possible a message was sent to Chefoo for a ship
to come up and take the families to that place, and a
couple of British vessels promptly responded. All
valuables that could be quickly packed and easily
removed were shipped; and the premises at Tengchow
were placed in charge of as trusty Chinese as could be
obtained for the purpose, and a promise was given
by the chief official of the city that he would see that
constables watched the property. Dr. Mateer did
not go on the ship, but remained a day along with a
Baptist missionary in order to complete the arrangements
required for the proper keeping of the houses
and goods, and then he followed on horseback down
to Chefoo. The prompt appearance of the ships in
the harbor and the removal of the missionaries seem
to have made a most wholesome impression on the
people, and the excitement soon subsided, and a
rather general desire prevailed, even among the non-Christian
Chinese, that they should return. The
American minister at Peking also greatly gratified
the refugees and their fellow-laborers from the United
States by the to them somewhat novel experience of
his taking an earnest practical interest in their welfare.
He advised them to return to Tengchow, and
solicited the privilege of sending them back on an
American warship. After an absence of about a
month Dr. Mateer went thither on a preliminary
trip, and was pleasantly surprised at the friendly
altitude of the people. In due time the other missionaries
and their families followed; but at the meeting
of the synod which ensued a little later he was
compelled, after a brief sojourn at Tengchow, to go
down to Shanghai and remain there for a year and
a half in charge of the mission press. Just how real
was the danger that caused this temporary flight to
Chefoo, and how imminent, is a secret that perhaps
no man clearly knew, and which certainly the missionaries
never ascertained. Writing in his Journal,
just after his return, concerning his reluctant acquiescence
in the vote of all except himself in favor of going,
he says:
Nevertheless acquiescence was one of the hardest
trials of my life. My mind was filled that night with
a tumult of emotions; and I did not sleep a wink till
the morning light dawned. I did not know how
much I loved Tengchow, and perhaps I overrated the
damage our leaving would do to our own cause here,
especially to our schools. I am not sure, however,
that I did. The future remains to be seen. God
may, and I trust he will, turn it to be a blessing both
to us and to the native Christians. Aside from the
question of the actual amount of danger at that time
I felt a strong aversion to going in any case, unless
when my life was in such instant peril that there was
no possible doubt.... I am not yet convinced,
however, and though I do not wish to make any rash
vows, yet I think that I will not fly from Tengchow
again unless there is a great deal more imminent
danger.
When, in 1894-95, the war between Japan and China
raged, Tengchow being a port on the sea, and not far
from Japan, was of course likely to be a place directly
involved in the hostilities. The missionaries elected
to remain at their post, and asked the consular agent
of the United States at Chefoo to notify the proper
military official of their presence, number, calling,
and nationality, and to say that in case of attack they
would hoist the American flag over the mission premises,
and that if the Chinese found themselves unable
to defend the city they would exert their influence to
have it surrendered without loss of life. The Japanese
did come, and they, as a diversion from the
seizure of Wei-hai-wei, bombarded the place on three
successive days. As to this, Dr. Mateer says in his
autobiographical sketch for his college classmates,
“I watched the progress of affairs from the lookout
on top of my house, but escaped untouched, though
eight shells fell close around the house, and one went
over my head so close that the wind from it made me
dodge.”
During the Boxer uprising of 1899-1900, though the
movement originated in Shantung, the missionaries
and native Christians of that province suffered less
than in adjacent provinces. The reason for this is
that after the murder of Brooks in 1899, the anti-foreign
governor, Yu Haien, was at the solicitation
of the missionaries and the Foreign Office removed.
Unfortunately he was not deposed, but was merely
changed to Shansi. This accounts for the terrible
carnage there. The new governor of Shantung, the
since famous Yuan Shih K’ai, did his best to hold the
Boxers in check in his own province, and in the main
was successful. The prompt and efficient action of
Consul Fowler, of Chefoo, in removing the missionaries
from the interior also helped to save life. Still
it was bad enough in the western parts even of Shantung.
The native Christians in many places were
robbed, beaten, and so far as possible compelled by
threat of death to disown their faith. The story of
the destruction of the property of the mission at Wei
Hsien, and the narrow escape of the missionaries,
through the courage of one of their number, is about
as thrilling as any that is told of that period of widespread
burning and carnage. In the eastern side of
the province, beyond ominous excitement at such
places as Tengchow and Chefoo, there was no serious
disturbance. Probably this was due in part to the
wholesome respect which the Chinese living not too
far from the sea had come to feel for foreign war
vessels, and for the troops which they could promptly
disembark.
Just before the siege of Peking began Dr. Mateer
had made his visit to that city, to bury his brother
John. The earlier part of 1900 he remained at Tengchow
quietly at his work, and sending his orders just
as usual for supplies needed by the college and personally.
In July, by order of the American consul,
the missionaries were brought down to Chefoo on a
gunboat. Dr. Mateer and Mr. Mason Wells, however,
lingered behind for a while. It was vacation,
and Dr. Mateer occupied his time with the Mandarin
version. Among the Chinese a wild rumor gained
some currency that he was leading an army of many
thousand men to relieve Peking; and the fact that
his fiancée was shut up there gave at least piquancy
to the report. Later he went on down to Shanghai,
and there spent six months on the Revision Committee;
and so he did not get back to Tengchow until
June, 1901, when the Boxer uprising was at an end.
In a communication which he published in “The
Herald and Presbyter” later in 1900, he gave at
considerable length his views as to the causes of that
dreadful outbreak. These do not differ essentially
from the ideas which have come to be generally accepted
in the United Stales. The missionary propaganda
he frankly acknowledges to have, by the very
nature of its message, aroused the malignity of evil
men; and this also to have been much aggravated by
the habit of Roman Catholics of standing between
their converts and the enforcement of Chinese laws;
but he denied that this was the main cause. He
holds that the outbreak was chiefly due to the traditional
hatred of foreigners; to the territorial aggressions
of the western nations in China; to the ill
treatment of Chinese abroad and in their own ports
by foreigners; and last, but by no means least, to the
German operations in Shantung, consisting of their
revenge for the murder of some German priests, the
occupation of Kiao-chow, and the survey and building
of a railroad through the province. The high-handed
encroachment of Russia in Manchuria and
the construction of a railroad through that province,
and the guarding of it by Russian troops, added fuel
to the flames. Summing up, he says: “The whole
movement is anti-foreign,—against all nationalities
and occupations, ministers of governments, consuls,
merchants, missionaries, teachers, and engineers,
railroads, telegraphs, churches, schools, and Christian
converts,—everything in short that is in any way
connected with the detested foreigner. It is the conservatism
of old China rising up and bracing itself
for one last desperate struggle to suppress the new
China that is supplanting it.”
Another of the trials that touched deeply his heart
was the contact into which he was brought with the
sufferings of the people through famine. In 1876,
1877, and 1878 there was great scarcity in the general
region of Tengchow, and consequently the prices for
food rose so high that it was impossible for the poor
to obtain the necessaries of life. Dr. Mateer, as also
other missionaries, helped them to the extent of his
ability, and became the almoner of charitable people
who sent money from western lands to buy food for
the famishing. But in 1889 he was brought face to
face as never before in his life with destitution in
China. The inconstancy of the Yellow River was
one cause of the terrible disaster. Twice within
about a third of the nineteenth century it had changed
its bed; and as a consequence, finding its new channel
too small to carry off the waters in times of heavy and
protracted rain, it had repeatedly flooded vast districts,
often to a depth of several feet, carrying destruction
to the mud walls of the buildings and desolation
to the cultivated ground. Drought also in a
portion of northwestern Shantung had prevailed to
such an extent as to prevent the growth and maturing
of grains and vegetables. At last a climax was
reached by these disasters; and it was recognized by
missionaries and others as so awful in its character
and so vast in its sweep that a Famine Relief Committee
for Shantung was organized, and an appeal
was made for help from Great Britain and the United
States, and from the southern ports of China. At
least two hundred thousand dollars came in response,
and it was especially in connection with the distribution
of this that Dr. Mateer was brought into direct
personal contact with the suffering. Districts were
assigned to missionaries and others, and a careful
canvass with the aid of reliable helpers was made.
They ascertained that many tens of thousands of the
people had wandered away from their homes, either
to seek food or at least to leave to the more feeble and
helpless such sustenance as might yet remain. No
one ever was able to form a definite idea of the number
who had died from starvation, either on their wanderings
or at their places of residence. The canvassers
found multitudes trying to sustain life by eating the
husks of grain, the seeds and roots of grasses and
weeds, the bark of trees, and the blades of wheat.
Some of those who had been considered rich had provided
themselves with poison, so as to take their own
lives when they must come to the point where to live
would be to see their children perish from starvation.
The allowance furnished by the relief fund to an individual
was fixed at about a cent a day in all ordinary
cases, and it was ascertained that on this allowance at
least a hundred thousand lives were saved. On some
old, faded Chinese sheets of paper, closely written with
his own hand, the record of a part of Dr. Mateer’s
experiences in the famine canvass, out in northwestern
Shantung, has come down to us. As it is all now a
thing of the remote past, there probably would be no
good in recording the dreadful details here. It is a
story of children reduced to skeletons, eager to lick
up every crumb as big as a pinhead that fell from the
bit of coarse bread given them; of men and women
falling down on their knees and begging for food for
their families, and bursting into tears at the prospect
of relief; of the sale of wives and daughters to procure
something to eat; of unburied corpses, and of graves
just filled with those who have perished. He said
under date of April 9, 1889: “It is the hardest work
I ever did in my life. To look all day long on a continual
succession of starving people, and to be beset
by their entreaties to enroll more names than you can,
is very hard on the nerves. There is no end to the
starving people.” Again, May 17, he said: “After
seven weeks and two days I am at last about to leave
for Tsinan. We have now enrolled about thirty-three
thousand, and the work of enrollment in this
place is finished.” What as to the religious outcome?
The impression made upon multitudes even in excess
of those who received aid was most favorable to
Christianity. One of the leading Chinese assistants
in the work wrote to the people who furnished the
aid: “This must be the right religion. If not, why is
it that the followers of other religions do not do such
things?” Thus they were willing to examine into
Christianity, and the more they examined, the more
they believed, until they were converted to Christ. As
an ultimate outcome, several hundred were received
into the churches.
The controversies which he had with some of his
fellow-missionaries in China were a serious trial to
him. He was not by inclination “a man of war,”
but in connection with the prosecution of the missionary
work in which he was engaged in common with
his brethren, questions of great practical and immediate
importance arose, and as to some of these he
had strong convictions that were at variance with
those of other wise and able men on the field. It was
best for the cause that these should be thoroughly
discussed, and there was much that could be fairly
and earnestly urged upon either side. All that could
be rightly demanded was that the “fighting” should
be open and honorable, and that it should be conducted
in such a manner as not to hinder the missionary
work or to descend into personal controversy.
Dr. Mateer, as to ability and efficiency, stood in the
front rank of those who were giving their lives to the
evangelization of China. It was his duty to express
his views on these questions, and to do this in such a
way that no one could misapprehend them. If any
fault could be found with him in this matter, perhaps
it would be that he saw his own side so vividly that
he was not always able to recognize the entire force
of that which was said in favor of what ran counter
to it. Those who knew him well and appreciated the
greatness and tenderness of his heart waived the sting
which sometimes seemed to be in his words; but perhaps
some others who were not so well acquainted
with him occasionally winced under its pungency.
Everyone who was concerned in these discussions,
long ago has come to recognize him in these as an
earnest, capable man, trying to do his duty as he
saw it.
By far the most protracted of these controversies
was over the word that ought to be used in Chinese
to express the idea of God. Under date of November
4, 1865, he made this entry in his Journal: “This
week I had a note from Mr. Mills, saying that a
proposition was current at Peking to get out a Union
New Testament in Mandarin, and to use in it Tien
Chu for God, and Sheng Shen for Holy Spirit, and
that all but Mr. ⸺ had signed it. I cannot sign
it at all; I am utterly opposed to any such a proceeding.
I cannot conscientiously use these words.”
That was his first gun in a battle that for him completely
ended only with his life. His contributions
to the discussion were sufficient to be in substance,
as we have already seen, gathered into a separate
volume. In 1907 his “Letter Book” shows that he
was still remonstrating against a request to the Bible
societies to employ for God and for spirit Chinese
terms that violated his convictions. His very last
recorded utterance on the subject was in a letter dated
November 17, 1907. In it he expresses his gratification
that in an edition of the New Testament for
China, issued by an English Bible society, they were
“to use the terms Shen and Sheng Ling for God and
Spirit.” He added: “This suits me. These and
these only are the right terms, and despite all appearances
will ultimately win in the really orthodox and
evangelistic church of China.” It is not improbable
that the drift of opinion for various reasons as to this
was against him; but it was in this faith that he
died.
As to his part in the discussion concerning what
came to be known as “Methods of Missions,” no
more need be said here than that the men who took
part in this were alike seeking the best solution of a
difficult problem, and never wavered in unbroken
fellowship and confidence as comrades in the larger
work of giving the gospel to China. It was not until
1905 that Dr. Mateer published his book on this
subject, and then only when urged by some of his
associates.
In the battle as to English in the college, Dr. Mateer
had to yield to the majority who came into control
after the removal to Wei Hsien. He was great enough
not to allow the new policy to chill his love for the
institution, or to stay his hands from such help as, in
addition to his occupation with the Mandarin version,
it was possible for him to lend either by influence
or money, or even by physical toil. In his final
relations with the college he proved himself to be still
its loyal and generous supporter.
It has often been remarked that one never meets a
foreign missionary who has thrown himself or herself
unreservedly into the work who is unhappy. They
are human, and feel their trials often keenly; but
their faces shine with an inward peace, and they rejoice
over the one sheep, or the many, whom they
have found in the wilderness and won to Christ.
When Dr. Mateer advanced in age, and thought of
what he had helped to accomplish for the evangelization
of China, he must have felt a satisfaction such as
seldom possesses a soul. In view of this supreme joy
it almost seems out of place here to tell of the “incidents
by the way” which ministered to his pleasure.
One of these consisted of the signs of appreciation
shown him by men or bodies of men whose commendation
meant something worth while. We have seen
how the missionaries on the field trusted and honored
him by calling him to leadership in several most important
enterprises looking toward large and permanent
results. But others besides missionaries recognized
him as worthy of their honors and trust. Hanover
College in 1880 conferred on him the doctorate
of divinity. In 1888 the University of Wooster, for
his “attainments, literary and scientific, philosophical
and theological, and for his success in his work as a
Christian missionary and teacher,” gave him the
doctorate of laws. At the centennial of his alma
mater in 1902, Washington and Jefferson College also
conferred on him the doctorate of laws, in recognition
of his “distinguished ability and service as a scholar
and minister of the gospel.” In 1894, the British
and Foreign Bible Society by making him an honorary
foreign member gave him an exceptional distinction.
In August, 1898, his lifelong friend, Rev. Dr. W. A. P.
Martin, who had been called to the headship of the
new Imperial University planned for Peking, wrote
to him, asking whether he would accept the deanship
of the school of engineering; but in reply he declined,
on the dual ground that he was under obligation to
continue in his missionary work and in the translation
of the Scriptures. In December of the same year he
received from the “superintendent” of the new Imperial
University at Nanking an invitation to become
the “head master” of that nascent institution. Coming
as this did directly from that high Chinese dignitary,
it was an extraordinary mark of respect and
confidence; but this also he declined, and for the same
reasons as in the preceding case. In writing of these
offers he said to one of the secretaries of the Board of
Missions:
Both these positions offered me a salary much
greater than a missionary gets. Though not now
doing much active work in teaching in the college,
I yet feel that my work and influence here are very
important. Having embarked in the work of Bible
translation, I cannot turn my back upon it, unless the
conditions of the work itself constrain me to do so.
Also I am anxious to preach,—especially to work in
revival meetings amongst the native churches. I
also value highly the opportunity I have to preach
to the students of the college.
One of the minor but notable honors that came to
Dr. Mateer was the celebration of his seventieth
birthday at Wei Hsien. The Chinese have a curious
custom as to the birthday of the emperor, and perhaps
of other distinguished persons; they celebrate it a
year, a month, and a day in advance of the true date.
This custom was followed on the occasion of Dr.
Mateer’s seventieth birthday. An eyewitness has
given the following graphic description of the affair:
“The alumni and students of the college planned the
“birthday party”; and a most elaborate affair it
was. In the morning a long procession of hired rejoicers,
with gay banners and doleful native bands,
marched into the compound from the city and were
reviewed at the great gate by Dr. Mateer and the
college faculty. Wasn’t it a fortunate thing that the
doctor-of-laws hood of Dr. Mateer agreed so well with
the Chinese idea of crimson as the most appropriate
color for any celebration? At the chapel, which was
packed to the limit with natives and out-of-town
guests, presentation speeches which none but Orientals
would ever have sat through, and responses were
made, world without end. The most successful
native pastor in this part of China, who was once Dr.
Mateer’s table boy, spoke first. The highest officials
of the country were present in all their grandeur,
looking properly haughty and impressive,—though I
shall never cease feeling that the typical expression of
dignity and authority in China resembles the lime-in-the-mouth
look more closely than anything else. If
a concrete argument for the existence of the college
were necessary, I can think of none better than a
look at the alumni. Such splendid, manly fellows
they were, with keen, intelligent faces! Some have
become wealthy business men, who show their
appreciation; and many are native pastors and
teachers. A double quartet of college students furnished
the music; and it was remarkable how well
they sang the complicated part tunes. They have
had no regular training, but have kept at it by themselves,
and have surprised us all by their progress.
But for the music, the real, soul-uplifting music, give
me the native band! Imagine several bagpipes and
flutes, diminutive drums, and two or three toy trumpets
which sound only one note; and then conceive
of each player carrying on an independent enterprise,
and you may know something about the Chinese
native band. It is too rare for words. Large bunches
of firecrackers fastened on tripods, and cannon crackers,
were used all through the festivities, so that it
seemed exactly like the Fourth of July. A Chinese
feast was given to all the invited guests, and the
rabble from the villages near by encamped on the
compound and ate the lunches they had carried about
with them all morning in their handkerchiefs. It
was a great day for the college, and a great occasion
for the village people; but most demoralizing to
language study. The gold-embroidered, scarlet banners
were so many and so immense that since that
one day in the church no place has been found sufficiently
large to hang them.”
In the general section of China where he lived he
made many journeys. Over that part of Shantung
situated to the east of the Yellow River he traveled
often, and far and wide. Several times he visited
Peking. Once, as we have seen, he went down the
Grand Canal, to Nanking, and the lower Yangtse.
Frequently he steamed up and down the coast to
Shanghai, and once as far south as Ningpo. But
those immense and populous provinces situated in
the west and south of China he never visited, not
because he was not interested in them, or could not
afford the expense, but because he could not spare the
time. In the spring of 1868 the “Shenandoah,” an
American war steamer, came to Tengchow on its
way to Korea, where search was to be made for any
survivors that might remain from the “General
Sherman,” lost there two years before. The “Shenandoah”
wanted an interpreter, and by general consent
the duty seemed to fall on Dr. Mateer, so that
he fell constrained to accept, though the health of his
wife and other affairs rendered this very inconvenient.
The cruise lasted about six weeks, and carried them
to several places on the west coast of Korea, and
among these to the river Pyeng Yang, since so familiar
to readers of missionary journals, and to those who
followed the Japanese troops on their march against
the Russians in the recent war. That was then a
“forbidden land” to foreigners, and the expedition
found it difficult to get into peaceable or forcible communication
with officials or other natives, and accomplished
almost nothing. In the light of the fuller
present knowledge of that politically unhappy but
religiously hopeful country the observations of the
interpreter or of any of the other persons belonging
to the expedition are now of little interest.
Dr. Mateer came back to the United States only
three times on furlough during the more than forty-five
years that intervened between his sailing for
China in 1863 and his death. The first of these
absences from China began in May, 1879, and ended
about the first of January, 1881. Under the rule of
the Board of Missions he was entitled to a furlough
home long before that time, but he felt that he could
not sooner leave his work. He also held the opinion
that there is usually no sufficient reason to justify this
privilege to a young missionary so early as is established
custom. His wife, on account of health, had
preceded him some six months. He came by way of
Japan, and brought with him two Mills children, their
mother having died. They crossed the Pacific on a
slow vessel, but the voyage was delightful, and in
about as great a contrast as is possible with his experience
on the ship which originally carried him to
China. He was made more than comfortable and the
captain went out of his way in order to show him
courtesies. On arrival in the United States his time
was spent in the main as by other home-coming missionaries,—in
family reunions, visiting here and there,
preaching to churches, addressing ecclesiastical meetings
of various sorts, seeking recruits among theological
students, and other engagements,—the total
of which so completely fill up the time that little is
left for real rest and recuperation. To this customary
list he added two other items,—a period spent in
attending medical lectures at Philadelphia, and a
hasty trip across the Atlantic to England and to
Paris.
His second furlough extended from July, 1892,
until October, 1893. He went and came by the
Pacific route, and was comfortable on these voyages.
Julia was with him. During that sojourn in the
United States, in addition to the occupations usually
engrossing the time of a missionary on furlough, he
went to Chautauqua and studied Hebrew in order
to fit himself better for revision work. He also made
at the World’s Fair at Chicago that exhaustive
examination of machinery, and especially of electrical
appliances, of which Dr. Corbett, in the quotation
previously given, has told us. One of the greatest
pleasures that came to him on this leave of absence
was the privilege of once more seeing his mother, then
advanced in years. In the last of his letters to her
that have come down to us he mentions that he and
Julia are at the writing just going into the harbor at
Chefoo, and he concludes by saying: “We are very
glad that we are at the end of our journey, and back
again in China. This is where our work lies, and
this is where we ought to be.” It was on his arrival
at Tengchow that his students gave him that royal
welcome already described.
On September 25, 1900, he was married to Miss Ada
Haven, who had been for many years a missionary
of the American Board at Peking, and as such was
recognized as an accomplished Chinese scholar and a
successful and highly esteemed teacher in the Bridgman
School. Her engagement to Dr. Mateer briefly
antedated the siege of Peking, and she was one of the
company of foreigners of whose fate the western
world waited with bated breath to hear during the
midsummer of 1900. In her book, “Siege Days,” she
has given an inside view of the experiences of herself
and of many others, and as such it has not only a
passing but also a permanent interest and value as a
record of that remarkable episode of madness on the
part of the “old” China. After the relief of the city
and a little season of recuperation from the strain of
the siege, Miss Haven came down to Chefoo, and the
marriage took place in the Presbyterian church at
Chefoo, Dr. Mateer’s old friend, Dr. Corbett, performing
the ceremony. As his wife, Ada rendered him
valuable assistance, by taking part in the preparation
of the smaller book of “Mandarin Lessons.” She
also greatly helped the committee on the Mandarin
version of the New Testament by making a Greek and
English concordance of their first revision. For eight
years they two walked together; and he had from
her in his literary labors, as well as in other ways, an
inspiration and often a direct help of which the world
outside of their home can know very little.
His last furlough extended from June, 1902, to
August, 1903. Dr. and Mrs. Mateer came to the
United States by way of the Siberian railroad and
the Atlantic, so that when he arrived in China on his
return he had a second time gone around the world.
In a letter written to me in April, 1908, he says, “We
went home seven years ago by the Siberian railroad,
and it was exceedingly comfortable,—much more so
than traveling in an ordinary Pullman car.” Perhaps
in the interval that had elapsed the recollection of
the discomforts that attended the first stage of that
journey had somewhat faded from his memory; or
he may have had in mind only the part that lay
through Siberia proper and in European Russia. A
Chinese naval officer who had often come to his study
to talk over various matters had expressed a desire to
take him and his wife over to Port Arthur in a gunboat
when they started on their homeward route.
The officer intended by this only one of those empty
compliments which Orientals are accustomed to pay,
without any thought that the offer involved would be
accepted. Dr. Mateer was himself the soul of truth
and honor, and, being such, took what this officer
said to him at its face value. So, in this case, he sent
word of acceptance of the offer, but an answer came
back that “after all, it would be inconvenient to take
them just then, and that orders had been left with a
Chinese junk to take them.” The junk could not
come in to shore and they had to go out in a rowboat.
When they went aboard, they found that there was
no cabin,—nothing, indeed, at their command but a
little hold about breast-high, stowed full of Chinese
baggage, some of it consisting of malodorous fish and
onions. In order to make room for them, the onions
were piled in stacks just above on the deck; but even
this change left for human occupation merely about
a cube of five feet. The boat was crowded with
Chinese passengers, and it poured down rain, from
which the Mateers could protect themselves only by
hoisting an umbrella over the hatchway which was at
the same time their only source of ventilation. It
was not until the third day that they reached Port
Arthur.
It was characteristic of Dr. Mateer that under
these conditions he spent every moment of daylight
in putting final touches on the manuscripts of the
“Technical Terms” and of the “Chemical Terms,”
so that these might be mailed immediately to the
printer. They came very near missing the train,
and if this had happened they would have been
compelled to wait a week for another opportunity.
The railroad had but recently been completed at that
end, and no regular schedule as to service had yet
been established; but with many delays and with
various inconveniences, after a week, they reached
the point at which they overtook an express train
bound for Irkutsk. This was luxury indeed, compared
with the beginning of the journey. From
Irkutsk onward the commendatory language of Dr.
Mateer was justified by the accommodations. The
Mateers visited Moscow and St. Petersburg; then
came on to Berlin, and thence, successively, to
Düsseldorf, Cologne, Paris, and London, the latter
place brilliant with preparations for the belated coronation
of King Edward, which took place while they
were there. From Liverpool they crossed the Atlantic
to Halifax, and then entered on their American
vacation.
A part of the furlough he spent in efforts to secure
endowment for the Shantung College. In the
prosecution of this work he visited various churches,
and in Pittsburg he remained for six weeks. It was
during this furlough that he sat as a commissioner
from his presbytery in the General Assembly at Los
Angeles. Among other celebrated spots which they
included in their itinerary was the Yosemite Valley.
But the part of the furlough that probably afforded
them both the most unalloyed pleasure was spent in a
visit to the region of the “old home.” His wife, in
a letter, tells the story thus:
Ever since our marriage it had been the cherished
plan of my husband to take me on a wedding journey
when we got to America,—a carriage journey, to see
all the spots familiar to his childhood. By planning
with this in view we were able to spend the anniversary
of our wedding in Mechanicsburg, with Calvin’s
cousins. One of these made a feast for us. Many
were the reminiscences exchanged,—a happy binding
of past and present. In a day or two we started on
the long-promised journey, in a “one-horse-shay,” a
journey of several days, our stops at noon, and again
overnight, always being with friends of his childhood.
But the friend to which most of all he wished to introduce
me was his beloved old Long Mountain; and as
I looked first at that, and then at his glowing face, I
saw whence, next to his Bible and catechism, he had
drawn his sturdy love of truth and freedom. Either
on that journey, or on subsequent trips from Mechanicsburg
or Harrisburg, we visited all the localities
familiar to his childhood,—his birthplace, where the
wall that used to seem so high to him now appeared so
low to the white-bearded six-footer,—the brook where
the clover mill used to stand,—the Silver Spring
church, where he was baptized, and its adjoining
graveyard, where lie many of his old Scotch-Irish
ancestors, under quaint inscriptions.... It
rained hard the day we visited the battle field of
Gettysburg. This trip we took in company with an
old friend of Calvin’s, a veteran of the war. Not
less interesting were the surroundings of his second
home, the “Hermitage.” Almost more noteworthy
than the house was the big “bank-barn,”—the mows
for hay, the bins for grain, the floor where he used to
ride on horseback around and around over the grain
in order to thresh it, the old workbench, and, above,
the swallows’ nests. The rush of memory was so
strong that the white-haired missionary could not
keep back the tears. He showed me the little old
schoolhouse, the stream near by, the old flour mill,
within an inner room of which he and his boy companions
used to meet on winter evenings around a
“ten-plate” stove for debate. Another place of great
interest was the old haunted churchyard, the fence of
which he had mounted to fight his battle with the
ghosts, and from which he got down a conqueror,
never more to fear the face of man or devil.
But the most sacred of all the spots which they
visited was the grave of his mother, in the cemetery at
Wooster, Ohio.
From Seattle they sailed to Japan, and thence after
a short season of fellowship with the venerable translator
of the Old Testament, Bishop Schereschewsky,
and with other friends, they came back to Tengchow.
XV FACING THE NEW CHINA
“China is a great land, and has a great future before it. I
am thankful that I have had the opportunity to do what I
could to make it what it ought to be. The Church of God is
bound to have a great triumph here, with great trials in the
process.”—LETTER TO JAMES MOONEY, November 27, 1906.
When Dr. Mateer wrote that letter, the new
China had not come. Nor has it yet appeared.
The utmost that can be said confidently
is that there are signs of a spring thaw in the
vast sheet of ice that for so many centuries has held
that country in fetters. Some great rifts can be seen in
the surface and sounds that are indicative of movement
can be heard. People who stand on the shore, and some
of those who are on the ice, are shouting, “Off at last!”
It seems scarcely possible that the apparent thaw
shall not continue until the streams are cleared and
the land is warmed into new life by the ascending sun.
But how long it will be before this is accomplished
it is almost useless for the best-informed men to
attempt to forecast. When the ice does really go,
will it be with a sudden rush that will carry with it
great injury to much that is well worth preserving?
Or will the change come so quietly and gradually
that the ice will sink without a tremor, and the frost
will gently melt away into waters that only freshen
the soil? Probably the new China is not far away;
as sure as progress is the law of civilization and enlightenment
in the world, it cannot be postponed much
longer. Dr. Mateer lived long enough to recognize
the signs of its approach, and while he was glad because
of this, he also was deeply anxious.
His direct acquaintance with the old China extended
over the long period of forty years,—from his
arrival at Tengchow in 1863 to his return from his
last furlough, in 1903. During the five years immediately
preceding his death he was face to face with
the signs indicative of the China that is to be. He
was therefore exceptionally qualified to speak intelligently
concerning the present situation in that
country; for it is not the man who now for the first
time finds himself there, amid the demand for railroads,
and telegraphs, and up-to-date navy and army,
and schools, who is most competent to interpret the
movements of the hour. We are more likely to learn
the whole truth if we turn to veterans like Sir Robert
Hart and Dr. W. A. P. Martin and Dr. Mateer, who
by almost lifelong experience know the real mind
and heart of China; which surely, notwithstanding
the occurrences of to-day, have not been completely
changed. On the one hand, there can be no doubt of
the love which Dr. Mateer had for the people of China.
To promote their welfare in this world as well as in
the next he gave himself to the uttermost all his long
time of residence among them, and when death confronted
him at last, his only reluctance to obey that
call of his Master was because he would be unable to
complete what he regarded as perhaps his greatest
service for them. As we have already seen, in his
explanation of the causes of the Boxer outbreak, notwithstanding
his heartbreak and indignation for the
horrors and outrages perpetrated, he lays bare the
secret of it, as consisting in part of the wrongs done
by foreign nations and persons to China and the Chinese.
There were hundreds and perhaps thousands
in Shantung who revered him as a father, and confided
in him as they did in almost no other human being.
I mention this side of his attitude because there is
another that must be brought out here so clearly that
no failure to see it is possible. He never allowed
himself to be blinded as to radical faults of the most
serious nature in the Chinese. It was about the same
time as his entrance on his missionary work that
Americans were set agog by the “Burlingame Mission,”
and indulged in very extravagant notions of
the civilization of old China and very rosy anticipations
of the future. Even missionaries caught the
fever of the hour, and for home publication wrote
articles that seconded this view. This was so completely
foreign to the reality, as Dr. Mateer saw it,
that he responded with an elaborate article in which
he calmly punctured these current notions. It was
the fashion then to regard the Chinese as leading
the world in past ages, but in his opinion in none of
their boasted achievements do they deserve such
credit. Largely they have been imitators; and in
the realm of their own inventions and discoveries
and organizations they have seldom shown themselves
capable of making the applications that ought to
have been so patent to them that they could not miss
them. Perhaps—writing as he did in reply to overdrawn
appreciations on the other side—he may have
fallen into the opposite mistake, to some degree.
Perhaps also in later years he would not have gone
quite so far in the direction he then took; but he
never wavered in his opinion that in the lapse of ages
during which the Chinese had lived so exclusively
within themselves, characteristics that are racial have
been developed, some of which must be overcome, and
others of which must be immensely transformed,
before China can take her place among the advanced
nations of the world. Also, ignorance, prejudice and
superstition stand in the way, and cannot suddenly
be dispelled. He continued to believe that, notwithstanding
the present rush to introduce western appliances,
the hatred of the foreigner, except among a
minority, remains in the heart of officials and people.
He believed too that, because of their faithlessness to
obligations which they had assumed toward other
governments, the apparent aggressions of foreign
nations were not always and altogether without a
measure of justification. Chinese law he considered
to be still so much a mere whim of officials, often
corrupt, that the time has not yet come for an American
citizen, whether missionary or merchant or
mechanic, to be left safely to the uncertainties of a
native court.
Dr. Mateer was one of the leading “makers of the
new China.” It is because of his “Mandarin Lessons”
that it is now, in comparison with the olden
times, so easy to acquire the language; thus not
only the missionary but also the agents of modern
civilization are helped to gain speedy access to the
people. He was the first to plant a college in the
great province of Shantung, the birthplace of Confucius
and Mencius, and still the center to which the
race turns as that from which has emanated their
most dominant cult. He took the lead, even of all
the missionary colleges, in the place which he assigned
to physical science. With his own money he built a
museum which he described as “a kind of polytechnic,
for exhibiting foreign sciences and machinery to
Chinese students and visitors.” There they could
see the appliances of steam and of electricity at work,
including a model railroad, and the telephone and
telegraph. When the governor of the province organized
his university at the capital, it was the man
whom Dr. Mateer had made his successor in the
college at Tengchow who was at first placed at its
head, and five of the graduates were chosen to fill
chairs in the new institution. He prepared text-books
in mathematics, for which there is an enormous
demand in the schools which are supplanting those
of the olden time. To him more than to any other
individual is due the translation of the New Testament
into a form of the language which is just as intelligible
to the man who can read but little, as to the educated;
and which cannot be widely circulated without starting
upward tendencies more mighty than those of
railroads and western machinery. It would be preposterous
to claim for any one person that he has been
the maker of the new China; but there are not very
many who, as to the mighty transformation apparently
not far distant, rank so high up as Dr. Mateer.
Thus far in holding him up as one of these leaders
I have not mentioned his influence as an effective
missionary in the sphere usually occupied by the representatives
of the gospel; and for the reason that, as
to this, he is a sharer with a multitude of others. At
present there must be about four thousand men and
women—ordained ministers, and lay men and women—in
that line of Christian service in China, and there
are about two hundred thousand Chinese Christians.
These, though scattered far and wide among the
hundreds of millions of the population, are sufficient
to be powerfully felt on the side of genuine progress.
Though in rapidly lessening numbers, their presence
stretches back to the coming of Robert Morrison, a
hundred years ago. Dr. Mateer’s own judgment as
to the relation of the missionary work to the present
situation is well worth attention. In an article written
by request, about nine months before his death, he
said:
The nation is in a state of transition which, when
compared with her past and her traditions, is nothing
short of marvelous. Who would have predicted
thirty-five years ago that such a state of things as the
present would so soon prevail? God has used a
variety of powerful forces to awaken China from her
long sleep, not the least of which have been the presence
and influence of the missionary. Aside from his
main business, which is the conversion of individuals
and the upbuilding of churches, he has had a powerful
influence in a number of important matters. First,
his residence in all parts of inland China has done far
more than is generally known to remove prejudice
and to familiarize the people with foreign ideas and
things. Second, he has been a main factor in starting
the anti-foot-binding movement that is now sweeping
over the land. Third, he has been the chief mover
in the remarkable anti-opium reformation that is now
enlisting the utmost effort of the Chinese government.
Lastly, in the intellectual awakening, and in starting
the wonderful educational propaganda now being
pushed forward by the government, he has been a
potent factor. Missionaries have made the text-books,
and the graduates of their schools have set the
pace for this remarkable movement; and this has
been done notwithstanding the intense prejudice that
exists against Christianity and its professors.
Of the fact that he was face to face with a state of
things that promised tremendous changes he was
fully conscious. No man could have been more alive
to his environment during these last years of his life.
May 2, 1905, he wrote to a generous friend in the
United States: “The state of things in China to-day
presents a great contrast with what it was when I
arrived here forty-one and a half years ago. Then
everything was dead and stagnant; now all is life and
motion. It is just fairly beginning, it is true, but
there is the promise of great things in the near future.”
September 1, 1907, in another letter to a friend, he
says: “This great and massive people, so long below
the horizon of the western world,—a misty, unknown
land,—is looming large in the east, and the eyes of the
west are on it. China is awakening from the sleep of
ages. Her senses are still dull, benumbed by the
traditional customs and conservative follies of the
past, but her eyes are opening more and more, day by
day. It is true she still wants to sleep on, but she
cannot. The clamor of the world’s progress dins in
her ears. Giant hands are shaking her. Specters
fill her imagination and groundless fears make her
troubled. She essays to rise, but has no strength.
She is growing frantic at the realization of her own
weakness and incompetence.”
CELEBRATING DR. MATEER’S SEVENTIETH BIRTHDAY
Facing the new China he, while gladdened on the
whole by the outlook, yet saw grave dangers in the
way. Some of these are due, in his estimation, to
characteristics that have rooted themselves very
deeply in the spirit of the people at large. In his
article on “Education in China” he said:
It is a peculiarity of the Chinese character that they
are very hard to convince of the utility of a new thing,
and must always be doubly sure before they decide
to act; but as soon as the decision is made, they at
once grow recklessly impatient for the consummation.
The old educational methods and ideals are now
abolished and the government is rushing headlong
into new and hitherto untried measures. They issue
commands to their subordinates without providing
the means of carrying them out. The result is a
chaos of more or less futile effort, attended by burdensome
taxes and illegal exactions that produce disaffection
and rebellion. The lack of competent teachers
handicaps the whole movement. To the eye of a
western educator most of their primary and secondary
schools are little short of a farce. Mission schools
have trained a large number of competent teachers,
but in most cases the prejudice against Christianity
is so strong that heathen schools will not use them.
This prejudice is much stronger in the secondary
schools than it is in the provincial colleges and universities.
The high officials generally take more
liberal views, and they are free from the social ostracism
that prevents a small official or a private gentleman
from employing a Christian teacher.
On account of the characteristics just described,
while he rejoiced in the immense progress which
Christianity was making both in the conversion of
increasing thousands and also in its indirect influence
over multitudes more, he had anxieties as to the near
future of the church in that land. Writing to one of
the secretaries of the American Bible Society, in
January, 1906, he said: “If I understand the signs
of the time in China, it will not be many years—I
put it at ten to fifteen—until the Chinese church will
declare her independence of the missionaries, pay
her own expenses, and make her own creed....
What this creed will be, will depend very much on
the kind and number of preachers we train in the
meantime.” The speeches made at the Chinese
Students’ Alliance, held at Hartford, August 24, 1910,
both by the Chinese and by Americans, indicate a
very strong tendency in this direction.
In view of the entire situation, national and religious,
he iterated and reiterated that the most
imperative duty of missionaries in China at present
is the training of native preachers and teachers on a
scale and in a manner that will fit them to meet the
emergency, and to take advantage of the opportunity
for the evangelization of the land and the starting of
the church that soon must be, on a voyage that will
not, through lack of chart and compass and proper
guidance, wreck itself on the way. Here are some of
his deliberate utterances within the last three years
of his life:
Allow me to say that at the present time in China I
regard schools and the training of teachers and
preachers as the chief thing,—much more important
than the founding of new stations, with expensive
buildings, in order to cover new territory. This is
not a passing thought, but is said advisedly. The
time for training these teachers and preachers is
limited; before many years the native church will
declare her independence, when all will depend on the
intelligence and soundness of her leaders.
Again taking a view that includes the church, but
that is so broad as to sweep over the entire national
situation, he said:
“China is fascinated by the power, skill, and knowledge
of the west. She covets these things, and
clamors impatiently for them, but they do not come
at her call. She has caught up the idea that education
will solve the problem and speedily lift her into the
family of nations. She issues edicts to annul the old
and inaugurate the new. She commands the opening
of schools in every county, not realizing that without
teachers, or methods, or money efficient schools are
impossible. True to her character, she is deceiving
herself with a sham; a mere pretense of knowledge.
The old is passing faster than the new is coming, and
there are ominous signs of danger ahead. There are
already a good many competent Christian teachers
in China, and very few others; but Chinese conservatism
hates and fears Christianity, and will not employ
Christian teachers if it can possibly be avoided.
China has still one great and fundamental lesson to
learn, namely: that Christianity is not her enemy,
but her friend; that faithful and honest men are not
made by simply teaching them geometry and chemistry.
She will presently learn, however, that Christianity
holds the only patent there is for the construction
of high moral character. She resents the
idea now, but sooner or later she will be compelled to
admit it. In the meantime she needs men to teach
her, and to show her the way. Never perhaps in the
world’s history was the saying of Christ more conspicuously
exemplified: “The harvest truly is plenteous,
but the laborers are few.”
Ever since he set foot on the soil of that country he
had kept on pleading for reinforcements in his work,—now
a physician, then a teacher, again a man capable
of overseeing mechanical operations, and always more
ordained missionaries. He entertained very common-sense
notions as to the sort of reinforcements that are
desirable. He says in an old letter directed to theological
students in the seminary where he was trained:
“I might add more especially that missionaries should
not be men of one idea, unless perchance that idea be
a zeal for saving souls. The men needed are those
who have well-balanced, practical minds.... The
man of vivacious temperament, pleasing address,
ready wit, and ready utterance, other things being
equal, will make the best missionary.” The language
he did not regard as at all beyond the acquisition of
any person with fair ability and faithful application,
though he recognized more than a moderate measure
of these as essential to the writing of books. As the
new China loomed up before him, his cry for help
became, if possible, more earnest; it came from the
very depths of his soul, and with an intensity which
words could not adequately express.
Before proceeding to relate the story of his death,
can I do better than to give the last of these appeals
of which we have the records? The letter from which
I quote is dated Wei Hsien, September 1, 1907, just
a year before his Master called him home. He said:
Tell the young men of America for me, that China
now presents to the church the greatest opportunity
of the ages. God has opened the door,—opened it
wide. Three hundred and fifty millions of people
are ready to hear the gospel message. This door has
not been opened without great strife and effort. In
the face of steady and persistent opposition, and
through much suffering and bloodshed, a large and
lasting impression has been already made. The dark
and discouraging days are over and the future is
bright with promise. As I look back over the first
twenty-five years of my missionary life, it seems like
a troubled dream. The last fifteen years have
wrought wonders in China. Old customs and prejudices
are giving way. The bright dawn of better
things is upon us. The most conservative and immovable
people in the world, persistently wedded to
the old ways, are getting used to new things, and
are ready to accept whatever promises profit and
prosperity. All ears are open, and the preaching of
the gospel is nowhere opposed or resisted. I often
wish I were young again, just ready to start in
on the bright opening campaign. In a large sense
the future of the church and of the world lies
wrapped up in this great people. Why in the
providence of God the gospel of salvation has not
long ere this reached this oldest and greatest nation
is an unexplained mystery. These unconverted millions
of the Mongolian race will presently come
into their inheritance of truth and grace, and then
who shall say what they will become, and do? Their
fecundity, their physical stamina, their patient persistence
and intellectual vigor, are factors that will
count in the world’s future history.... As I
look at the situation in the light of the past, and
forecasting the probabilities of the future, a more
inviting field for the exercise of consecrated talent
has rarely, if ever, presented itself in the history of
civilization. Very few people in the church in the
west understand and appreciate the present condition
of things in China. The political forces and
problems are better understood than the moral and
religious. It is still true that “the children of the
world are wiser in their generation than the children
of light.” The faith of the long, old centuries is
passing rapidly away, but what shall the new faith
be? This is the great Christian question of the hour.
The young men of China are mad to learn English,
because there is money in it. With English come
books and newspapers, sowing the seeds of agnosticism,
and skepticism, and rationalism, and so forth.
The cry is, Who will champion the truth? Who will
administer the antidote? Who will uphold the cross?
Who will testify for Christ? The call is urgent.
Satan is in the field. The opportunity is passing.
The time is strategic. The changes of many years
are now crowded into one. Young men, it is time
to be up and doing! The march of events will not
wait on your tardiness. Who will hear the Master’s
trumpet call?
XVI CALLED UP HIGHER
“I have given my life to China: I expect to live there, to
die there, and to be buried there.”—FROM HIS FAREWELL ADDRESS
IN THE CENTRAL PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, Allegheny,
Pa., 1862.
“I expect to die in heathen China, but I expect to rise in
Christian China.”—ANOTHER FAREWELL ADDRESS.
In the chapter on the Mandarin revision we left
the committee on the Old Testament, in the
summer of 1908, at work on Genesis and the
Psalms, down at Chefoo, with the Goodrich and the
Mateer family keeping house together. Dr. Goodrich
had been the dean of the Union Theological
Seminary at Peking, and so was thoroughly versed
in the educational phase of missions, still occupying
so large a place in the heart and mind of Dr. Mateer.
These two men also had served together on the revision
of the New Testament, from the beginning to the end.
They were in many features of their character very
different from each other, and yet in their common
labors and in their convictions they were in thorough
harmony. Mrs. Goodrich and Mrs. Mateer had come
out on the same steamer in 1879, to join the forces
of the American Board, as unmarried missionaries;
and the subsequent years had served to cement their
friendship. The house in which they resided at
Chefoo during that summer looked out on a charming
scene: the “island,” the bay, and the passage, with
craft of all kinds, Chinese junks and sampans, and
steamers, small torpedo boats, and big battleships
of every nation, either riding at anchor or coming
up into the harbor. From the back windows the
eye rested on a jagged range of hills, crowned at the
top by a curious wall, so like the views of the Great
Wall shown in pictures that ignorant sailors imagined
it to be that famous structure. One can easily understand
that under such circumstances the two families
greatly enjoyed the earlier part of the session of the
committee. Dr. Goodrich, in the following quotation
from the article which he published in the January
issue of “The Chinese Recorder,” in memory of Dr.
Mateer, had in mind his entire acquaintance with
him, extending over thirty-five years, but it is tinged
especially with the recollection of the preceding summer.
He says:
Much of the time we have been together in the protracted
daily sessions of the committee, as well as in
the long evening walks, when we talked on everything
between the zenith and the nadir; for then his
thoughts were “ready to fly East as West, whichever
way besought them.” If he were not widely read,
he had thought widely and deeply, being at once conservative,
progressive, and original. He had strong
opinions, and was at times severe and stern in maintaining
them. But he loved those of a contrary
opinion with a true and deep affection. From first
to last he was a royal friend. Dr. Mateer thought
naturally in terms of logic and mathematics, but not
without a side in his nature for poetry and sentiment.
Dr. Mateer’s character, especially during the later
years, was constantly mellowing, and the past summer,
which our two families spent together in our own
“hired house” at Chefoo, must ever be remembered
as one of the happiest periods of our lives, without a
break or jar to mar its enjoyment. Was it a sort of
unconscious preparation for the sweeter joys and more
perfect fellowship in the dear upper home?
Dr. Mateer worked on with his usual untiring
faithfulness, during the last summer, though not
quite well at times. How he lived in the Psalms,
upon which he bestowed loving labor! Sometimes
he would look out from his little study to the room
which held all too closely his beloved wife, who has
followed the Bible revision with an interest scarcely
less intense than his own, and consult with her on
some difficult phrase, or tell her of some beautiful
figure he had succeeded in translating.
In the early morning we took a dip in the sea—he
was a good swimmer—and after he had “talked with
Him,” at six o’clock he was ready for his teacher.
In the evening his walks were less regular and shorter
than in other years.
In explanation of one sentence of the preceding it
needs to be stated that by an accident Mrs. Mateer
was then so disabled that she kept her room.
During the summer he suffered from a chronic
tendency to dysenteric diarrhea, yet it was not until
well toward the close of the session of the Committee
that he remained in bed for the entire day. At first
he worked on there, upon the translation of the
Psalms, which he was especially anxious to give to
the people in such language that they could readily
catch it with the ear, and that the Psalms might be
to the Chinese church the rich heritage they are to
the English-speaking race. At length it became
evident that his case was fast becoming so critical
that if medical aid under the most favorable conditions
could save his life, the very best that could be
had must be secured at once. So it was decided that
he ought to go on a steamer down to Tsingtao in the
German concession. It would require twenty-four
hours to make the trip; but when asked whether he
was able to endure the journey, he replied: “I must.
I shall die if I remain here.”
The necessity for the change was not due to any
lack of medical care or friendly ministrations at
Chefoo; it was made in order to secure the superior
advantages which a good hospital affords. Fortunately
the voyage was quiet. His wife went with
him; and Dr. and Mrs. Goodrich also accompanied
them. It was Tuesday night when they reached
Tsingtao, and friends were at the landing; and, supported
in loving arms, he was carried at once in a
carriage to the Faber Hospital, where Dr. Wunsch,
a skilled physician, exhausted his efforts to save him.
Dr. Hayes was already there, and at Dr. Mateer’s
request spent each day in the hospital.
Friday of that week was the anniversary of their
marriage, but it was impracticable for his wife to be
brought to his bedside. Saturday it became evident
that the end was not far away, and she was permitted
to see him; and he seemed so comforted by her presence,
though he was too weak to talk much, that they
allowed her to stay. In response to a telegram, his
brother Robert and Madge, his wife, came at once.
Saturday afternoon his mind wandered, and seemed
to run on the affairs of the college. Sunday morning
he asked Robert to pray with him; and in connection
with this one of the great passions that had long
possessed him manifested itself. As on the journey
down on the boat he lay exhausted, he had said to
Dr. Goodrich: “They must do their best to cure me
at the hospital, so that I can finish the Psalms. That
is all I have to live for now”—meaning, of course,
by this, only the work to which he had given himself.
Now, when his brother in his prayer asked that the
sufferer at whose bedside he knelt might be given an
abundant entrance into the heavenly rest, Dr. Mateer
cried out: “Raise your faith a notch higher, Robert.
Pray that I may be spared to finish the translation of
the Psalms.” Then he asked that Dr. Hayes be
called in, and he requested him to pray for this; and
when this was done he added, “O Lord, may this
prayer be answered!”
On Sabbath when some of his “boys,” alumni of
the Shantung College, who were living in the town
came to see him, he was so weak that he could only
say to them, “Good-by.”
All those last days he took great comfort in prayer.
As he gradually went down into the shadow of death,
his faith continued firm and bright. To an inquiry
by his wife as to his trust in Christ, he replied: “Yes,
I have nothing to fear.” Some time before the end
he said to his brother Robert, “I have laid up all in
my Father’s keeping.” The very last words which he
was heard distinctly to articulate were indicative of a
passion that possessed his soul even far more strongly
than his desire to complete his work on the Scriptures.
Those who knew him most intimately recognized in him
a man of extraordinary reverence for God,—for him
whom, from his childhood’s memorizing of the catechism
on to the end, he believed to be infinite, eternal,
and unchangeable in his being, wisdom, power, holiness,
justice, goodness, and truth. He was one of
those who in the public services of a house of worship
always stood in prayer, though about him all might
be sitting in their seats. He thought no other posture
except kneeling or standing appropriate in this act
of social worship. His whole conception of religion,
theoretical and practical, was saturated with a holy
fear of God. To him God was his heavenly Father,
who has manifested himself above all else in the
person and work of Jesus Christ, and unto whom he
constantly turned with holy boldness; but whenever
he came consciously into the divine presence he was
devoutly reverent. It was in keeping with his whole
religious life, therefore, that his last audible words,
were “Holy! Holy! True and Mighty!” Then—not
long afterward—he fell asleep. He died at 10:25
in the morning of September 28, 1908.
Among his papers a little book was found which
when it was opened proved to be a collection of private
prayers recorded in 1863, the year in which he went
to China. The last of these prayers is the following:
Permit not the great adversary to harass my soul,
in the last struggle, but make me a conqueror, and
more than a conqueror in this fearful conflict. I
humbly ask that my reason may be continued to
the last, and if it be Thy will, that I may be so comforted
and supported that I may leave testimony in
favor of the reality of religion, and thy faithfulness
in fulfilling thy gracious promises, and that others
of thy servants who may follow after, may be encouraged
by my example to commit themselves boldly
to the guidance and keeping of the Shepherd of Israel.
And when my spirit leaves this clay tenement, Lord
Jesus receive it. Send some of the blessed angels
to conduct my inexperienced soul to the mansion
which thy love has prepared. And oh, let me be so
situated, though in the lowest rank, that I may behold
thy glory!
This prayer, which in his young manhood he had
recorded in that little book, was fulfilled so far as its
petitions concerned his end upon earth; and who
doubts that equally fulfilled were also those petitions
which looked forward to his entrance upon the eternal
life?
At Tsingtao a funeral service was held in the little
Chinese Presbyterian chapel. Among those present
were Rev. Dr. Bergen and Rev. W. P. Chalfant, from
the Shantung Presbyterian Mission, then holding a
meeting at Wei Hsien, representatives from the Basel
and Berlin Protestant Missions, and a large number of
Chinese. After the casket was placed in the church,
former students of the Shantung College came in
with long wreaths of immortelles, and so festooned
these about the coffin that they could remain on the
journey yet to be taken. Addresses were delivered
in both English and Chinese, and were full of appreciation
for the missionary just gone up higher. The
Chinese speakers were some of his own “boys,” who
then testified to their appreciation of their “old
master,” as they were accustomed to call him. After
the service the casket was taken to the same steamer
on which he had been brought down, and thus was
removed to Chefoo, in care of his brother Robert and
Mr. Mason Wells. That evening the casket was
escorted by a number of Chinese Christian young men
to the rooms of the Naval Young Men’s Christian
Association; and the next morning to Nevius Hall,
on Temple Hill, where it remained until the time of
burial, covered with flowers provided by loving hands.
During this delay the missionaries up at Tengchow
had, in response to a telegram, exhumed the remains
of Julia, and caused them to be transferred to Chefoo,
where they were placed in the vault prepared in the
cemetery. Her monument, however, was left standing
in the original burial place, and the name of Dr.
Mateer has also been inscribed on it.
The funeral service was at 2.45 P.M., on Sabbath;
and the large, new church on Temple Hill was filled
to overflowing. The conduct of this service was in
the hands of the Chinese, Pastor Wang of the Temple
Hill church presiding, and Pastor Lwan of the Tengchow
church assisting. In a sermon based on Revelation
14:13, Pastor Wang spoke of Dr. Mateer’s
long and active life, of his power as a preacher who
addressed himself straight to the hearts of the people,
and of the enduring character of the work he had
accomplished. Rev. Lwan followed in an address
in which he dwelt upon the large number of people
who would mourn the death of Dr. Mateer, and the
many different places where memorial services would
be held; on his adaptability to all classes of men in
order to win them to Christ, and on his unfailing
assurance that the gospel would finally triumph in
China.
The English service followed immediately afterward
in the cemetery; but on account of the large
number of foreign missionaries who had come, and
the limited space, announcement had to be made
before leaving the church that of the many Chinese
who were present, only those who had been Dr.
Mateer’s students could be admitted. One of the
great regrets incident to the burial was that Dr.
Corbett, who had come out to China with him on
that long first voyage, and who had been his close
associate on the field in so much of the work, and who
cherished for him the warmest regard, could not be
present. He was away in a country field when death
came to Dr. Mateer, and the news did not reach him
in time for him to return to the funeral. In his
absence Rev. Dr. W. O. Elterich, of Chefoo, conducted
the service. After he had spoken, Rev. J. P. Irwin,
of Tengchow,—who had been associated with Dr.
Mateer in the same station, and who as a consequence
knew him intimately,—bore his testimony especially
to the unceasing activity of the life of him whose
body was about to be lowered into the grave, and the
impossibility that his work should have been finished
even if he had lived to be a hundred years old; to
the warm heart hidden beneath an exterior that did
not always reveal it; and to the purpose now fulfilled,
but formed nearly half a century before by him and
by her whose remains now rest at his side, to spend
their whole lives in giving the gospel to China, and
to be buried in its soil.
Their graves are in a very beautiful spot, directly
in front of the upper walk leading in from the gate,
and in close proximity to those of Dr. Nevius and of
others of their missionary friends and associates.
AT THE GRAVE OF DR MATEER
The tributes paid to his character and work were
so numerous, both out in China and in the United
States and in other Christian lands, that all that is
practicable here is to make some selections that may
serve as representatives. That of Dr. Corbett deserves
the place of precedence. Their strong attachment
was mutual. In an article filling several
columns of “The Presbyterian Banner,” Dr. Corbett
paid his tribute to his deceased friend. Much of this
is of necessity a condensed rehearsal of his life and
of the leading characteristics therein revealed. He
concludes by saying:
Personally I shall ever esteem it one of the greatest
blessings of my life that it has been my privilege to
have enjoyed the friendship, and of being a colaborer
with this great man for nearly fifty years. More
than forty years ago it was my privilege to spend
with him weeks and months on long itinerating
journeys, preaching daily to hundreds who had never
heard the gospel, and at no place finding Christians
to cheer our hearts. Often after a long day of exhaustion,
preaching in the open air at great markets
and on crowded streets, in the evening we would
kneel together at the inn and earnestly pray for God’s
richest blessing upon our efforts to bring men to a
saving knowledge of the truth. Often the thought
came into our mind, Can these dry bones live? Shall
we live to see Christian churches established and
shepherded by Chinese pastors? His unwavering
faith in the ultimate and universal triumph of the
gospel in China was a tower of strength to all associated
with him. When the news of his death reached
me at our inland station, the thought rushed into my
mind: “Know ye not that there is a prince and a
great man fallen this day in Israel?”
The world will ever seem more lonely without him.
His sympathy and help could always be counted on
in every kind of true missionary work. His labors
were crowned with success and honor continuously,
until he was summoned by the Master to a higher and
wider sphere where his saints serve him.
It seems to me that the man who is entitled to be
heard next is the Rev. Dr. W. M. Hayes, now of
Tsingchow fu, but formerly—after the resignation of
Dr. Mateer—the head of the Tengchow College.
There is no one of his associates on the mission field
in whom Dr. Mateer had greater confidence; and
for years they were in such constant contact that they
knew each other most thoroughly. A few days after
the burial a memorial service was held at Wei Hsien,
and at this Dr. Hayes made an extended address
before an audience including the students of the
college. The respective lines of thought which he
first elaborated were his faithfulness to Christ’s
service, his resolution, his attention to great matters,
and his industry. In the conclusion he said:
Let us strive to make his strong spiritual qualities
our own. Of these, the most conspicuous were three:
First, his faith. The morning he died, replying to an
inquiry of his brother, he said, “I have left those
things long ago in the hands of my Father.” Later,
and only a few hours before his death, he said, as if
speaking to himself, “We are justified of the Lord
Jesus.” It is not strange that with such a faith he
fell asleep as a little child would in its mother’s arms.
Second, his reverential spirit. Though he did not
fear the face of man, and was outspoken in his convictions,
yet, especially in his later years, as one who
had served with him on the Translation Committee
from the first remarked, his reverence in approaching
the divine presence was apparent to all. This was
characteristic of him to the end. The last distinct
utterance which he made was, “Holy! Holy! Holy!
True and Mighty.” Lying prone on his couch, it
seemed as if he saw the King in his beauty, and the
vision filled his soul with godly fear. Third, his forgiving
spirit. Being a man of decided views, and disapproving
of what did not seem to him wise and good,
he did not always approve of the course taken by his
colleagues; yet if convinced that a man was working
with a single heart for the interest of Christ’s kingdom,
he was ready to forgive, and to hope for the best. He
loved the Lord who had forgiven him, and so loved
those who had offended against himself. This
extended both to those with whom he labored, and
to those for whom he labored. One of his marked
characteristics was not to give over any man who had
fallen away, and he was always ready to give him
another chance.
I have already noticed the intimacy of Dr. Chauncey
Goodrich, of Peking, with Dr. Mateer. The tribute
which he paid his long-time friend, and his associate
and captain on the Mandarin Revision Committee
through the many years of their labors, is perhaps the
most comprehensive of all that have been published.
It filled fourteen pages of “The Chinese Recorder,”
and touches all the leading features of the life and
work of Dr. Mateer. What he says as to the Mandarin
version has especial weight. His testimony was:
In the interest of truth it must be added that no
man gave so much time and hard work, or dug quite
so deep. His effort to produce a translation which
should match the original, to translate the figures and
preserve their beauty, was extraordinary.... At
these sessions Dr. Mateer by his strong and masterful
personality, as well as by the thoroughness of his
preparation, did much to set the style of the work.
Turning to some of his leading characteristics, he
proceeded thus:
First, his personality. In the Conference of 1890,
Dr. Wright, secretary of the British and Foreign
Bible Society, was with us. He remarked that “of
all the men present at that conference, there were two
whose personality most impressed him.” One of
these was Dr. Mateer. He bore himself like a sort
of prince among men, facile princeps. He was born
to lead, not to follow. Having worked out his own
conclusions, he was so sure of them that he expected,
almost demanded, their acceptance by others. Yet
he was not arrogant and was truly humble. Moreover,
he could ask forgiveness for words that he felt
had been too hasty or too harsh, feeling much broken
by giving pain to a friend. In this he showed his
greatness. He could also forgive and forget. But he
was still a leader by the very force of his personality.
He had the quality of perseverance in a large degree.
Having undertaken a work, he held to it with unwavering
and unconquerable persistence to the end, ...
and that not only because he gripped the work, but
because the work gripped him. Had his life been
spared, he would have worked steadily on through
the Old Testament till the last verse of Malachi was
finished, and the whole was carefully reviewed. Of
Dr. Mateer’s habit of working till the end was reached
Dr. Hamilton writes: “Not many months ago, at a
meeting of the Shantung Board of Directors, we had a
considerable amount of unfinished business, and the
week was hastening to its close. No one had more
work awaiting him at home than the Doctor. Yet
when the question of the time of our dispersion was
raised, he said: ‘I have always made it a rule, when
I attend meetings of this kind, to finish up the business
in hand, no matter how long it takes.’” United to this
quality of perseverance was a kindred quality of
thoroughness, that appeared in everything he attempted.
Dr. Mateer possessed a rugged strength of character.
He was almost Spartan in his ability to endure hardships,
and in his careless scorn for the amenities and
“elegant superfluities” of modern life. Yet “beneath
a rugged and somewhat austere exterior” he
had a heart of remarkable tenderness. He was a
block of granite with the heart of a woman.
Rev. Mr. Baller also had been associated with Dr.
Mateer in the revision of the Scriptures since 1900.
He says of him:
He has left behind him an example of strenuous
toil that it would be difficult to parallel; of iron
constitution, he was able to do an amount of work that
would have killed most men. His devotion to the
cause of Christ was beyond praise. His recreation
consisted in change of occupation, and he made all
tend to the one end.
Ada, who in the last eight years of his life stood
nearer to him by far than any other, and knew his
innermost life, puts on record this supplement as to
some of his traits not so fully brought out by the
testimony of his friends:
Next to his reverence, the most noteworthy feature
of his character was his love of truth: truth in the
abstract, scientific truth and truth in the common
conversation of life, but especially in matters of
religion. He had no patience with the popular
maxim that it does not matter what a man believes,
so long as he is sincere. “Is there no such thing as
truth?” he would say. “Does it make no difference
to a man whether the bank in which he invests is
broken? Men are not such idiots in the ordinary
affairs of life.” If it came to a choice between a polite
lie and the impolite truth, he would choose the latter.
He exalted truth above every other virtue. His
love of it freed him from that trammeling of conventionality
which binds so many. He would be the
slave of no man-made custom.
Associated with this characteristic, perhaps a result
of it, was the kindred love of freedom. One of his
favorite texts was, “And ye shall know the truth,
and the truth shall make you free.” This sturdy
independence he sought to impress on all minds coming
under his influence. He had no patience with that
kind of education that simply trained the Chinese to
become “lackeys of the foreigners.” How his lips
would curl as he muttered that phrase! He would
waste money often in trying to help some one to
assertive, manly work in independent lines, rather
than as an employee. This sturdy force in his character
was like the magnetic crane, which lifts pieces
of iron, even though they have been hidden in the
ground. It compelled the manhood in other men to
assert itself; though hidden from view, yet to burst
from its covering, and to be drawn up higher.
As already noted, the West Shantung Mission was
in session at Wei Hsien when the tidings of Dr.
Mateer’s death came; and before they adjourned
they adopted a highly appreciative minute concerning
him. In it they said, among other equally strong
tributes to his worth:
No one ever went to him in trouble without finding
sympathy and help. Frugal in his style of living,
he gave generously of his personal means to many a
needy man; and he made many considerable gifts
to the college and to other departments of the work
he so much loved. His name will long be a fragrant
memory in our midst, and the Chinese will more and
more, in the years to come, rise up and call him
blessed.
The English Baptist Mission at their first meeting
after his death adopted resolutions expressive of
their deep sense of loss. One of these will serve as
an example of all:
Combined with great strength of will and an enthusiasm
which overcame all difficulties and opposition
which stood in the way of the accomplishment of
the great and arduous tasks, he was endowed with
much tenderness of heart and a devoted loyalty to the
gospel. He was a successful educator, a fine administrator,
a powerful preacher, and a distinguished
scholar; and his removal from amongst us has left
a gap which will not soon or easily be filled.
The Presbyterian Board of Foreign Missions, under
whom he had served for forty-five years, adopted an
extended and highly appreciative paper. In one of
the paragraphs, they say:
Dr. Mateer was a man of unusual ability and force
of character; an educator, a scholar, and an executive
of high capacity.... The Board records, with
profound gratitude to God, its sense of the large
usefulness of this great missionary educator. It
mourns that the work is no longer to have the benefit
of his counsel, but it believes that he builded so wisely
and so well that the results of his labors will long
endure, and that his name will always have a prominent
place in the history of missionary work in the
Chinese Empire.
Secretary Brown, of that Board, in a letter to Rev.
Robert Mateer, of Wei Hsien, said: “I regarded him
as one of the great missionaries not only of China,
but of the world.”
Scores upon scores of personal letters, and a large
number of articles published in newspapers and periodicals,
are available as tributes to his work and character.
Necessarily, they repeat what is said in the
quotations already given, though almost every one
makes some valuable addition. Few of them were
meant for publication, and it is not because of a lack
of appreciation that any of them are omitted here.
Shall his biographer add his own estimate of the
work and character of Dr. Mateer? If the writing
of this book has been at all what it ought to be, this
cannot be still needed; for, if he has revealed the inner
and the outer life of this great Christian missionary
as it deserves, and as he has aimed to do, then to turn
back now and rehearse his characteristics would be a
superfluity. Besides, if I begin, where shall I end?
I must tell of his personality; his individuality; of
his physique and of his psychical nature; of his
peculiarities of intellect,—its vigor, versatility and
vision; of his great heart, and the tenderness of it
that was not always externally manifest enough to
command recognition; of his will that yielded never
to numbers or force, but only to truth and duty;
of a conscience whose voice would have made him
defy anything that man could do to him; of a piety
that rooted itself in the sovereignty and in the grace
of Almighty God, and in the redemption which Christ
finished on the cross; of a consecration that laid himself
and all that he could bring upon the altar of divine
service; of the preacher, the teacher, the scholar,
the man of science, the man of business, and of the
son, the husband, the brother, the fellow-disciple and
associate in Christian service; of his economy of
time and of money, and of his generosity; of his
conservatism and his progressiveness; of his singleness
of purpose, his courage, his persistence, his
efficiency; of his weaknesses as well as of his strength;
of his many successes and his few failures; and of how
much more I cannot enumerate. I would be justified
in comparing him with the very foremost of the
servants of Christ, living or dead, who during the
past century have consecrated their lives to the
evangelization of China; or with Verbeck of Japan,
or Duff of India. However, I will here venture
further, only to invite as many as may to look well
into the story of his life; and I am confident that they
will join with me in saying: “This was a Christian;
this was as distinctively a missionary, and as efficient
as anyone of our age; and at the same time this was
as manly a man as our generation has seen.”
In the “Pilgrim’s Progress” we read: “After this it
was noised abroad that Mr. Valiant-for-truth was taken
with a summons by the same post as the other; and
had this for a token that the summons was true,
‘That his pitcher was broken at the fountain.’ When
he understood it he called for his friends, and told
them of it. Then, said he, I am going to my Father’s;
and though with great difficulty I am got thither,
yet now I do not repent me of all the trouble I had
been at to arrive where I am. My sword I give to
him that succeeds me in my pilgrimage, and my
courage and skill to him that may get it. My marks
and scars I carry with me, to be a witness for me that
I have fought His battle who now will be my rewarder.
When the day that he must go hence was come,
many accompanied him to the river side, into which
as he went he said, ‘Death, where is thy sting?’ And
as he went down deeper, he said, ‘Grave, where is
thy victory?’ So he passed over, and all the trumpets
sounded for him on the other side.”