Now began what surely must be almost an unique experience. With universal assent, with gladness from his successor, and without a shadow of uncertainty as to the result, Scott returned in 1915 to take up his residence in Peking, the centre of his old diocese. He found his niece, Mary, established with her brother at Ch'ung Te School, on the site of his own old home, and joined them there, and continued to live there after T. A. Scott had gone to Shantung, until he left Peking in January, 1927, going to England once in this period for the consecration of T. A. Scott, in 1921.

There never was a moment's uneasiness over the presence of a predecessor in the diocese of his successor. It remains surely a beautiful example, to be fully emphasised, of the way in which predecessors ought to stand absolutely aside when they retire,--that is, in their relation to all things for which they used to be responsible. It is a lesson which needs to be learnt by many men even to-day.

To be at hand, to do anything when requested to help, but to cease to lead or embarrass those who lead. To "live the life" deeper and more beautifully, but to feel that the control of all things is in other hands, that is what Scott has taught us exquisitely. In a true sense, the last twelve years of his life are as beautiful and helpful to us as the nearly forty years of his greater activities as a leader and pioneer. It seems to me that in his letters there is now a growing mellowness and peacefulness--the fruit of a man ever growing in grace.

The Scott Memorial Chapel.--Ch'ung Te School, Peking, May 29, 1916. He writes:--"I am just facing what I expect will be my last bit of building work, viz., the erection of a school chapel on these premises. Arnold, of course, will help me much. It is rather interesting that the money has been subscribed in memory of my thirty-three years episcopate, by 'foreign' friends in and connected with China: Legation, Consular, Customs'--and others who have known me in Peking and in China generally; so that the chapel will be the 'Bishop Scott Memorial Chapel.' It is rather nice that I have to build it, and on the spot where twenty years of my life, including the whole of my married life, were passed." (The subscriptions came to about £400.) "Incidentally it is building my own sepulchre, for as soon as it is finished, the big room underneath me ceases to be the chapel, and will become part of this house, which will then probably become the house of another English school-master. Then I shall go--where? It does not trouble me much to find an answer. There is enough to remind us, without that, 'here we have no continuing city.' . . ."

May 6, 1926.--"I have panelled this beautiful little chapel, using the £50 which the bishops at home gave me on my Jubilee, and a little more besides. It is a wonderful improvement and finish."

It may be stated at once that the school was his home to the end.

On SS. Simon and Jude's Day, 1916, the Chapel was consecrated by Bishop Norris. At the service, Bishop Norris spoke as follows:--"It is but fitting before we proceed further with the service that I should address a few words to you who are present with us to-day to represent the donors of this building. We thank you for your presence. We thank you and all those whom you represent for your generous gifts; but, above all, we thank God who put it into your hearts thus to honour him from whom all good things do come, while you honour his servant, my revered predecessor in this episcopal office. ... It has been designed by him whose friendship it commemorates: every brick in it has been laid under his watchful eye. Here within a stone's throw of this very spot, where some of you knew him years ago, amid, as it were, so many tender memories of the happy home to which he brought his bride in 1889. And yet amid tragic memories also of the seeming disaster which fell upon that home in 1900, razing to the very ground the church in which he worshipped for many years; here, surely, it is fitting that your gift has taken shape and form and substance, to enshrine the sweetness of those tender memories, to mark the passing of that seeming tragedy before the new triumphs of the Cross, the larger victories of the Faith . . ."

Another has said that the inscription on a stone on the little grey brick school chapel is the best appreciation of his life and work. He himself chose the object, namely, the chapel in the boys' school. The site was his home up to the Boxer rising. Rooms in the compound were his home to the end. The inscription is by Bishop Norris.

The Armistice in 1918.--On Sunday, Nov. 17, 1918, Bishop Scott was asked to preach in the legation chapel at Peking.

In 1921, Bishop Scott and Mary Scott came to England, and arrived just in time to be present at the funeral of Bishop Corfe, at St. John the Divine, Kennington. In his last hours, Corfe had also with him Arnold Scott, Bishop-designate of Shantung, the scene of Charles Scott's first labours, and where Corfe had helped his friend for so long.

I do not think many who attended that funeral service had expected Bishop Scott's presence; all the more it filled us with tenderest feelings.

I never saw my friend again. It must have been the same for most of that very representative congregation.

I continue his letters.

On Canon Cooper Scott's book, Things that were: "I don't know how to describe the effect of reading the book on me. It is almost sacramental, as though gentle arms were reaching out and drawing me with a soft persuasiveness right back to the happy and holy family life and circle, but with a silent persuasiveness which bodily presence and contact with those yet remaining would not avail to effect; such a loving, tender drawing to 'him that was separate from his brethren,' like a sure pledge and foretaste of those ties beyond the 'seen,' which can never be broken. It makes one feel how very sacred a thing human love is, and how essentially part and parcel of the love of God."

Arnold Scott was consecrated on St. James' Day, 1921, in Westminster Abbey by the Bishop of London, in the absence of the Archbishop of Canterbury: following Bishop Iliff, who had so well and truly laid already the foundations of the missionary diocese of Shantung.

Before leaving China, Bishop Charles Scott went with his nephew to many of the stations of the Shantung diocese. He writes on April 2, 1921: "It is a great privilege to be allowed to bring Arnold all round here, to pick up the threads of my earlier China work and develop the pattern. We read Evensong together quietly in the beautiful little church (Ping-yin), on the day of our arrival, and I was touched to find that the first lesson was Joshua i., Moses 'handing over' to Joshua, with God's charge to be strong and of a good courage, and the promise of continued help to him as to Moses. The second lesson was hardly less striking, II. Cor. iv. People are welcoming A. very cordially and affectionately; and all, both English and Chinese seem greatly pleased with the appointment."

SS. Simon and Jude's Day, 1924, found the bishop in hospital, suffering from a carbuncle. As usual with him, he said the enforced rest had given him much opportunity for quiet thought, and he had his Communion with a few friends.

The following, by Mary Scott, lights up the occasion. "Our festival has been much saddened by having no bishop at all (Bishop Norris was in England at the time), for a week ago my uncle went into hospital. He is in the wonderful Rockefeller, or Peking Union Medical College Hospital, where he is very happy and comfortable, and can be under the most skilled and constant treatment.

"I get over daily after school to sit with him, and everyone loves him there, and he gets many visitors. This morning P. M. Scott celebrated for him there. Ruth Phillimore and I went over--a lovely bicycle ride on a brisk autumn morning. The congregation included the Chinese priest of our church (Rev. Y. Y. Tsu, American trained), who is newly appointed as 'Superintendent of Religious work' in the hospital and his wife: and Dr. and Mrs. Smyly, whose names you will know as faithful friends to us. It was lovely to have the service in a 'sun-parlor,' into which patients can easily be moved.

"A couple of days ago, Mr. Lei, the senior of the Chinese priests, ordained by Bishop Scott, came over with a little gift from the Cathedral congregation. It was the verse, 'How beautiful are the feet,' etc., written in the best Chinese style, by a well-known scholar, and mounted and framed according to Chinese ideas. He presented it with a little speech as the bishop lay in bed. We foreigners have given him presents too, a warm fur foot-rug--as he suffers dreadfully from cold feet--and two nice Peking rugs for his study floor.

"The new school gate, a very dignified and pleasing building, with gate-keepers' room at one side, and a waiting-room on the other, was 'opened' by the bishop himself the morning he went to hospital, with the words, to the assembled boys: 'The Lord preserve thy going out and thy coming in,' etc.

"There was to have been a Chinese 'tea-talk party' on Sunday afternoon, but it was postponed as the bishop could not be there. We had special preaching for several week-day evenings, and on Sunday, from Mr. Li-tsun-lan (priest), who used to be the printer in this compound before 1900, and who remembers much of the old days. He spoke much of the gratitude the Chinese ought to feel for the help and prayers of so many friends for so many years."

On January 5, 1925.--He writes from his own house: "I am feeling well 'in myself,' and have hopes that the spring may see me better again, if indeed it be God's will that I 'recover my strength' (literally, 'brighten up again') before I go hence and be no more seen."

October 18, 1925. The Diary of an old Soul. I am greatly appreciating this Diary of an old Soul (George Macdonald). It is quite remarkable, I think. I have sent for one or two copies to give to persons here who will enter into it. I do not find it very well known. (Later.) I am reading again and more closely that book. It appeals to me greatly: having read it through, I am now taking it much more slowly, and shall afterwards probably take it as a "diary," one stanza for the day.

Daniel Deronda.--I am actually reading Daniel Deronda again, after some forty-five years. I cannot believe that any such wholly horrible man as Grandcourt could ever have lived. Either heaven or man would have destroyed him ere he got to 35!

The Easter Collect. Easter Eve, 1925.--I suppose you have sometimes felt, like many others, something resembling a slight shock of disappointment over the petition half of the Easter Day Collect. Theologically and religiously, it is of course wholly sound and wholesome, nor is the thought obscure. But rhetorically, isn't it a "come-down" from the very glorious opening of the Collect? Some few weeks ago it struck me what a perfect combination for Easter Day would be the first-half of the Easter Day collect and the latter-half of the Easter Eve collect. The glory and speciality of the opening is then balanced by the maintaining of a similar figure in the close.

"Almighty God who through thy only begotten Son Jesus Christ hast overcome death, and opened unto us the gate of everlasting life, we humbly beseech thee, that, through the grave and gate of death, we may pass to our joyful resurrection, for his merits who died and was buried and rose again for us, thy Son Jesus Christ our Lord."

And what is to be done for the mutilated Easter Eve collect? That is not so obvious, but I should be content with something like this: "Grant O Lord, . . . buried with him, and with him rise again unto newness of life, who with thee and the Holy Ghost ever liveth, One God, world without end."

Hawker of Morwenstow. May 6, 1925.--Do you know those lines of Hawker? They are great favourites of mine:--

"Sing from the chamber to the grave;
Thus did the dead man say:
A sound of melody I crave
Upon my burial day.

Sing from the threshold to the porch
Until you hear the bell:
And sing you loudly in the church
The Psalms I love so well.

Then bear me gently to my grave,
And as you pass along
Remember 'twas my wish to have
A pleasant funeral song."

Barrie's Mary Rose. May, 1925.--I must tell you how grateful I am to you for sending me that remarkable play of Barrie's. Not having been a play-goer, I feel very ignorant of the effects which might be attained on the stage. . . As a book, I have enjoyed it immensely. I have read it twice already, and am leaving it for Mary while I go to Tai-an. It is exceedingly beautiful and deep and clever. I could not help feeling it was a very tender commentary on those well-known lines of In Memoriam (Canto XC): "He tasted love with half his mind," etc.; but that is but one feature and not the leading thought. It seemed to be a very wonderful presentation of the problem which I suppose always has gripped the minds of thoughtful people at all times and places; which seems to be knocking so loudly at our hearts and minds in these latter days, and which naturally bulks largely in the reflections of the aged, viz.: the utter impossibility, with our present faculties, of correlating the things of time and place and sense with "the beyond." The book forces on one with great power the great fact, which it takes us all our lives to learn, that the past is nothing, except in that it has made the present and is making the future. And that takes me on from Canto XC above, to one of my favourite stanzas of the same poem, CXVI.

"Yet less of sorrow lives in me,
For days of happy commune dead;
Less yearning for the friendship fled
Than some strong bond which is to be."

His Books.--In September, 1926, he writes that he is dispersing his library. (There were far too many books for all to be removed to Tai-an-fu, though several cases were packed and sent.) He sent some to the Central Theological School, at Nanking, others to Yenching University, near Peking. "It is interesting, and not unpleasant to me to have to prepare for the last (?) move in life, and I should like to feel that all valuable books have found a home, and have not been sold for a grudged 2d."

Letters.--He hears that his own letters are not destroyed. As to letters received, his plan was to keep only the last received from each loved one. But he read them many times before destroying them.

Old age and infirmities.--In 1924 he began telling of his weaknesses. "I have not been able to walk to the cathedral for three or four months now." "My legs are apt to grumble and resent being called upon to carry my body."

1925---"I am getting to feel old, and am conscious that the checking of one malady only forces the adversary to choose another point of attack."

(During 1926 the bishop was really much better in health than in the two previous years. Everyone was remarking on this, though his powers of walking, formerly most remarkable, never returned to any great extent.)

June, 1926.--"I have been asking my doctor for his opinion as to the expediency of my taking a voyage home. He writes that he thinks there is nothing in my state of health to render such a step imprudent."

In the end he determined to go to England for a visit, and he was offered a home in the old house at Sutton, where his mother had spent the last fifteen years of her life.

Full of gratitude for the offer he gave no definite acceptance, because he had determined to close his life in China. After forty-seven years in Peking, he and Mary were to return to Tai-an-fu, to Bishop Arnold Scott. Thus he would have begun and ended his life in Shantung.

Peking, December 29, 1926.--"I must write while Christmas is still with us, and the old year still lingers. One wonders now each year, if there will ever be another for one in the life where 'time' obtains."

A friend in Peking writes: "There is something extraordinarily beautiful and restful about a mellow sunset: there has been something extraordinarily beautiful and restful about Bishop Scott's last years amongst us: and just as the lingering sun helps us to finish this or that before it sets at last, so the bishop has been helpful to the very end: and for that, as for all the help of a long life-time, we thank God and him."

January 5, 1927.--"I celebrated in the Cathedral on New Year's Day, the bishop assisting; it is the anniversary of his Consecration Day."

Perhaps some will recall, as they read these last details, the story of St. Columba's last hours in Iona: he had received an intimation that he was to pass on, and he visited all portions of the establishment, even the faithful animals in the stalls, to say farewell.

The following explains itself.

Epiphany, 1927. (From the aged bishop.)

It has been suggested to me that it would be acceptable to my fellow-workers if I were to write a few words in this budget (this was the collected news and subjects for special prayer about each branch of the work, circulated three or four times a year) before leaving the diocese, with which I have been so long connected.

They cannot but be words of farewell. It is possible that I may meet some of you again, that I may even visit Peking again; but it is not very probable.

We cannot, happily for us, use the certainty which marks the Apostle's words, in his touching farewell at Miletus: "I know that ye all shall see my face no more"; and the other solemn words, before and after these, I would not presume to cite as suitable, or appropriate, save only that one: "And now I commend you to God, and to the word of his grace, which is able to build you up, and to give you the inheritance among all them that are sanctified."

That part of my duty which lies in frequently commending to God my fellow-workers, new and old, however imperfectly performed, will, I trust, be at least no less worthily discharged when I am separated from you; and for many years past there is little but this that I have been able to do for the forwarding of your work and the welfare of yourselves.

But it is still true, thank God, however trite, that "more things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of!"

I know I shall not ask in vain for your continued prayers for myself in the years or months or days which may remain of my life on earth, and, it may be, "beyond that mark."

I must thank you all deeply, from my dear and revered successor in the honourable and arduous post of bishop of the diocese, to the latest comers to the mission, for constant and unfailing kindness, thoughtfulness and affection.

My life among you has been very happy and peaceful--"joying, and beholding your order," and watching with thankful heart the continuous development of the work in the diocese and in the church in all directions. I rejoice to have been allowed to see it, and to trace God's hand through his various ministers and ministries from the small beginnings of long ago to the present conditions.

The future we know not--(for which God be thanked)--but we know the old word of sacred humble confidence: "He that sent me is with me." May each one feel at all times that it is true of himself and herself, and all that is needful will follow.

God be with you. This God is our God for ever and ever; He shall be our guide unto death.

Yours affectionately in Christ,

CHARLES P. SCOTT,
Bishop.

January 16, 1927.--"I got to church at 8.0 and took the Celebration for the first time for many months at the Sunday service, and I suppose the last time I shall take it. ... I got through all right and sang the service as usual."

January 23, 1927.--"We are drawing close to the end. Last Sunday I celebrated for the last time at the high altar at the Eucharist. To-day, at the request of the Cathedral Council (Chinese) I preached to them at the 8.0 a.m. Celebration, the bishop being celebrant.

"By his request, I gave the benediction, and we sang Nunc Dimittis as we retired.....

After a few commonplace remarks in my address I took a text from the last words of the Epistle of the day: 'Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.'

"After service we adjourned to the waiting-room, where I was set in a chair (near a stove, happily), and harangued. . . . and gifted with a pair of scrolls."

Peking, Sunday, Jan. 30, 1927.--"Arnold, I am thankful to say, has got here and is a grand help in the last struggles. He preached this morning at the Chinese service at eight. Mary and I were in the congregation for our last Communion in the Cathedral."

All Saints, Tientsin, Sunday, Feb. 6, 1927.--"We got out of Peking on Monday last, Jan. 31. We were to have left by the 8.25 train in the morning, but I was too much done up at 7 a.m., and the doctor said I ought to wait till a later train it possible. . . .

"At 4.30 p.m. we left the station. . . . I feel I can manage the steamer journey to Shanghai all right. . . . We may be held up in the ice. . . . none of these things is within our control; we need not worry."

To Wilfred Scott and his wife, after a quiet week in their house at Tientsin;

S.S. Tungchow, Feb. 8, 1927.--"I have just been on the upper deck, watching the setting sun. . . . Well, good-bye dears, I don't know how to thank you for making my exit so kind and soothing and cheerful."

St. John's University, Shanghai, Sunday, Feb. 13, 1927. (This was written three hours before he passed away.)

"You must have a letter from here before we launch out into the deep.

"It is Sunday, and I am spending it with my dear friends, Bishop Graves and his daughters. Alas! his gracious, most kind partner has passed away, but the family life continues with the traditions of her charming character and example. . . . They have taken us both in and made us very welcome and comfortable, though they, like all here, are swamped with refugees, missionaries from up country who, in the hideous English of the day, have been 'evacuated' from their stations. . . . Arnold left us at Tientsin last Monday. We left next morning at 8.0; beautiful passage, stopping at Chefoo and Wei-hai-wei, to 'think' farewell, but not to go ashore. ... I am still feeble and short of breath and lame, but able to go on all right.

"We embark on the Kalyan on Tuesday. . . . I think it is likely to be my last voyage but one."

Bishop Arnold Scott tells the rest.

"On Sunday, Feb. 13, the bishop received the Holy Communion in St. John's pro-Cathedral, and after seeing many friends he went to Evensong at 6 o'clock. Half-way through the service he felt distress in breathing and went out with his niece to the bishop's house. Two doctors who were in the church came out and did all that was possible, but in a few minutes it was evident that the end was near.

Bishop Molony, the English bishop in Chek-iang, also happened to be in church; he was sent for and read the commendatory prayer, and Bishop Graves was also present when the end came at 7 o'clock.

Through the kindness of the Dean of Holy Trinity Cathedral in Shanghai (of which Bishop Scott had been made a Canon in 1877) the coffin was taken to the war memorial chapel in the cathedral, and rested there till the funeral on Wednesday, February 16.

Bishop Graves and the Dean conducted the service in the cathedral and at the grave, which was in a plot of land belonging to the American Church Mission at the Bubbling Well cemetery.

Though many of those who loved and honoured him were only able to be present in spirit, there were some at the graveside who represented various phases of the bishop's life. Naval chaplains were a reminder of his connexion with the navy, through his wife's family, and through his long friendship with Bishop Corfe.

Old Carthusians witnessed to his love for his old school, and to the associations with the hall and chapel of Old Charterhouse, for so many years connected with the meetings of the North China and Shantung Mission Association; old friends from the Legation at Peking represented his long and devoted services to the English communities in North China; and an old boy of Ch'ung Te School, Peking, made a link with the first and last home in Peking.

Lastly, most significant of all, there was the witness to his great share in the linking together of all the Anglican Missions in China, and the founding of the General Synod of the Chinese Church. He passed to his rest almost in the church where the Synod was constituted in 1912, and in the presence of an English and an American Bishop of the Chung-Hua-Sheng-Kung-Hui; and Chinese, American and English priests carried his body to the grave.

Bishop Charles Scott lived through periods of grave anxiety and danger for China and the Chinese Church, and he has died at the most serious crisis of all. But those who knew him best remember that he never despaired either of the country or of the Church. In his last talk with Bishop Graves on the day of his death, he spoke of his hopes for the future. Those who are left to bear the burden of these anxious times may surely gather inspiration from his patient faith and nope.

There he rests in Shanghai, the first spot of Chinese soil which his feet touched fifty-three years before. So he was not to leave the land of his adoption for the Lord's sake; we feel it was well.

Let the following speak of one they knew and loved:--

Mary Scott.--"How almost impossible it is to choose among the crowding memories of more than twenty years, beginning with finding my uncle waiting for me to land from a launch that had ploughed its way through the ice of the river to Taku, and continuing till we slowly pushed our way again through ice on February 8, 1927, on our way to Shanghai.

For the first part of this time he was still bishop of the diocese, and the memories are of the country cart journeys, and packing for them, and welcoming him back (if I had not gone too), so dusty as to be hardly recognisable, after one of our North China dust-storms.

Other memories are of bumpy journeys in the old mission cart, across the city to some pleasant party at the Legation, where he was ever a welcome guest. Again, of harassed moments when the cathedral plans would not go right. The burden of 'choice' often lay very heavy on him; I think it was because he saw both sides of every question so clearly.

Then, after the burden of office had been laid aside, and there were only those decisions to be made which affected his own doings and plans, how relieved he was; and how often I have heard him say, with his tender, humorous smile to someone who asked questions which he was not disposed to answer: 'I've resigned,--ask Bishop Norris!'

The delightful companionship of all those years: the holidays at St. Hilary's, when my uncle would read aloud after tea under the T'ing-tzu (a sort of pavilion), looking over the plain, to any guests who might be there until it was cool enough to go for a walk. And the walks on the helter-skelter down the rocky paths with a thunderstorm threatening at our very heels. The services in the little chapel--English for ourselves, and Chinese for the Chinese guests and servants. Those who shared these joys can never forget them.

And later, as he grew more infirm, our home-life became even more precious. The gay and kindly humour which lit up his talk: his welcome of the many who loved to come in for a quiet chat in his study, for counsel and comfort, spiritual or otherwise; his interest in poetry, in music, in any new buildings, even in our dusty little garden, where he, in purple cassock, would tramp up and down in summer with his office book--these lasted all the time.

He was wonderfully expert with his hands, and many a little 'gadget' was contrived or made by him for the home or St. Hilary's, and even the worn books in the school library, and many of his own and mine, shew his skilful mending.

Though he had no responsibilities after his return to Peking in 1915, yet he bore no small share, as long as he was able, in the 'serving' the various churches--the cathedral, legation chapel and, for many months, a little church room opened in the East City for Chinese who could not generally get so far as the cathedral in the west.

He also did some translation work, and took immense pains when 'occupying the Chair of ecclesiastical history,' as he humorously called it, for a small class of theological students, who were gathered in Peking for a time.

He still kept up his interest in everything and everyone. The rule made by him and Miles Greenwood at the outset was always kept: daily intercessions together, in English, for the work, in detail, in their chapel at noon; later in the cathedral, when all would come who possibly could, and last in the Ch'ung Te school chapel, where the beautiful altar of teak, a thank-offering given by himself, is the exact replica of that burned with the whole church and mission in 1900.

He was so patient and full of gaiety, even when suffering much bodily discomfort. He dreaded, beyond all things, the idea of being confined to bed--an invalid, dependent on the care of others, and God in his mercy saved him from that hard thing.

'Thy statutes have been my songs: in the house of my pilgrimage' he wrote on the flyleaf of a Psalter which he constantly used, and his voice--sweet and mellow to the last--was always lifted up bravely in the hymns and psalms which in earlier days he had taught the Chinese to sing."

Bishop Norris. (This was written just before the bishop's death.)--"His is indeed a record to be thankful for: I had almost written 'to be proud of,' but the words don't fit the bishop's conspicuous humility. I doubt whether 'the man in the street' would acclaim Bishop Scott as a great man, or a great leader; I doubt if there are many at home who realise wherein his greatness has lain. But those of us who have known him, have known that he was in thought, in word, in deed, more like his Master than most of us. ... The world through its wisdom knows not God and cannot appreciate the value of God-likeness."

The Rev. Roland Allen.--'1 'The old bishop' never thrust himself into the limelight. He loved retirement. The days of his episcopacy were stirring . . . but to know what part he played is, I think, far from easy. He was, I suspect, himself unconscious of his influence. I remember once asking my Chinese teacher which of the foreigners he had met best understood Chinese 'Li' ('propriety,' as it is vilely translated), he said at once, 'the bishop.' Now, I had heard the bishop say frequently that he had never learnt Chinese Li, and was so profoundly ignorant of it that he had often felt awkward, and I was taken aback. I said to Chang: 'But the bishop always says that he does not know the simplest rules of Li,' and Chang answered: 'He does nothing right according to our rule, but what he does is always right.' That seemed to me truly typical of the bishop. Instinctive, inborn, love of the right action made his actions right. . . . There was a divine wisdom in him. It was visible to 'the seeing eye,' but he himself seemed commonly, if not always, unconscious of it. I find it easy to believe, what I have heard in China, that he did much more to draw together those early Conferences of bishops out of which grew the Chung-Hua-Sheng-Kung-Hui than could ever be known. His action was not the energetic external action which shews, and cannot be hid. He was naturally hidden. He did not like, as I understood, even letters kept, and I destroyed them--letters full of grace. . . . His judgment is with his God, not as those words are commonly used, but essentially, eternally, deliberately, by his own will. I know no man, I have never known any man, of whom I felt that so strongly."

Bishop Iliff.--"As regards Bishop Scott's personality, I should say that his main characteristic was an infinite amount of patience--patience both towards people and events. He was one of those really great people who could bear with the trivialities of others with a good grace. . . . He had a wonderful sense of humour, which carried him (and many another missionary) through what might have been very difficult situations. He always seemed to be able to shed a ray of humour over any incident, however disagreeable it might be."

Deaconess Edith Ransome.--". . (At first I) seem to have felt a little awe of him, and it was not till later that I appreciated the depth and breadth, the strength and sweetness of his character.

"In the troubles of 1900 we were parted from him, but I can never forget the warmth of his welcome at Tientsin, when we went into church and said together Psalm 123. Then came Mrs. Scott's illness, the voyage to Japan and the sad landing, when she was carried to our boarding-house and nursed devotedly by my sister. Two days later she passed away, and it was then in that hour of deepest sorrow that Bishop Scott's marvellous faith and patience and unselfishness were revealed as never before. Looking back to that time, I can only wonder as I think how he was upheld, how strength was given to him to meet the awful break, not with patience only, but with courage and cheerfulness which refused to sadden the rest of our little party.

"Surely there never was such a man to take care of one on a journey: constantly thoughtful and considerate for others, whether plodding along a country road and staying at a Chinese inn, or travelling by rail or steamer, always finding some quiet spot in which we managed to read Evensong together. . . .

"Others have spoken of Bishop Scott's courtesy. Can anyone forget it?--to foreigner and Chinese--man or woman, the same unfailing respect, and the sense too often in oneself of 'brusquerie' which by contrast made one ashamed. He laughingly told us that he had once converted a Chinese woman by his politeness!"

(In Deaconess Edith's long time of illness and disablement, Bishop Scott used constantly to visit her, and almost every Sunday would celebrate Holy Communion for her in her room at 8 a.m., himself going into the Cathedral afterwards, for what remained of the service.)

Ruth Phillimore.---"It has, indeed, been a privilege to have known him intimately. His great humility, his constant courtesy, his ready humour and his wide-minded tolerance endeared him to all."

A.G. Bowden-Smith.--". . . . Never have I known any man like Bishop Scott, not only so saintly and courteous and always kind, but apparently without any weaknesses or prejudices. He had time and thought for everyone. ... I shall never forget the many times his kindness has just helped me to face overpowering difficulties. . . . To have been privileged to know him a little is the greatest blessing of our being out here."

Rev. Li Tsun-lan, in an address to workers, based his remarks on Hebrews xiii, 7-17. He spoke of his gentleness, patience and forbearance with all his workers in an exceedingly nice way, and emphasised the fact that Bishop Scott would never give anyone up as a failure, but would try again and again, if need be, to find some other sphere of work for one who was not succeeding in the task appointed. He said that one of the most difficult things for him to understand was how Bishop Scott had been able to bear with all his (Mr. Li's) shortcomings.

Mary Hung (translated).--"I was only fifteen when Bishop Scott first came to Peking, forty-five years ago, and I still remember how the moment we saw that good and kindly face, and heard his gentle words, we all loved him. His patience was great, perhaps because he prayed about everything and seemed to look on the spiritual side of everything. He showed it especially in times of trouble. One thing I must mention. When he came to Peking we had no church at all, nor even a room that looked like a church. The first thing he did was to give us that, small enough; but he was ever making it more beautiful. It was destroyed in 1900, and once more we worshipped in a room till 1907, when he built our beautiful cathedral. He designed it, he built it himself. In the chancel windows he put stained glass, with the figure of our Lord in the central light. Outside the building he caused a text to be cut: 'Look up to the Holy Place; How beautiful it is.' And we Chinese Christians can never forget."

(From a Chinese priest who knew Bishop Scott for forty odd years.)

"I have known Bishop Scott ever since I was five years old.

"We have a Chinese saying, 'The superior man is a man of varied ability.' The Bishop was a man of God, and deeply versed in Christian doctrine; but he was also a carpenter, an architect and a builder. In our Peking cathedral for instance, which he designed and built, it is not any magnificence, costliness, or size that impresses one--it is the way in which the building strikes an imperative note of reverence. One day a foreign visitor remarked: 'I have seen many big churches, and none has ever so inspired me with reverence as this does.' Thus the bishop's character showed itself in his building.

"Secondly, I would insist on his gentleness and patience. He would show endless patience with the stupidest learner. Years ago someone told me how he went somewhere in Peking to preach with a Chinese companion, and on the way met some rude and insulting soldiers, one of whom struck him on the face. His Chinese companion got angry, and wanted to report the soldiers to their officers. The bishop would not allow it, because he knew the soldiers' punishment would be heavy; he said to his companion: 'There is no need to be excited, he has not hurt me.' This incident was typical of the bishop's patience."

The Rt. Rev. Bishop Huntington (of the American Church Mission, Anking).--"I felt a sense of deep personal loss in the death of your uncle. He has been for so long a guide and friend to the Chinese Church and to all who came within reach of his friendliness. That friendliness seems to me to have been one of his most striking characteristics. It went out with a warmth and geniality to all who had the pleasure of meeting him."

The Rev. L. B. Ridgely, D.D. (Head of the Central Theological School of the Chung-Hua-Sheng-Kung-Hui).--"Always he seemed to be living in the light, and now, with all the annoying sense of physical weakness gone, he is surely rejoicing in it' more and more until the perfect day.' . . . To me it seems as if a bright light had gone out in our China. And yet it is only lifted up on high to be among the stars: for his name and influence will never be forgotten in the church in China, nor in the nation."

From "Truth," Feb. 23, 1927.--"Bishop C. P. Scott, who has died at Shanghai, at the beginning of his journey to England, has met his end at a tragic moment in the history of the land and people he loved. He had worked in China for more than half a century, and for a whole generation he was its bishop. Then, when his work was crowned by the formation of the Church of China, he resigned his See and once more became an ordinary missionary--if such a man can be such a thing. Dr. Scott was unquestionably a great missionary bishop, whose work, however clouded it may seem to be just now, cannot in the end fail of its civilising and humanising effect."

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