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.