In reviewing his work from time to time he thanks God for the practical evidence of the word preached to the soldiers in his capacity as chaplain to the garrison at Tanjore. Both on Sunday and week evening services the men come in good numbers. “To this they are encouraged by their officers, who all confessed that corporal punishments had ceased from the time that the regiment began to relish religious instruction.”

He found less encouragement in dealing with Tuljajee, the Rajah of Tanjore, who, broken in health and spirit, the victim of vice and rapacity, mourning miserably the loss of his son, was rapidly going downhill. His servants were doing as they liked, and a new Sirkeel or principal officer, named Baba, was helping himself to the treasury, oppressing the poor down-trodden people. Schwartz would stand no nonsense from this man. In a letter to the English resident, Mr. Huddleston, he strongly denounces him. “If the Rajah will let him go on in this manner, my being a mediator is hypocrisy. The Rajah and Baba are entirely mistaken if they think that I would sacrifice truth or integrity to oppression and low cunning. I am heartily tired of their behaviour and shall mention it in plainest terms to them and the governor.” In the end the Government were compelled to take charge of Tanjore and in its administration asked Schwartz to take a seat on the Committee with this well deserved compliment: “Happy indeed would it be for this country, for the Company and for the Rajah himself, when his eyes should be open, if he possessed the whole authority and were invested with power to execute all the measures that his wisdom and benevolence would suggest.” He accepted this honorary position on condition that he was to be a party to no coercive measures towards the unfortunate Rajah; at the same time he will not allow his friendly interest in the past to bias him as to his attitude of injustice towards his people. “This I have declared more than once, when I humbly entreated him to have mercy on his subjects, for which plain declaration I lost in some degree his good opinion.” Soon this ruler found that his people would have nothing to do with his promises of amendment and began to leave the country in despair. The Rajah appealed to Schwartz to intervene on his behalf and such was his personal influence that seven thousand of these emigrants returned again to their homes, saying to the aged missionary, their true friend, “As you have shown kindness to us, we intend to work night and day to manifest our regard for you.”

Amongst the many friends and fellow-workers of Schwartz, the name of his young pastor, John Caspar Kohlhoff, will ever be associated. He was the son of the venerable John Balthasar Kohlhoff who for fifty years had laboured so well and faithfully in the field. It is not surprising that Schwartz took such a special interest in this young man, for he was his son in the faith. He speaks of this with great simplicity and thankfulness: “From his younger years I instructed him in Christianity, English, German and some country languages. Having been instructed for several years it pleased God to awaken him to a sense of his own sinfulness and to raise in his mind a hunger and thirst after the righteousness of Jesus. He then prayed, wept and meditated, and in short he became a very agreeable companion to me. His improvement in knowledge I observed with delight.”

And now at Tranquebar on the 23rd of January, 1787, a large congregation is gathered of Europeans and their families, with the native Christians, to the Ordination Service of this young missionary of promise. His old father sits by his side and Schwartz preaches the sermon from 2 Tim. ii. 1: “Thou therefore my son be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.” After his ordination the young preacher ascended the pulpit and preached in Tamil and the meeting concluded with some faithful words from the missionaries present and the sacramental service. It was most impressive and it is a pleasure to know that the ministry thus begun was continued through many years of faithful and successful work.

The interest of Schwartz in another young man, in this instance a native prince, forms one of the most striking incidents of his work. It shows the tenderness and fatherly care, the fearless loyalty to the right and the wise direction which the old missionary devoted to one who never forgot his protector and friend. The story of Serfogee must be told here.

Tuljajee, the Rajah, according to the custom of his country, being now childless, for he had lost by death his son, his daughter, and his grandson, adopted as son the ten-year-old boy of his cousin and, after formally acquainting the English governor of the fact, on the 26th January, 1787, he sent for Schwartz to bless the child. “This is not my son,” said he, “but yours, into your hands I deliver him.” And the old missionary reverently replies: “May this child become a child of God.” Later on with much emotion the Rajah begs a favour of his friend: “I appoint you guardian of this child, I intend to give him over to your care, or literally to put his hands into yours.”

But Schwartz hesitated to take this responsibility, pointing out to the Rajah how he was leaving this boy with a support “like a garden without a fence,” and amid the bickerings and jealousies of the palace his life would be endangered and it would be difficult to protect him, though he would gladly see him from time to time. He urged him to make his brother the proper guardian of the boy. “You have a brother,” Schwartz said, “deliver the child to him, charge him to educate and treat him as his own son till he is grown up. Thus his health and life may be preserved and the welfare of the country may be secured.” To this advice the old Rajah strongly objected at first, for this brother of his was not by any means a satisfactory relative, even his legitimacy was doubtful, and it was only after an interview with his mother, who strongly supported the proposition of Schwartz, that it was agreed to.

There is no doubt that Schwartz rejected this offer of the guardianship of Serfogee because it would have placed him in a position of political responsibility in the government of the country, amounting to a regency. This, of course, would be quite incompatible with his work as a missionary. The position was a very difficult and embarrassing one, needing the utmost caution, for, on the one hand, Schwartz was anxious to stand by the boy at the affecting request of the Rajah (who had evidently not much longer to live), and, on the other hand, he must hold himself aloof from any entanglements as regards the conduct of the country during his minority. But it will be seen how lovingly and faithfully the old missionary until the day of his death fulfilled the moral guardianship of Serfogee which he from that moment accepted as a solemn charge. The next morning the decrepit and worn out Rajah summoned the English resident, Mr. Huddleston, and Colonel Stuart, the Commander of the garrison, with Mr. Schwartz to his chamber, where his brother and Serfogee with the principal officers were also assembled. He explained his will as regards the boy, agreed to his brother acting as Regent, but when Serfogee was old enough to take the throne, he trusted the Company would “maintain him and his heirs on the throne as long as the sun and moon should endure.” He was told by his visitors that this would be done and then he exclaimed: “This assurance comforts me in my last hours.”

A few days afterwards the old man died, and, although his body was burned, no woman mounted the pile to die, a significant fact, seeing that at this time the suttee was still the practice of the law. Troubles soon arose, however, over the succession; Ameer Sing was not disposed to act as simply regent and guardian, and eventually the Governor was persuaded to refer the question of title to a meeting of pundits, who, under the influence of bribes, reported that by the religious laws of the Shasters Ameer Sing should take the throne. For a time things went well, Schwartz was allowed to build schools and the money promised under the will of the late Rajah was supplied. Wherever Schwartz went the importance of providing schools for the native boys and girls was uppermost in his thoughts. At Vepery, where Lady Campbell had established an asylum for female orphans, he was much interested. “The children read to me,” he writes, “showed me their copy-books, their sewing and knitting, and recited their catechism. I expressed a wish to catechise them (by extemporaneous questions), but they were not accustomed to it. I observed ‘that mere learning by head would be of very little use to the children.’ ‘True,’ Lady Campbell answered, ‘but where shall we find persons to catechise them in a useful manner?’ I have often mentioned this subject since and trust that God will point out the means.” To these institutions the Government at Madras made liberal contributions and Schwartz asked for the same support to be granted to Tanjore. He saw how the provincial schools were succeeding at Palamcotta. These were not places where the doctrines of Christianity were taught but he always appreciated the indirect advantage to the spiritual welfare which these institutions obtained. His words are wise and explicit in speaking of the value of such schools. “They consist chiefly,” he says, in writing to the Society, “of children of Brahmins and merchants who read and write English. Their intention doubtless is to learn the English language with a view to their temporal welfare, but they thereby become better acquainted with good principles. No deceitful methods are used to bring them over to the saving doctrines of Christ; though the most earnest wishes are entertained that they may all come to the knowledge of God and of Jesus Christ whom He hath sent.”

At Tanjore one of these schools was filled with children from the best families, and the young men from the seminaries obtained good situations under the Government at Madras. Schwartz looked forward to developing in this direction a residential academy for catechists and was very anxious to start a provincial school at Combaconum, which was a very idolatrous place. But with the Rajah Ameer Sing he did not find such a favourable reception of his plans as with the old King Tuljajee, his predecessor. On this point he had the following conversation: “I spoke with the Rajah on the subject, but he seemed not to approve of it and afterwards sent to inform me of his disapprobation. I went to him and inquired how it was that he did not approve of it, especially when everyone was left at liberty to have Hindustani, Persian, Mahratta, and Malabar Schools. ‘But,’ I said, ‘the true reason of your disapprobation is a fear that many would be converted to the Christian religion. I wish you would all devote yourselves to the service of the true God. I have assisted you in many troubles and will you now treat me as an enemy? Is this right?’ He answered, ‘No, that is not my meaning, but it has never been the custom.’ ‘Ought it then,’ I replied, ‘always to remain so? There has been much done already that never was the custom.’ He said, ‘Good, good, I will do it.’”