The Archbishop had been very ill, and he was for this reason not able to be present at the ceremony. Sir Moses drove to Stone House to enquire, and on hearing from Mrs Tait that his Grace was progressing favourably, left his card and an envelope, enclosing two cheques for the Orphanage,—£50 from himself, and £50 in memory of his beloved wife.
During the month of January 1870 Sir Moses was frequently confined to his room by indisposition, and daily visited by his medical attendant. This, however, did not prevent him from having the daily papers read to him. It was a habit with him to read himself, or to have read to him, two of the leading journals every day whilst at dinner when no special guest happened to be present.
Wednesday, January 26th.—The Times gave an account of a dinner to the Archbishop of Syra and Tenos in the Jerusalem Chamber at Westminster Abbey.
The Dean, in proposing the toast of the evening, "The health of the Archbishop of Syra and Tenos," introduced two sentences, which appeared to be of peculiar interest to Sir Moses.
"We are seated," the Dean says, "in the chamber of Jerusalem. What happier name or place to receive the representative of those far-off Eastern Churches of which Jerusalem is the mother and mistress?"
"It is useful even for Englishmen to be reminded, by the presence of our guest, that there is a land more dear to us from our childhood even than England; that there is a city more sacred even than Rome, or Geneva, or Westminster: that land is the land of the East, and that city is Jerusalem."
Sir Moses, though in a state of great weakness of body, on hearing the above read to him, roused as by an electric flash, raised himself from his couch, and, addressing the person who had just been reading to him, exclaimed with great emotion: "And what ought Israel to think of Jerusalem? How ought we to receive the representatives of our communities in the Holy City when they come to visit us? What ought our attachment to be to the land of our forefathers? Ought it not indeed to be at least as intense as that of the venerable Dean of Westminster? I wish every one of my young friends of the rising generation would read the words of the Dean, and be reminded, even as Englishmen, of the words of the Royal Psalmist, 'If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth; if I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joys' (Ps. cxxxvii, v. 5 and 6)."
A few weeks later he received a communication from Jerusalem, reporting another season of famine, drought, and ravages by locusts, and he lost no time in sending a copy of the letters he had received to the daily papers, stating that he would take charge of any donations in aid of the sufferers.
His appeal was most successful, and he had the happiness of becoming the medium of rendering early help to thousands of suffering families.