Of Moffat's character we have had frequent glimpses in the preceding
pages; of his personal appearance and dignified mien our portrait and
pictures give some idea. A few words may, however, be added, based upon
the facts recorded by his son in the last chapter of "Robert and Mary
Moffat."

Tall and strong, with dark piercing eyes, he stood, a man of dauntless
courage, quick and energetic in action, with a resolution in the
performance of duty that no opposition could thwart; yet, withal, of
gentle manner, and of an even temper, proof against the many attacks
made upon it. His disposition was to think well of men, and to believe
what they said. Deceit he hated, it was the one thing he could not
forgive. He trusted men implicitly; and this probably accounted for the
fact that the Bechwanas, who carried the art of lying to perfection,
seldom lied to him. They knew it was the one thing that would make him
angry.

His reverence for holy things was very great. He relished a joke as well
as any man, indeed, there was a good deal of humour in him; but woe to
that man who spoke jestingly of the things pertaining to God. The Word
of the Lord was too real and too important for any triviality. God was
ever present to him, and he lived for God. His son says: "Even when I
was alone with him, on some of his itinerating journeys, no meal was
commenced without a reverent doffing of the Scotch bonnet, his usual
head-dress in those days, and the solemn blessing; and our morning and
evening worship was never missed or hurried."

An instance of his forbearance under provocation is afforded in the
following:--