Directory_and_Chronicle_1850 — Page 371

1850.

What I have Seen in Shanghái.

333

Mr. Southwell was regarded, by those who knew him best, as a man of rare attainments. No one could associate with him long, or listen even to a single one of his sermons, without being conscious of his charming spirit and powerful genius. He was deservedly much esteemed, much loved; and very high expectations were entertained regarding his future usefulness. To whatever he put his hand, his whole soul went with it; and neither was withdrawn till some lasting and favorable impression was made. With much gentleness there was blended great intensity of action. He worked with all his might. His mental labor was too much for his physical frame. Though my own personal acquaintance with him was not long nor very intimate, yet many opportunities were afforded me of seeing him and of knowing his character. I saw him in public and in private, in health and in sickness, in times of joy and in seasons of sorrow. Often there were cast over his mind gloomy shadows, softened usually by humble sub- mission to the Divine will, but sometimes thickening to a darkness that was painful. It seemed, and I believe it was indeed so, that in his professional course, previously to coming to this country, he had injured his health by too hard and too long continued study, the effect of which left him ill prepared to endure this climate and sustain the fatigues of a missionary life. His mind, however, was fixed upon this enterprise; but his feeble frame was not equal to the demands made on it. He relaxed from study and sought recreation. Still firm health was wanting; and instead of regaining strength, and becoming ac- clinated, he grew weaker and was less able to withstand disease. Violent disease refused to yield to the most skillful and assiduous me- dical treatment, and in a few days it terminated fatally. During this last struggle, those leading traits of character already mentioned, were now still more prominently developed. It was my privilege to watch with him only a night or two before his death; his sufferings were ex- treme, and occasionally distressing doubts filled his mind The alter- nations were strongly marked. At one time, heaven's joys seemed to fill his soul; then again all was darkness. Just after awaking from a little refreshing sleep, when the first rays of the morning sun shone in- to his room, he spoke a few words to me; and then, assuming a de- votional attitude, he addressed himself to the throne of all grace in a strain most solemn and sublime. The scene is well described by those beautiful words of the Poet :—

The chamber where the good man meets his fate,

Is privileged beyond the common walk

Of virtuous life, quite in the verge of Heaven.