Free e-text of "A Brief Memoir with Portions of the Diary, Letters, and Other Remains," by Eliza Southall.
Eliza Southall possessed a mind of no common order; and hers was a character in which simplicity and strength, originality and refinement, were beautifully blended: diffident and retiring, she was best appreciated where she was known most intimately.
In very early life she manifested an unusual degree of mental power. When quite a little child, her earnest pursuit of knowledge was remarkable: she delighted in her lessons, and chose for her own reading a class of books far beyond the common taste of children.
Her ardent, impulsive nature was, to a beautiful degree, tempered and softened by a depth of tenderness and intensity of feeling, together with a warmth of affection, which bound her very closely in sympathy, even as a child, with those around her.
These sweet traits of natural character were so early blended with the unmistakable evidences of the fruit of divine grace in her heart, that it would be difficult to point to any time in her earliest childhood when there was not an earnest strife against evil, some sweet proof of the power of overcoming grace, and some manifestation of love to her Saviour.
Her own words sweetly describe her feelings in recalling this period:--"When I look back to the years of my early childhood, I cannot remember the time when the Lord did not strive with me; neither can I remember any precise time of my first covenant. It was the gentle drawing of the cords of his love; it was the sweet impress of his hand; it was the breathing in silence of a wind that bloweth where it listeth."
The following instances of the serious thoughtfulness of her early childhood are fresh in her mother's recollection. On one of her sisters first going to meeting, Eliza, who was younger, much wished to accompany her; saying, "I know, mamma, that R---- and I can have meetings at home; but I do want to go." Being told that her going must depend upon her sister's behavior, Eliza ran to her, and putting her arms round her neck, said, most earnestly, "Do, dear R----, be a good girl and behave well." The dear child's desire to attend meeting was soon gratified; and that morning she selected, to commit to memory, Jane Taylor's appropriate hymn on attending public worship, especially noticing the stanza--
"The triflers, too, His eye can see,
Who only _seem_ to take a part;
They move the lip, and bend the knee,
But do not seek Him with the heart,"--
saying, earnestly, "Oh, I hope I shall not be like those!"
At another time, whilst amusing herself with her toys, she asked, "Mamma, what is it that makes me feel _so sorry_ when I have done wrong? _Directly_, mamma: what is it?" On her mother's explaining that it was the Holy Spirit put into her heart by her heavenly Father, she replied, "But how very whispering it is, mamma! Nobody else can hear it." "Yes, my dear," said her mother; "and thou mayst sometimes hear it compared to a 'still small voice, and then thou wilt know what is meant." She answered, "Yes, mamma," and then continued to amuse herself as before.
The first remembrance of Eliza retained by one of her younger sisters is that of sitting opposite to her in the nursery-window while she endeavored, in a simple manner, to explain to her the source and object of her being. To the same sister she afterwards addressed some affectionate lines of infantile poetry urging the same subject, commencing,--
"Look, precious child, to Jesus Christ."
The missionary spirit which filled her young heart was also evinced by her desire to possess a donkey, that she might distribute Bibles in the country places round about; and this was afterwards spoken of as the ambition of her childhood.
Together with the cheerful sweetness of her disposition, there was an unusual pensiveness, a tender care for others, which was most endearing, and often touching to witness. One day, perceiving her mother much affected on receiving intelligence of the decease of a valued friend and minister at a distance from home, Eliza evinced her sympathy by laying on the table before her some beautiful lines on the death of Howard. On her mother asking if she thought the cases similar, she said, "Not quite, mamma: J---- T---- was not without friends."
So earnest was her anxiety for the good of herself and her sisters, that, when any thing wrong had been done, her feelings of distress seemed equally excited, whether for their sakes or her own. After any little trouble of this sort, her mother often observed her retire alone, and, when she returned to the family-group, a beaming expression on her countenance would show where she had laid her sorrows. Sometimes in her play-hours she would endeavor to prepare her two younger sisters for the lessons which they would receive from their father, and, when the time came for her to join in giving them regular instruction, she entered into it with zest and interest.
Many hours were spent during the summer in the little plots of ground allotted to herself and sisters out of a small plantation skirting a meadow near the house, and many others in reading under the old elm-trees which cast their shade over the garden-walk.
The spare moments during her domestic occupations which she was anxious not to neglect were often beguiled by learning pieces of poetry, a book being generally open at her side while thus employed.
Earnestness of purpose and unwearied energy were characteristics of her mind. Whatever she undertook was done thoroughly and with an untiring industry, which often claimed the watchful care of her parents from the fear lest she should overtax her strength. It was evidently difficult to her to avoid an unsuitable strain on her physical powers, whatever might be the nature of her pursuit,--whether her own private reading or other intellectual occupation. At one period her time and energies were closely occupied for some months in the formation of very elaborate charts, by which she endeavored to impress historical and scientific subjects on her mind. The collection and examination of objects illustrating the different branches of natural history was also a very favorite pursuit, in which she delighted to join her sisters. But the reader will best understand how completely any pursuit in which she became deeply interested took hold upon her, from her own account of her experiences respecting poetry.
While deeply feeling her responsibility for the right use of all the talents intrusted to her care, and earnestly engaged in their cultivation, she was equally conscious of the claims of social duty, and as solicitous to fulfil them, seeking in every way to contribute to the happiness of those around her, whether among the poor or among the friends and relatives of her own circle.
Her journal, while it exhibits an intense earnestness in analyzing the state of her own mind, and perhaps rather too much proneness to dwell morbidly upon it, also evinces the tender joy and peace with which she was often blessed by the manifested presence of her Lord. It unfolds an advancement in Christian experience to which her conduct bore living testimony, and proves that in humble reliance on the hope set before her in the gospel, with growing distrust of herself, her faith increased in God her Saviour, and through his grace she was enabled to maintain the struggle with her soul's enemies, following on to know the Lord.
Thus it was, as she sought preparation for a more enlarged sphere of usefulness on earth, her spirit ripened for the perfect service of heaven; and six weeks after she left her father's house a bride, the summons was received to join that countless multitude who "have washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the Lamb; therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple."