He had an exquisitely sure and alert sense of honor. He could not do a mean thing. He won friends, and never lost any; because all felt that he was not only so genuine and unselfish, so bright and full of happy humor, so deep and exuberant in affection, but that he was so perfectly to be trusted. No one knew better his own rights, or was less wanting in any courage that might be needed to maintain them. He was capable of high degrees of indignation, and his life work, championing the rights of wronged and depressed classes and races, furnished him with but too many occasions for holy anger. His soul often burned with intensest indignation. When one night the people in Quitman, Georgia, burned over their heads the seminary for colored girls, or when the Georgia Legislature was enacting the infamy of the Glenn Bill, his heart was hot as any Babylonian furnace, aflame with indignation, as though touched with the divine wrath, the anger of love. And yet not for a moment could one detect in him any spark of bitterness or malice. But chilled now is that heart of flame; stilled now are the mighty pulsations of that better than chivalric spirit, which up and down the land, all over the East and the West, during those fourteen years, did so much to _educate the churches_, and to remind the country of the "kindness and love of God our Saviour, which hath appeared toward man," and which ought with all possible celerity to be manifested by men, by men of all races and of all classes, toward one another, and to promote which this American Missionary Association finds supremely its reason to be. The Society has had, has, and will have, other men in its service of splendid personal characteristics and having peculiar fitness for the signally providential parts assigned them in this great work, which ought to fire the heart of every Christian in the land. One we have, thank God, still among us, equally loved and revered, who has long stood at the front in this mighty and benignant enterprise--may the day be slow in coming when his great heart shall be missed from these yearly councils! And still we may be sure that the resources neither of our humanity nor of the grace of God are in any danger of being exhausted. James Powell's Welsh blood was in his favor. His American boyhood and training helped fit him for what was to come. That whispered word of a Christian lady to a young man whose conversion, in turn, led to the conversion of young Powell, proved to be a word of destiny. And his experience abroad with the Jubilee Singers, in whose tones was voiced the pathos of three silent centuries, had, also, not a little to do in fitting him for the work God had in store for him.