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Obituary Notices

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The Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Dec 24, 1867

FromReview and Herald, Vol. 31, No. 2.

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Obituary Notices.

Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth.
We are called again to record the death of one of our number. Sarah E., daughter of Eld. J. T. and Elizabeth Mitchell, died, near Lisbon, Cedar Co., Iowa, Dec. 1, in the thirteenth year of her age. She had suffered much during the last two years, of a scrofulous affection, or white swelling, and its effects. She bore all with great patience, especially for one of her age. But alas! when she was gaining some strength and activity, she was suddenly prostrated by a violent cold, resulting in congestion, and fever, and notwithstanding every effort was made to save life, it terminated fatally in about four weeks. She loved the truth. Before her last sickness, she had made up her mind to be baptized at the earliest opportunity. She spoke of death with great composure, and divided up her little effects between her sisters, retaining her Testament, which she dearly loved, requesting that it might be placed with her in the coffin, as it had been a prize which she won by committing to memory over 500 verses of Scripture, in a few weeks of her former affliction. She was conscious of her departure, and only five minutes before her death, requested her friends to meet her in the kingdom. She rests in hope. A funeral discourse by the writer. J. DORCAS.
Died, in Topsham, Me., Nov. 29, of consumption and sore throat, Bro. Lewis Thomas, aged sixty-five years. Bro. Thomas embraced the third angel's message about sixteen years ago, and has never lost sight of the truth; but for the last ten months Bro. T. sought the Lord with all his heart, and made the full preparation to meet his change. His love was very strong toward his Advent brethren. Bro. Thomas had no desire to live only to praise the Lord and keep his commandments. He leaves a wife and six children to mourn his loss. He bore all his sufferings with Christian patience, and calmly fell asleep in Jesus, to awake in the morning of the first resurrection, when Christ the Lifegiver shall come.
Bro. T.'s last request was to be buried by the side of his Advent brethren in Canaan, Me. A discourse was preached by the writer from Job xiv, 11-12, to an attentive congregation. AARON BARNES.
Died, in Olcott, N. Y., Dec. 12, 1867, of consumption, our youngest sister, Isadore J. Lamson, aged 20 years and 4 months. As the subject of this notice had quite a large number of friends among the readers of the Review, perhaps a few words respecting her last sickness may be gratifying to them.
For a consumptive, she was a great sufferer, but was so patient and cheerful that even while so very sick, she was the light of the household. She often said she would like to live, but if the will of God was otherwise, she was willing to sleep. When asked if she felt prepared, she said she felt as though she had done all she could on her part; and truly the “fruits of the Spirit” were beautifully manifested in her sickness. When she knew that her hour had come, she betrayed not the slightest agitation. She could talk but little, but nearly the last thing she said to those attending her was, “Good bye. Meet me in the morning.”
She had had so many spells of being fearfully pressed for breath, that with us she had entertained a dread of the last struggle; but, through the goodness of God, the “pitcher was broken” and “the silver cord” was loosed so gently, that we could hardly realize that we were in the presence of death. Sermon by E. B. Saunders.
Like closing of a flower at even-fall, Peaceful and silently she passed away; There was no terror in the parting scene,— And there'll be gladness in that coming day.
The earth looks empty, and our hearts are sad, Yet we can smile e'en through our falling tears, Hope, like a rainbow thrown athwart the sky, Comforts our hearts and scatters all our fears.
Oh! what a shout of victory will rise, If once again unites our household band; When Jesus comes and cries, Awake! awake!! And frees the captive from the tyrant's land.
Sleep, loved one, sleep, there, in thy lowly bed, Thy heart will never be with anguish riven; While we go on to meet the storms of life, And wait and labor for a home in Heaven.
E. O. LAMSON LINDSAY.