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IN MEMORIAM

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SARAH PARTRIDGE SPOFFORD BORN NOVEMBER 10, 1823 DEPARTED MAY 11, 1892

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The Blessed Memory Of Sarah Partridge Spofford abides in the hearts of her relatives and friends. Single-hearted and self-reliant from from childhood, she was a rare example of a refined and amiable nature, combined with marked independence of character. Her perceptions were intuitively keen, her sense of justice unerring, her loyalty to duty and to friendship never failing. To a most delicate and sensitive physical organization she united an intellectual strength, a power of will, and a persistent endurance, which were the admiration of all who knew her. Although long a martyr to bodily infirmity in some form, suffering during the first half of her life from distressing head-aches, and for the latter half from a bronchial malady which proved incurable, she bore all with a patience, a courage, and a constancy which kept her always cheerful and uncomplaining. Her useful and devoted life was dedicated to good of others—always forgetful of herself, ever thoughtful of her family and friends.

Her last days were not darkened by long or painful illness. Only eight days after she took to her bed, her pure spirit was released. The death-angel came swiftly, and spared her that which she most dreaded—a slow, lingering, suffering decline. She was conscious and cheerful until half and hour before the close, when she appeared to fall into a deep sleep, broken only by the difficult breathing which betokened the rapid progress of pneumonia. 0004 To those who mourn the loss of one of the purest souls which the earth held, her life of fortitude and resignation remains a precious example. In the words of one of the best of women, who knew and loved her—“She was so wise, so true, so good, so noble, we shall always think of her as one of the saints—the most precious of the saints.” To her who never, in word or thought, praised herself, it may matter little what tribute of gratitude or praise her memory wins from others. But to those who knew the sweetness and the strength of her nature, and the virtues that shone in her daily life, no words can adequately express the love and admiration which her gentle character inspired.

On a beautiful afternoon in May a simple memorial service was held at her late residence, which was wholly filled by her friends, sincere mourners at her departure from the world. Robed in white and garlanded with pure and fragrant flowers brought by loving hands, she seemed to lie in a tranquil and pleasant sleep. As the procession moved to the suburban cemetery of Rock Creek, she was borne to rest amid arching trees in the green foliage of spring, while a flood of sunlight poured its gentle beams on the white marble tomb.

SUBSTANCE OF ADDRESS BY REV. R. R. SHIPPEN AT THE FUNERAL SERVICE, MAY 13, 1892.

After selections from Scripture: “In addition to these words of Holy Writ for our instruction and consolation, let me read to you these lines by Mrs. Stowe: Still, still with Thee, O God, when morning breaketh, When the bird waketh, and the shadows flee; Fairer than morning, lovelier than the daylight, Dawns the sweet consciousness, I am with Thee. ******** When sinks the soul, subdued by toil, to slumber, Its closing eye looks up to Thee in prayer; Sweet the repose beneath thy wings o'ershading, But sweeter still to wake and find Thee there. So shall it be at last in that bright morning, When the soul waketh, and life's shadows flee; Oh, in that hour, fairer than daylight dawning, Shall rise the glorious thought, I am with Thee. “Also these words of Whittier: God giveth quietness at last! The common way once more is passed From pleading tears and lingerings fond, To fuller life and love beyond. Fold the rapt soul in your embrace, Dear ones familiar with the place! While to the gentle greetings there We answer here with murmured prayer. 0006 What to shut eyes hath God revealed? What hear the ears that death has sealed? What undreamed beauty passing show Requites the loss of all we know? O, silent land to which we move! Enough if there alone be love. And mortal need can ne'er outgrow What it is waiting to bestow! O, pure soul! from that far off shore Float some sweet song the waters o'er; Our faith confirm, our fears dispel, With the dear voice we loved so well!

“Sweetly our dear friend seems to sleep. After life's weariness she is at rest and in peace. So God giveth to his beloved sleep. She has exchanged the limitations of time and sense for the fuller freedom and larger life beyond. We linger amid the shadows of mortality and walk in the dark valley. Not for her, but for ourselves we need to pray.

“We would not indulge in vain eulogy. She herself would forbid it. The best words at the preacher's command would indeed seem inadequate to the thought of those who knew and loved her. Not for her sake, but for our own, it is well to take to heart the lesson of her life. In the relations of home, of church, and of society she was loyal, sweet, and true. Borne up by a devout religious faith, to it she bore her full testimony and witnessed a good confession. 0007 “I always love to think of the sweet flowers we lay upon the casket as speaking not only of our mortality-fading as the flower, here to-day and gone to-morrow—but repeating for us Jesus' lesson of the lily; of the Heavenly Father's unfailing love and care, and reminding us that He who from the ice and desolation of the winter time brings the fresh spring bloom, can from the seeming death of the grave bring the souls of his children into new life in His nearer presence, in a home of larger love, and a garden of unfading flowers.

“The event that brings us hither draws all hearts tenderly together. Opinions that separate are superficial. The deep experiences of life and death bring us face to face with the great spiritual qualities that summon profoundest faith. Would that our faith in Jesus might give us the faith of Jesus in the immortal hope and the goodness of God. Besides his words of duty and brotherhood, these are the two primal and grand faiths of His gospel: that in the House of many Mansions the world beyond is real and sure, and we are in the keeping of a good Father who doeth all things well, our best Friend forever.

“Not by multitude of deeds, but by high quality of life, we best serve God and man. In brief ministry Jesus manifested the divine quality of character that is transforming the world. With fidelity and sweetness our dear friend completed her work and finished her course. As tenderly we say farewell, let it be with devout gratitude for memories unspeakably fragrant and precious.” 0008 Dr. E. M. Gallaudet read, with deep feeling, this selection from the “Elegiac Stanzas” of Wordsworth: O, for a dirge! But why complain? Ask rather a triumphal strain When virtue's race is run; A garland of immortal boughs To bind around the Christian's brows, Whose glorious work is done. We pay a high and holy debt; No tears of passionate regret Shall stain this votive lay; Ill-worthy, brothers, were the grief That flings itself on wild relief, When Saints have passed away. Was ever Spirit that could bend So graciously?-that could descend, Another's need to suit, So promptly from her lofty throne? In works of love, in these alone, How restless, how minute! Then hushed be every thought that springs From out the bitterness of things; Her quiet is secure; No thorns can pierce her tender feet, Whose life was, like the violet, sweet, As climbing jasmine, pure. Thou takest not away, O Death! Thou strik'st—and absence perisheth, Indifference is no more; The future brightens on our sight; For on the past hath fallen a light That tempts us to adore.