>»-;i v-*»;. ^SS^.C- eG43< r-Sft ^#*^ M mmmn ;-;: - m^tfomt^ '■' SZc-^-^Jit ."'i _ COMMEMORATIVE SERVICES AT TiETE ftjistib:rj^il. OF BLOOMINGTON, ILLINOIS, Jjovcmbcr I5th, ISI^. E D2643C 5c In PFmoFiam. Mr?. Sakaii Woodruff Davis, daughter of the Lite Judge William 1*. Walker of Lenox, Massa- chusetts, wius horn in Lenox, Septendjer 4th, 1814. She WAS educated at Xew Haven and Hartford ; in the latter place, under the instructions of Cath- arine and Harriet Beecher. On the ^iUth of Octoher, 1888, she was united ni marriage with Mr. David Davis of Cecil County, Maryland, wlio, liaving read law in the office of Iiidge Henry W. Bishop of Lenox, had settled in Illinois, in the practice of his profession, in the Fall of 1885. After lier marriage, Mrs. Davis accompanied her lius]»and to his home in Bloomington, where she has continued to reside for more than forty years. Two children now survive her, George Perrin Davis of Bloomington, Illinois, and Mi*s. Sarah D. Swayne of Toledo, Ohio. In the month of August, 1879, she visited the sea-shore for the benefit of her health, but not de- 93C434 riving the advantage expected^ she went to \wv native County in Ma8rfachu^^etts, wliere nhe wa?^ taken seriously ill with a disease of the heart ; and after lingering for many weeks, she sank into the repose of death, ^^he died, November Otli, 1879, in Stockbridge, Massachusetts, at the residence of 1). II. Williams, Esq., whose wife is a sister of Mrs. Davis. An old Spanish proverb expresses the truth that, inasmuch as wc have to die, it is sweet to die at liome. Xear to the home of her infancy, in tlir liouse of a beloved sister, surrounded by her hiis- l)and and rhildren and other relatives, her blessed spirit returned to (irod who gave it. (hi Tuesday, November llth, appropriate ser- viees were conducted at the house of Mr. Wil- liams, by the Rev. Dr. Parker of the Episcopal Church ; at the conclusion of which, the remains of Mrs. Davis were taken to Bloomington, The funeral took place at the family residence, at eleven o'clock on Saturday, November 15th, 1879, and the services were conducted by the Rev. W. G. Pierce of Champaign, Illinois, and the Rev. John Maclean, formerly Pastor of the First Pres- byterian Church, Bloomington, where Mrs. Davis was accustomed to worship. The nervices were introduced with the singing of a chant, " Blessed are the Dead wlio die in tlic L(>rd ;" after whicli Mr. Maclean read the foUow- ing selections from the Scriptures : It is hetter to go to the house of mourning tliaii to ir<> to tlie liousc of feastiiiiT, for that is the end of nil men, and the living will lay it t«> his hrai't. Lord, make mc to know mine end, and the meas- ure of my days, wlmt it is ; that I may know liow trail r am. Foi- I know that tliou wilt l>ring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living. What man is lie that livetli and shall not see death? For what is yonr life? It is even a vapor whieh appeareth for a little time and then vanisheth away. Although atttiction cometh not forth of the dust, neither doth trouhle spring out of the ground, yet man is horn unto trouhle as the sparks fly upward. Happy is the man whom God correcteth. He maketh sore and hindeth up ; he woundeth and his hands make whole. Though he cause grief, yet will he have compa.ssion according to the mul- titude of his mercies. For he doth not atflict wil- lingly, nor grieve the children of men. ' If ye en- dure chastening, God dealeth with you as with sons ; for what son is he whom the father chasten- 6 eth not. My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, nor faint when thou art rebuked of hiui ; for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourireth every son whom he receivetli. And tliou shalt remember all the way which the Lord thy God led thee, to humble thee and to prov-e t]iee,to kn»jw what was in thy heart, whether thou wouldst keep his commandments or no ; that the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that i)erisheth, though it be tried with tire, might be found unto praise, and honor, and glory, at the appearing of Jesus Christ. Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and he shall sustain thee. Wait on the Lord, and be of goo(l courage, and he shall strengthen thine lieart ; wait, I say, on the Lord. Consider him that en- dured such contradiction of sinners against him- self, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds. For as the sufterings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also aboundetli by Christ. Let not your heart be troubled ; ye believe in God, believe also in me. Li my Father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you, that where I am there ye may be also. I will not leave you comfortless. I will come to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. I am the resurrection and the lite ; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet 8hall he live. And whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die. F'or if we l»elieve that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also who sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord from liencefortli ; Yva, saith the Spirit, that thev may rest from their labors ; and their works do follow them. The reading of tlie Scriptures was folbnved by prayer offered by Mr. Pierce, and by the singing of tlie hymn, " Jesus, Lover of My Soul." The officiating Ministers then delivered the fol- lowing addresses : Address of Rev. W. G. Pierce. "Have pity upon nic, have pity upon me, my friends; for the hand of God hath touched me." This, to-dav is the lano^uasre of the heart of those from wliom one has been taken who, for a life- time, had been life of life, thought of thought, and heart of heart. It is the language of us all. I have lost a friend. So have you all. This is a 8 iratliering of friends, for none knew our deceased Sister hut to love lier. We sit down toorether in tlie shadow of a great sorrow. We can scarcely tliiiik of anything Init our loss. Such at least is my experience. I can only feel that the workl is less t<> me than it was. A light, a strength, a courage, a friend has gone from me. Yet our faith hids us look up from the ruins of eartljy hopes and joys, in still a])iding contideiice in God. rf our eyes are dim with tears, aner IHli, with her afflicted husband and son and daughter by her side, and surrounded by her kin- dred, Mrs. Davis passed from this to a brighter world, sustained by that Christian faith in which from her youth she had lived. 10 Affection has the privilege of the hour, and yet that very affection almost forhids the utterance of tliat which wells up unhidden from my heart. Let me, tlien, speak only in such terms as shall hrieiiy illustrate the life of her whom we mourn to-day. When Sarah AVo< >d ruff AValkcr, forty years airo, }»ledged her faith and irave her hand t<> l)avid Davis, she left a home where she had heen care- ihlly nurtured, surrounded hy a larirc circ-lc of friends, in one of the most charming places this land affords. She left father and mother, hrothers and sisters, and abundant opportunities for social eniovment and culture, and came cheerfully with her Imshand to this, at that time, really new eoun- try, and to this place, then a little village of live hundred inhahitants. Amid changing events, he has never passed through any rough place hut she has heen coura^ceouslv hv his side. lie has had CD ft «. no sorrows or trials whieh she did not choose to help him hear ; and no joy of life into which she did not enter with full heart. Iler life was as free and as full of heart content in tlie little cot- tage that first gave them shelter, and her welcome to friends, as genuine and graceful, as here where, in these later years, she has dispensed such ahun- dant and kindly hospitalit^\ With added years, 11 slie has always grown to the measure of new and added dutiei*. I liardly need tell you this, for she has heen identified with tliis [ilace during almost its entire history, growing in influence and in the ministry of love, as the social circle enlarged, and its duties hecame greater. She carried with her the same power to attract friends abroad that she had at home ; and mes- sages of sympathy and sense of loss come to us from all over the land. Xo place was so high, none so humhU*, which she could not fill and i^race. The secret of this was genuineness. " She did nothing that she did not do well," said one to me, since she died. George McI )onald says : " To know one pei"son who is positively to be trusted, will do more for a man's moral nature, yea, for his spiritual nature, than all the sermons he has ever heard, or ever will hear." All who have come within the pure atmosphere (»f Mrs. Davis' life, have felt this wholesome infiuence. She was wholly genuine and trustworthy. She did her duty as she saw it, but she saw it not so much a word to be spoken, as something to be done. I doubt if those about her ever heard her say much about dutv, or ever thousrht that she failed to do it. If there were any promptings needed, any 12 courage to be strengthened, any challenge of her- self to be faithful to the gifts and opportunities God had given her, they were sought in her secret communings witli Ilini who ha8 promised, tliat as our day is our strength shall be. Life was a ricli gift wliich she accepted with the loving confidence of one who never questioned the wisdom of God. It Wi\s something by which to hk'ss and to be blessed. For her the sun did not sliino in vain, nor in vain did tlie flowei*s ])loom, nor earth spread out its hmdscapes, nor the aky its ])righter hues. They wrought within lier a '' kinhms and hopes are put to the test of purity and truth, go forth the savinjr influences in society and in the State. AVe are, tliis day, in the midst of the handiwork of our friend. The impress of her presence is all about us. These walls and tlieir a(hu-nments, this order and beauty, are the mute but eloquent wit- nesses of what she was. We are ready to hear her step, receive lier greeting, and feel the breath of her presence. Around this home she carefully trained the foliage and flowers. She delighted to live among " the roses and the lilies." Her garden of flowers was never so beautiful as this Autumn, waiting to give her a welcome home. Alas ! the Autumn frosts have laid low both them and her. Instinctively have friends done the most fit thing in this marvelous floral oflering. She will be 15 Ijurne to her tinal resting place from her home, cnibosoiiied in the flowers she loved so well, but her impress and presence abide with us in the lives she has enriched. One ot" the most pleasing things 1 have to siiy at tliis time is, that lier life wius a happy one. She was content with her lot in the earlier days, and as new good came, she freely accepted and enjoyed it. All she had was held i\s a siicred trust, with iin morl)id feelings about its use. She followed ilieerfully the Master in living for otliers; ainl neither declining health nor growing years re- strained luT benevolence or slackened her hand tVoni doing the things concerning which the Mas- ter has said, " Inasnmch a^ ye have done it unto one of tbf least «>f these my brethren, ye have (l«»ne it unto me." But whvdo I linirer from saviuLT the tinal word : Slio has gone, and we cannot recall her; but we can thank (iod that, for his own appointed time, we had the dear gift. " Whatever's lost, it first was won ; We will not struggle, nor impugn: rerhaps tlu* tup w:ls broken here, That Heaven's new wine might show more clear." Ves, she is gone. And yet she remains. Her life was not wasted. It was a srood life, well 16 rounded out with daily duties and daily blessings. To-day is the hour for duty, the hour to form char- acter, the time to bless and to be blessed. We pile up the yesterdays and the to-morrows as though all of our good lay in the one or the other. Xo, this is the hour. Xow is the accepted time. " Why do we heap huge mounds of years Before us and behind ; And scorn the little days that pass, Like angels on the wind?" We may scarcely enter the sacred precincts of a husband's grief, but we can sit down beside you, my Brother, and touch your hand in sympathy, and say, " We too are afflicted ; wc have lost a friend." ! my Brother, I know your Hfe seems rent in twain. Everything is changed. You can scarcely adjust your thoughts and feelings. You care not to think of the morrow before you. But, my Brother, God is good. He has been good to you. lie gave you a wife who has been your joy and peace and rest. Her life has been precious to you and to your children and to God; and precious also in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints. And now that she is gone, she has left the benediction of a wife on you, the benediction of a mother on your children, the benediction of a friend on us all. Your heart is sore, and there 17 are long sober hours before you, but you know what she would say; yea, though dead, she does speak with all the tenderness of past years, ^'Hus- band, live on. It lias been good for me to live; it is good for you. Duties are before you; meet them courageously and hopefully. Bear the cross in Christ's name; his yoke is ea^y and liis burden light." As a mother, she has bequeathed to you, her children, a holy legacy of love and of duty done. You will find it the sweetest and most sanctifying of your memories. To-day, you can only think of the loss, and feel the sorrow ; but to recall her words and deeds, to linger over her portrait — shadow of her presence — will, by and by, bring you holy peace. God bless and comfort you all. My friends, although our lives may be fruitful and rich in good works, let us not live as though time bounded our horizon. It is good to live, if we live well. There is a dawn of Heaven in such life. If life here is matched on to Eternity, if it is the first step in the ladder that leads to the sum- mit, then it has value. But if the present is all we are living for, if our hopes are hedged in and measured by the few hours we live on this earth, then how valueless ! Only a life whose good is to 18 be perpetuated, is a blessing. Tbe sun of tbis life bat; not set. Tbese departing ones disappear to eartb and appear in gl(>ry. Sbe wbo bas now gone liad a bappy and boautiful bfe in tbis world, and all tbe nioi'f does sbe n(>\v (kdigbt in tbe seenes and eniploynients ot' Ileavi'ii. ()ui- duties in tbo present art* our bigbest privik»ges, and are the gateway to peace liere and U> glory bereafter. Let us sbape tbe present to tbe future, our li\ cs now for tlie life eteinal. Let us live ba\ing (»ur lamps trimmed and our ligbts bui-nmg, foi- we know not tbe day or the bour wbe!i tbe Son ot Man eometb. And so farewell, loved Wife; farewell dearest Motber; farewell. Sister, Friend. Farewell. Address of Rev. John M-\clean. Anotber of tbe >-Ad days of my life biui eome. Scarcely can 1 trust myself to give utterance to my emotions; and as now we are drawing so near to tlie last of tbese .sad ceremonies, I am tbe more tbankful tbat 1 bad limited myself to a few brief words of atfectionate sympatby. Katber would I turn aside, and weep, and be silent. Afflictions bave swept over me, in days gone by, and left me mourning and desolate. I bave known 19 the i^ri ef uf a fatlier stricken and bereaved ot' his children. But here is a new experience. I am Htricken and hereaved of a iherinhed friend, of one whose tender, practical sympathy in the tinit of our ijorrow, and whone generous lieart and heaii- tiful life, duriiiiT tlie.se nianv years of our associa- tion, endeared her to every nieinher of my house. Instinctively, for a moment, we think of this as it affects ourselves; and the cry of anguish is wrung, first of all, from our consciousness of personal ca- lamity. 1 am, to-day, mourning my own loss; and in thus expressing my sense of my deep bereave- ment in this mystery of death, I kfiow that 1 speak for all who are here to render their hust siid tribute of affectionate remembranee. But what is imr loss compared with that of him who mourns a beloved, devoted wife? of tho.^t- who mourn a beloved, faithful mother? To 1ki\< the light of our life extinguished, the joy t»f our lieart blighted, the companion of our younger ami riper vears stricken awav from our side — to have suddenly taken from our very arms the dearest ob- ject of our love, and to know that the grave will cover it from our sight forever in this life — this i> the climax of Death's sorrowful work. The sense of our bereavement becomes lost in the thoutrht 20 of this deeper bereavement, and we cease to grieve for ourselves as we see the darker shadow of grief covering these agonized hearts. Yes, we turn to weep witli those who here weep ; and as our tears of sympathy mingle with theirs, we press the hands of our stricken friends, and commend them to the gracious keeping of Ilim who ha^s ever given con- solation and peace to the cliildren of sorrow. It is not a mishap or chance which has fallen to their sad experience. The events of life, he they ever so distressing or joyous, are in no respect in- dependent of Him whose wise providence is over all his creatures. We may be inclined t<> wondiT that with many of his own redeemed, God's prov- idences are sometimes most severe ; but we are sure, from our knowledge of the loving nature of God, and from his own loving word, that he never willingly grieves or afflicts any of the children of men. His ways are the ways of a wise and tender Father, who cha^stises because he loves, and regards with compassion even while he lays upon us the rod of his correction. It is for our profit, that we may be partakers of his holiness. Before his presence we here humbly bow. In his righteous dealing with us we would most willingly acqui- esce. It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth 21 him good. The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away ; ])le8sed be the name of tlie Lord. Xor does he leave us to bear alone the trials of this preparatory life. In all our affliction he is af- flicted, and the Angel of his presence saves us. In the darkness of our night of sorrow, and above the storm of our adversities, we may hear his voice : — "It is I, he n(>t afraid." His own assur- ing promise is to every bereaved, weeping soul : — " T will never leave thee, nor forsake thee." Here then is the light in the shadow of deatli, the con- solation in this day of bitter and absorbing grief. The compassionate face of a sympathizing l^ivine Savior beams upon us, thougli tears may hide the vision. The hand of faith may reach within this overhanging cloud and meet the pressure of the liand of Him who, himself, was " touched with the feeling of our infirmities ; " who wept with the sisters of Bethany at the grave of Lazarus, his friend ; and who, a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief, hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows. But is this all ? Is there no bright side to the providence itself? Must we look into the face of inexorable Death, and, while we think of our be- reavement, take onlv this consolation, that it is 22 well because it is the way of a wise God, and we should acquiesce in it ; that it is for our correction and improvement, and we should humbly accept it ; and that we have the sympathy of the correct- ing Father, and we should not be discouraged? Is this all ? Xav, there is that in the transformed condition and experiences of our dear dead friend, wliicli more than compensates us for all our iiii- iruisli ill speakin*: <>'u* last farewell, and la vine: away Irm* precious body to ])e seen no more on i'arth. Wvv lifi' anioiii^ us was indeed beautiful and praiseworthy — we are witnesses of her lovely (harac'ter, (jf her unselfish initure, of \ivv unosten- tatious, Christian demeanor, of her gentleness and cheerfulness and charity, of her hopefulness and trust and wisdom ; but, as incident to the rarest Imnian virtues, in this sin-bhghted world, there are anxieties and disappointments and sicknesses and death ; and in these she shared the common lot of us all. But now, forever, every taint or trace of imperfectness has passed away. To her is no more the consciousness of the trials and fail- ures of earthlv life, no more the enfeebled bodv, the fainting heart, and pang of death. The cor- ruption has put on incorruption, the mortal has put on immortality, and God has wiped away all 23 her tears. The happiness of heaven is to her no IcniiTer a faith, hut an experience. Her sanctifica- tion is completed in the glorification which assim- ilates her to Christ. What, thougli we have here the heautifiil earth whose verdure and dowers she loved so well? there, hefore her wondering eyes, is the more heautiful, radiant Heaven, the "hetter country," " the Paradise of God," wherein is tlie river and tree of life. What, though she was identified with the interests of this heautiful city, in whose growth and prosperity and adornment she has rejoiced, these forty years? now she iii- ha])its the Citv of our God, the holv Jerusalem whijse walls are jasper, tlie foundations of wliieh are garnished with all manner of precious stones, whose gates are pearls, whose streets are pure gold, and in the midst of which is the throne of God. Here is the well-appointed, heautiful home which \[vv [»resence so well adorned and dignified, and in whose quiet, social delights she was always happy ; there she dwells in the better mansions of the re- deemed, the building of God, the house not made with liands, eternal in the heavens. Can it be all of sadness to us to-day in view of such a transformation ? Xay. in the spirit of her own imselfish life, though we are left to wait and 24 weep, we lift our eyes and hands to heaven, and bless our God that she is so exalted. We would not, if we could, take from her brow the crown of perfect happiness and heavenly beauty, and call her down even to this lovely home. With all our yearning and moaning for her presence, we would not selfishly wish that her white rolie should be laid aside, and that the company of the glorified with whom she now stands before the throne of God, should be exchanged for earth's loveliest and best. Earth is indeed robbed of some of its beauty, but Heaven has this new charm. And tliere, at the great white throne, in the image of the glory of her Lord, she waits for you, husband, children, friends. You may go to her, but she shall not return to you. Happy the re- unions in the heavenly home, as, one by one, we are changed into the same image from glory to fi^lorv I Surelv, thous^h to live is Christ, to die is gain. Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him. Surely, it were better to depart and be with Christ. But, walking in the footsteps of the faithful who have gone before us, stimulated to earnestness of purpose and life by their example, and submitting 25 ournelvep to him who knows best " the times and 8eaw)ns," we wait his will. Patiently let us wait all the (lays of our appointed time until our chanire comes, encouraged hy the a^urance that our life if. hid with Christ in G is our life, shall appear, then shall we also ap[>ear with him in i^l<»ry. At the conclusion of tlie iwldresses, tlie services at tlie house were closed hy .ninging the liynm. "Asleep in Jesus, Blessed Sleep." At the Cemetery, the words of consignment to the grave were s|>oken, and tlu* parting Benedic- tion w:u* pronounced ; and tlie hody of Mrs. Davis, siicred in the memory of all wlio knew her, now lies heneath the sod, under the fallen leaves, await- ing its resurrection at the glorious couiing of our Lord Jesus Christ.