(Ithaca Journal and Advertiser; Ithaca, NY. Wednesday, September 2, 1863, page 2.)
DIED.
In this village, on Tuesday morning, August 25th, Mrs. Harriet Pumpelly, widow of the late David Quigg, in the seventy-first year of her age.
This sad event by which the community has been deprived of a valuable member, the Church of Christ of a sincere friend, and her family of a most precious mother, was by no means unexpected to herself, but was one which with unwavering confidence in the Rock of her strength, and in the joyous hope of a happy immortality, she had long and fondly anticipated. Less than a year has passed away since she was called to mourn the loss of her much loved husband, with whom for more than half a century she had gladly shared in the vicissitudes and trials, the joys and sorrows incident to the journey of life. Since that hour, to her so dark and trying, her mind has become more intensely absorbed with the thoughts of her own departure to the unseen world, and when, therefore, the resistless summons came, it found her with her lamp trimmed and burning, and ready fearlessly and joyously to meet the issue. Even in the immediate presence of the King of terrors, she felt no painful apprehensions, and experienced no dread, but calmly and meekly yielded up her spirit, like one who, gently wrapping the drapery of his couch around him, lies down to pleasant dreams. Having for years been in feeble health, and often in much bodily suffering, she was not only deprived of access to many religious privileges, and to general social intercourse, but she was necessarily confined in the exertion of her influence to a few special friends, and to the most immediate circle of her own dear household. And here it was that the excellencies of her Christian character were so attractively exhibited, and that her special virtues as a wife and mother were rendered so conspicuously apparent. Nor did she fail to secure the high regard of all who knew her, and especially the warm affection of the children she had cherished so tenderly, and if the best medical skill and the most patient and untiring nursing of her loving children could have availed to avert the fatal stroke, such bitter and copious tears would not today be falling over her grave. But in the counsils of infinite wisdom and goodness it was ordered otherwise, and she now sleeps that sleep that knows no waking until the morning of the resurrection. And there
Sweet be her rest till Christ bids her rise,
To hail him in triumph descending the skies.
DIED.
In this village, on Tuesday morning, August 25th, Mrs. Harriet Pumpelly, widow of the late David Quigg, in the seventy-first year of her age.
This sad event by which the community has been deprived of a valuable member, the Church of Christ of a sincere friend, and her family of a most precious mother, was by no means unexpected to herself, but was one which with unwavering confidence in the Rock of her strength, and in the joyous hope of a happy immortality, she had long and fondly anticipated. Less than a year has passed away since she was called to mourn the loss of her much loved husband, with whom for more than half a century she had gladly shared in the vicissitudes and trials, the joys and sorrows incident to the journey of life. Since that hour, to her so dark and trying, her mind has become more intensely absorbed with the thoughts of her own departure to the unseen world, and when, therefore, the resistless summons came, it found her with her lamp trimmed and burning, and ready fearlessly and joyously to meet the issue. Even in the immediate presence of the King of terrors, she felt no painful apprehensions, and experienced no dread, but calmly and meekly yielded up her spirit, like one who, gently wrapping the drapery of his couch around him, lies down to pleasant dreams. Having for years been in feeble health, and often in much bodily suffering, she was not only deprived of access to many religious privileges, and to general social intercourse, but she was necessarily confined in the exertion of her influence to a few special friends, and to the most immediate circle of her own dear household. And here it was that the excellencies of her Christian character were so attractively exhibited, and that her special virtues as a wife and mother were rendered so conspicuously apparent. Nor did she fail to secure the high regard of all who knew her, and especially the warm affection of the children she had cherished so tenderly, and if the best medical skill and the most patient and untiring nursing of her loving children could have availed to avert the fatal stroke, such bitter and copious tears would not today be falling over her grave. But in the counsils of infinite wisdom and goodness it was ordered otherwise, and she now sleeps that sleep that knows no waking until the morning of the resurrection. And there
Sweet be her rest till Christ bids her rise,
To hail him in triumph descending the skies.
(Ithaca Journal and Advertiser; Ithaca, NY. Wednesday, September 2, 1863, page 2.)
DIED.
In this village, on Tuesday morning, August 25th, Mrs. Harriet Pumpelly, widow of the late David Quigg, in the seventy-first year of her age.
This sad event by which the community has been deprived of a valuable member, the Church of Christ of a sincere friend, and her family of a most precious mother, was by no means unexpected to herself, but was one which with unwavering confidence in the Rock of her strength, and in the joyous hope of a happy immortality, she had long and fondly anticipated. Less than a year has passed away since she was called to mourn the loss of her much loved husband, with whom for more than half a century she had gladly shared in the vicissitudes and trials, the joys and sorrows incident to the journey of life. Since that hour, to her so dark and trying, her mind has become more intensely absorbed with the thoughts of her own departure to the unseen world, and when, therefore, the resistless summons came, it found her with her lamp trimmed and burning, and ready fearlessly and joyously to meet the issue. Even in the immediate presence of the King of terrors, she felt no painful apprehensions, and experienced no dread, but calmly and meekly yielded up her spirit, like one who, gently wrapping the drapery of his couch around him, lies down to pleasant dreams. Having for years been in feeble health, and often in much bodily suffering, she was not only deprived of access to many religious privileges, and to general social intercourse, but she was necessarily confined in the exertion of her influence to a few special friends, and to the most immediate circle of her own dear household. And here it was that the excellencies of her Christian character were so attractively exhibited, and that her special virtues as a wife and mother were rendered so conspicuously apparent. Nor did she fail to secure the high regard of all who knew her, and especially the warm affection of the children she had cherished so tenderly, and if the best medical skill and the most patient and untiring nursing of her loving children could have availed to avert the fatal stroke, such bitter and copious tears would not today be falling over her grave. But in the counsils of infinite wisdom and goodness it was ordered otherwise, and she now sleeps that sleep that knows no waking until the morning of the resurrection. And there
Sweet be her rest till Christ bids her rise,
To hail him in triumph descending the skies.
DIED.
In this village, on Tuesday morning, August 25th, Mrs. Harriet Pumpelly, widow of the late David Quigg, in the seventy-first year of her age.
This sad event by which the community has been deprived of a valuable member, the Church of Christ of a sincere friend, and her family of a most precious mother, was by no means unexpected to herself, but was one which with unwavering confidence in the Rock of her strength, and in the joyous hope of a happy immortality, she had long and fondly anticipated. Less than a year has passed away since she was called to mourn the loss of her much loved husband, with whom for more than half a century she had gladly shared in the vicissitudes and trials, the joys and sorrows incident to the journey of life. Since that hour, to her so dark and trying, her mind has become more intensely absorbed with the thoughts of her own departure to the unseen world, and when, therefore, the resistless summons came, it found her with her lamp trimmed and burning, and ready fearlessly and joyously to meet the issue. Even in the immediate presence of the King of terrors, she felt no painful apprehensions, and experienced no dread, but calmly and meekly yielded up her spirit, like one who, gently wrapping the drapery of his couch around him, lies down to pleasant dreams. Having for years been in feeble health, and often in much bodily suffering, she was not only deprived of access to many religious privileges, and to general social intercourse, but she was necessarily confined in the exertion of her influence to a few special friends, and to the most immediate circle of her own dear household. And here it was that the excellencies of her Christian character were so attractively exhibited, and that her special virtues as a wife and mother were rendered so conspicuously apparent. Nor did she fail to secure the high regard of all who knew her, and especially the warm affection of the children she had cherished so tenderly, and if the best medical skill and the most patient and untiring nursing of her loving children could have availed to avert the fatal stroke, such bitter and copious tears would not today be falling over her grave. But in the counsils of infinite wisdom and goodness it was ordered otherwise, and she now sleeps that sleep that knows no waking until the morning of the resurrection. And there
Sweet be her rest till Christ bids her rise,
To hail him in triumph descending the skies.
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