Source: Wabash Republican, March 3, 1870
OBITUARY. DIED. -- February 22nd, 1870, ELIZABETH MARSHALL, in her seventy-first year.
She was converted and joined the M.E. Church when about 15 years of age, and lived a faithful member until her death. She was identified with the church fifty-five years.
During the last five months of her life she was confined to her bed, almost as helpless as a child. Dying, to her, was but a change -- a change of place. She exchanged affliction for triumph, and soldier-like laid down her cross to take up her crown.
Mother is dead. Dead? No, say not she is dead. Death cannot conquer a child of God, like her. True he has glazed the eye, which age long before had dimmed; he has stayed the flowing life current, and stilled her warm beating heart; he has bound her weak and wearied body, the chariot in which her soul rode almost to the gate of glory, but at the stream that soul passed over, leaving only the tottering tabernacle of clay a trophy in the grasp of death, and it awaiting that beautiful morning when years shall be canceled, and age made young. Then will it be my lot to meet her there --
"Where the music of the ransomed rolls in harmony around.
And creation swells the chorus with its glad and solemn sound."
As a Christian, her character was lustrous. She was a pattern of piety, and a noble example for punctuality at the means of grace. Her fervent prayers often filled my eyes with tears. She was emphatically a spiritual mother.
What can I say that is befitting the memory of the sacred dead? Little indeed, unless to return thanks to God for giving me a mother who was the guardian angel of my earlier days, and for her past attention, and her solicitude for my temporal, spiritual and eternal welfare. For all her vigilance through sleepless nights, for all her tenderness in affliction, for all her watchful care over my erring heart, for all her tears and prayers for my salvation, and for her undying sympathy for me and mine (which a mother only can feel). I now make this full acknowledgment.
A better and happier home is hers to enjoy. Hope, the anchor of the soul, was safely cast in the celestial harbor. She is now permitted to view the city of our God. First its towers, tipped with gold, then its magnificent dome and jasper walls; yonder rolls in its majestic sweep, the River of Life; upon those distant mountains are the pastures of God's people. And now she is permitted to enjoy the society of loved forms in their bright and celestial abode.
May her children be more like her in life, noble and effective; in death, serene and triumphant.
North Manchester, February 28, 1870.