Part 4

‘I must indulge myself by writing a few lines to you, for my heart is full to-night. We have lost our sweet young friend Elizabeth Cullingham, in whom you were so much interested. Do not you remember her spiritual and interesting prayer, the first morning I went with you to the Sunday prayer meeting? I recollect introducing her to you. She was indeed a true christian. I never recollect to have heard any one find the slightest fault with her, nor had I myself ever occasion to do so in all the intercourse I have had with her, during the last nine years. Her’s was indeed a chaste conversation, coupled with fear. It was not the outward adorning of wearing of gold, or of putting on of apparel, but the ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit, which shone most conspicuously in her. Chastity, meekness, and modesty were her striking characteristics. I am glad I introduced you so particularly to her, and I think you will not forget the sweet impression of those _visits_. Her lovely subdued countenance, her neat appearance, the perfect consistency of her dress, for she was always beautifully neat. I think—I may say I never knew her expend money on ribbon or other unnecessary article in dress. I mention this as it is a rare quality, even amongst the sober and serious young people. The love of dressing beyond their means and situation in life is so common a habit, and so great a temptation to young people in general, that her correct conduct in this respect, was one lovely fruit of having her affections set on things above. O that our dear young people might see and feel the beauty of this line of conduct. By her circumspect and careful conduct, she silenced every tongue that could rise up against her. The wandering and unsettled desire after pleasure, was quite subdued in her. She was content to lead a quiet, sober, religious life. She found it better to avoid the general society of young persons, and was sweetly content in the situation in which God had placed her; setting an example to other young women of the beauty of a retired and modest demeanour, avoiding from taste, as well as principle, all society that was not religious. She felt that light and trifling intercourse with those whose hearts followed after vanity and pleasure, was unprofitable and hurtful. O how blessed it is to see young persons turn away from following vanity! To see as a fruit of religion, a separation from the world, from the manners, the appearance, and the spirit of it. I saw all this in Elizabeth. She had for many years been a member of our women’s meeting, and though one of the youngest, her ardent love of the ministry under which she lived, her Christian experience, and occasionally her prayers, were a help and comfort to our society, and she was most persevering, though often very ill.

‘I must also notice her example in the house of God. There was no lightness, or carelessness in her demeanour, but her mind seemed to be filled with the sense of the divine presence, and to be thirsting after the knowledge of his truth; she gave the deepest attention to the preacher’s word. No religious mind can shew lightness in the house of God. How often have I enjoyed sweet sympathy with her, when sitting near her in her usual seat at St. Peter’s Chapel. Have we not endeavoured to “pray with the Spirit, and to sing with the understanding also?” I could weep from my heart to find her seat empty. She met patiently her many trials, and meekly bowed her head to the will of God. The awful death of her father in the yawl, had deeply afflicted her; indeed she never recovered the shock: but I may say, under every trial and bodily suffering, of which she had much, I never heard her complain, but with calm serenity she yielded herself unto the Lord.

‘I had the privilege of visiting her the day before her death, and found her sweetly serene and happy, full of confidence in her Saviour; delighting in prayer, and evidently finding it “sweet to lie passive in her Saviour’s hands,” and to know no will but his. And the next day, a few hours before her end, can I ever forget the solemn impressive scene of our partaking of the body and blood of Christ together in the Holy Sacrament; her deep attention—her response to the words of the service—her fervent manner in taking the bread, as a sign or seal of her living upon Christ, who was to her soul the bread of life, and her drinking the wine as an emblem of that blood, that she had felt to be so _precious_?’

‘After this solemn communion together, we united in earnest prayer and thanksgiving on her account, that the works in her might be finished in righteousness, and that she might soon find herself in the glorious mansions prepared for her, by the beloved of her soul. She appeared perfectly sensible, and able to taste this spiritual and interesting communication with us. I then arose and took my leave of her.’

The testimony of her friend is as follows:

‘During the ten years of my intercourse with her, I have found her conversation as becometh the gospel of Christ. She has treated me at all times with a sisterly affection and respect; I have proved her a tried friend, one that would not forsake in time of trouble. Though separated for three years, I always found her the same dear friend as ever. I have often been cheered with her kind exhortation to me, to seek with earnestness the Lord, and attend at all times the means of grace, telling me they were indeed channels, through which the Lord bestowed his blessings to his faithful followers. Though we were separated in body, we were not separated in our union with Christ. When I have needed reproof, she has given it to me, but in the meekest manner possible. She was also very tender over the faults of others. I never heard her speak unkindly of any one—“considering herself, lest she also should be tempted.” She was most earnest for a revival in religion, both in our own Church, and for the spread of the gospel in distant lands. This was evident, both in her prayers and her zeal in subscribing to different societies. How sorry are we to lose her name from the number of those young people who are interested in the Jews, for we always found her most willing to aid in this delightful cause, and what she gave, seemed to be in the spirit of prayer. How often I have heard her pour forth her heart in prayer, that the Jews might be brought into the fold of Christ; and truly we may say, concerning our Bible Association, which was formed amongst a few of us, that indeed our head is gone. She was so deeply interested in it, and did so long for the Anniversary Meeting, that our subscription might be carried in, not to gain the praise of men, but with a desire to do something for the glory of God. But she is gone, and her works do follow her. May I always remember her christian walk and conversation, for in her I saw the fruits of the Spirit shine forth, for she was not desirous of vain glory, but in all points, she esteemed others better than herself. Humbly do I hope, that the grace which made her to differ, may constrain me to walk in her steps.’

The commencement of the year 1840, the last year of Elizabeth’s life, is noticed by her in her Journal, with her usual seriousness.

‘Through the mercy of God, I have been permitted to enter upon another year; and O how much have I to thank him for the mercies of the year that is passed. I have had many little illnesses, but the Lord has in mercy spared me, while many that I know, have been summoned to give up their account. O Lord what am I, that thou hast spared me a worthless worm of the earth? O fill my heart with love and gratitude for all thy mercies to me, and if my life be spared, may it be entirely devoted to thy service. Great God, enable me to live to thee. O let me enjoy all that I have, as coming from thee, and whatever thou art pleased to take from me, take not away thy Holy Spirit. O blessed Spirit, who art One with the Father, and the Son, enter into my poor sinful heart, and root out all my sinful and corrupt affections and reveal Jesus to me as all in all.’

As her time drew to a close, her conflicts do not seem to have been lessened.

On March 24. She says, ‘Being off my guard this morning, the enemy gained an advantage over me in my temper. Immediately I felt my sin, and was led to cry out, “Against thee, thee only have I sinned.” I was almost driven to despair, but these precious promises were applied, “If any man sin, we have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteousness,” and “the blood of Christ cleanseth from all sin.” O my God whom I have offended, let this be a warning to me to watch and pray, that I enter not into temptation.’

On her birth-day she says, ‘I have passed another year of my life; but O my God, how little to thy glory. I have been very much tried in my soul of late. The enemy has been permitted to tempt me very much with unbelief. Sometimes I question whether I am a Christian at all, yet my desire is to love and serve my God. The conflict is sharp, yet do I believe Jesus will deliver me. I do feel willing to part with any thing, if Jesus smile upon me.’

‘On Sunday, heard a sermon from Mr. R. on these words, “There shall not a hair of your head perish.” The sermon was delightfully encouraging. I have felt the comfort of it during the last week, having had some little perplexing things to meet. O how sweet to feel in the time of trial and temptation, that nothing is unnoticed by our Heavenly Father.

‘Sunday, April 12. I feel my health very poorly. I know not what the Lord is about to do with me. Whether life or death, Lord make me thine. I desire to glorify thy name upon earth, and find my way to heaven.’

Her usual industry and care in recording the sermons she heard, appears this year as it did the last. But I pass over all these records, and now I come to the last entry of her Journal. It is dated April 17. Good Friday.

‘I was informed divine service began half an hour later than it did. I was therefore very late at Chapel, which vexed me very much. I could not enjoy the service. My head is in a very bad state. The enemy takes advantage of my bodily infirmities and sorely distresses me. I was led this afternoon, earnestly to entreat the Lord to direct my mind to some portion of his word for comfort. I prayed with the Bible before me, and opened on 2 Cor. xii. 9. Satan then seemed to say, this is not for you; but my God tells me, “His grace is sufficient for me.” Lord, enable me to trust in thee.’

It was a strong act of faith, performed with suitable solemnity, which made this young woman believe that she should find in the Bible an answer to her prayer. But she did so in a remarkable manner, and having received the direction to depend on the grace of God as sufficient for her, how strikingly her faith led her to hold it fast, so that angel, principality, or power could not separate her from it. But how instructive is her example in dealing with temptation. She felt its danger; she sought, as the weapon of defence, “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.” The Lord was pleased to direct her to a suitable text. She received it in faith and obtained the victory. Most gladly, therefore, might she with the Apostle, “glory in her infirmities, that the power of Christ might rest upon her,” and say with him, “When I am weak then am I strong.”’

The last months of Elizabeth’s life afforded her the means of quietly pursuing her course in preparation for her end. She was unable to do more than work at her needle. This however afforded her the opportunity of calm and continual meditation. Her circumstances were entirely favourable for her state of mind. Her kind brother who resided with her and her sister made every effort to afford her relief. In the last ten days of her life her symptoms became more decided: she laid aside her work, and ceased to think of the things of the world. She herself was not at that time able to read, but she could still listen to others. On the Sunday evening the subject of heaven and reunion with those already there, chiefly occupied her attention. Her state was calm and suffering, but neither she, nor any one, thought her end was so near; but I will give the account of this from her sister and constant companion.

‘The health of my dear sister had been some time declining; her last illness was short and severe: she suffered much pain, but bore it with Christian patience and resignation. Her weakness was extreme; she could speak but little, but when able to converse, she would freely tell me the state of her mind. She was indeed building on the Rock of Ages, on the sure foundation; but she had humbling views of herself, although sweet and exalted views of the Saviour. We did not think death so near; but the last morning of her life a sudden change took place, which was better perceived by those around her, than felt by herself. As usual, in the morning we read and prayed together. She joined with peculiar earnestness: but when I had risen from my knees I could not refrain from weeping. I saw her hands darkened in colour, which marked the alteration in her bodily state. She asked me why I cried. I said, I am sorry to see you so ill. She answered, ‘I thought I was better this morning.’ With great anxiety I waited the arrival of her medical attendant, and soon found my fears respecting the near approach of death were not groundless. Upon my again entering the room, she anxiously enquired the opinion of the doctor. I told her as gently as the excited state of my feelings would permit. I asked if she could rest her soul on Christ. She said, “Yes, I feel peace; but O for a fuller assurance.” I told her we had sent for Mr. C. and her brothers, at which she expressed great satisfaction, and said, “I feel drowsy, but do not let me sleep; I have no time for sleeping; I want to speak while I can.”’

When I arrived in her chamber, she said at once, ‘I think that I am dying.’ I did not contradict her. She then expressed herself as not feeling all that joy in her departure which she had hoped might have been her portion. But the fact was, that a profound humility gave a tone to all her feelings of herself. She put me in mind of the expression of Mr. Simeon on his dying bed. ‘I think that if you should see me die, you will not see me die triumphantly. No! triumph will not suit me till I get to heaven. If I am admitted, as I hope to be there, then, if there be one that will sing louder than the rest, I think I shall be that one; but while here, I am a sinner, a redeemed sinner, and as such I would lie here to the last, at the foot of the cross, looking unto Jesus, and go as such into the presence of God.’ Elizabeth’s Journal shews this to have been her feeling. She then, however, declared her sense of the possession of a true peace, founded on the atonement of her Saviour. She expressed a very earnest desire for the spiritual welfare of all about her, especially of the young with whom she met in the Bible Class. She was dying. She asked to receive the Sacrament. I engaged to come in the afternoon, and administer it. In all this there was nothing of hurry, or fearfulness, or mistrust, but the image of a soul fearing no evil, and walking though the Valley of the Shadow of Death, with the comfort of her Saviour’s rod and staff. It left no doubt in my mind as to her state of blessedness. But I will now return to her sister’s narrative. ‘On Mr. C.’s arrival, he conversed and prayed with her; she then requested to receive the Sacrament: he took his leave, promising soon to return. She now took an affectionate leave of her brothers and other relatives, speaking to each with great kindness, respecting the salvation of their never dying souls. After settling some little affairs (this was the distribution of her little property, and the gift of some money to the societies to which she had subscribed) she looked at me, and said, I think that is all. ‘How long will Mr. C. be, I wish him to come now.’ I said, ‘Dear, I will send for and hasten him.’ She said, ‘Do so, I wish once more to commemorate the dying love of the Saviour on earth, then I will lay me down and die in Jesus.’’

Jesus can make a dying bed, Feel soft as downy pillows are.

The scene of this celebration of the Lord’s Supper I shall not readily forget. Herself, her sisters, the valued friends of her life, were before me. Her own countenance was so beautifully calm and heavenly. She sat up, but she was sinking very fast, and I feared that she might die during the service; but all the while she made the greatest effort to give all her strength to this holy ordinance. She followed me in the responses, and at the conclusion I read over to her the blessing of the ‘Visitation of the Sick,’ ‘Unto God’s gracious mercy and protection we commit thee. The Lord bless thee, and keep thee; the Lord make his face to shine upon thee, and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up the light of his countenance on thee, and give thee peace both now and evermore.’ I do not expect again to see a face upon which the radiant light of God’s countenance may shine more brightly and happily than upon this dying saint. The scene was most touching in every way. After I had done, a dear friend, one whom I have mentioned before, commended her soul to God, in a solemn strain of spiritual blessing. After a pause, at her own request, I read her a hymn. I then took my leave, desiring to give up her dying moments to her own disposal, and feeling that there were others in the house to whom she might wish to speak some last words of admonition or of comfort.

‘After partaking of the Sacrament,’ her sister continues, ‘she appeared sweetly composed, while Mr. C. commended her parting soul to God. She then looked round, as if looking for some one, and as I approached the bed, she fixed her dying eyes upon me, and said, “Happy translation.” I said, “Dear, do you feel very happy now?” She answered, “O yes, happy.” {62} Soon after this, her medical man, Mr. B., came in, and she conversed with him on her approaching end. She said she was sure he had done all he could in a medical point of view. She thanked him for his attention during her illness, and then added, “Now, sir, pray with me.” After prayer, she repeated the following lines:—

‘What is there here to court my stay, Or hold me back from home; While angels beckon me away, And Jesus bids me come.’

Some time after, she said, ‘now I must pray for patience to wait the Lord’s time. Come Lord Jesus!’ Soon after she said, ‘I would not come back again, now I have got a glimpse of the heavenly kingdom.’ She made use of similar expressions, till she gradually sunk in death, and her Spirit took its flight to the paradise of God.

The funeral of Elizabeth Cullingham took place in the usual course. It was attended, as well by her own family, as by many of her christian friends. There was nothing in it to call for attention. It was consistent with her own simple unostentatious life. A large party of the attendants met at a neighbouring cottage, where the voice of thanksgiving was raised for the mercies which had been granted to our departed friend, and prayer was offered up for all who had been connected with her. On the ensuing Sunday Evening, a funeral Sermon was preached on her account. The text was taken from Rev. iii. 12. “Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of my God, which is new Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God: and I will write upon him my new name.”

The subjects dwelt upon in the Sermon were—The course of a christian’s life; and the eternal reward which follows his death. The victory over the world, the flesh, and the devil was through divine grace, obtained by our departed friend, and now she has her reward. She is become a pillar in the temple of her God, to shew forth his praises through eternity amidst the redeemed in heaven; where “they hunger no more, neither thirst any more: neither shall the sun light on them nor any heat. For the lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.”

Her tomb stone in the church yard, bears a memorial to the truth of which all who attended upon her in her last hours can bear witness. They are lines somewhat transposed from a beautiful little poem of Mr. Dale’s.

‘Triumphant in thy closing eye, The hope of glory shone; Joy breath’d in thy expiring sigh, To think the fight was won.

‘And thus shall faith’s consoling power, The tears of love restrain, O! who that saw thy parting hour, Could wish thee back again?’

SHE WAS AGED 28 YEARS.

In drawing this memorial to a conclusion, I wish to add a few words in the way of encouragement to any young persons, who may read the account which has been given.

In the first place I wish to repeat, what I have before stated, that the subject of this history had nothing in her natural character or her situation in life, which distinguished her case from that of thousands. She was not particularly clever, or naturally very amiable, or very much instructed, or a person of great leisure, or brought up under very extraordinary circumstances. She had a moderate portion of talents committed to her—but she used what she had well. I know how prone we all are, to think that others around us have advantages which we have not, and to take this for an excuse for not giving ourselves to God as others do.