Elizabeth’s Mother was a person of no common character. She had been left an orphan at sixteen years of age. She had spent many years in service, and at the conclusion of this time, had married. Her character was one of great decision, and warmth of feeling. She was a person of singular benevolence, and filled a valuable post amongst her afflicted neighbours, and in our District Society. Her great sympathy with others, and her uncommon power of body and of mind, had led her to give up days and nights to nursing her neighbours. This labour eventually undermined, and permanently injured her vigorous constitution. Those only, who saw her in her afflictions, can be aware of the deep feeling which dwelt in her heart. She was in the habit of reading a variety of common books which fell in her way. I remember some very curious questions, which she once put to me on the family of an individual, which had figured in the History of England. Her piety was ardent. It was her habit to retire every afternoon to her chamber for prayer. She had not, perhaps, as much of adherence to the forms of the Church as her husband, although she was zealously attached to it, and a constant frequenter of its services. She was very peculiarly observant of statements of doctrine, made in the Public Ministry, giving the most marked preference to those which freely offered the grace of God to all. She had been led to very deep seriousness of religious feeling by the ardent piety and interesting death of her second daughter, who exemplified, during eleven weeks of painful sickness, an attainment in religion, which afforded the fullest assurance of her joyful entry into the everlasting kingdom of her Lord and Saviour. That daughter had taken a somewhat higher course of mental pursuit, than any of her family. She was accustomed to express her devout feeling in verse, and a copy book has been put into my hands, containing a variety of little poems, which at least shew her sweetness of mind, and her knowledge of religion. I cannot forbear quoting one of them, not particularly for its excellence, but because it serves to prove, in reply to the charge often made of ingratitude against the poor, how frequently a deep feeling of thankfulness may exist, which nevertheless gains no public expression. These lines are on the death of a venerable Clergyman, whom I myself knew to have been frequently foremost in acts of benevolence, and often, if necessity required it, willing to stand almost alone in deeds of enlarged charity.

On the death of the Rev. J. G. Spurgeon,
Rector of Oulton.

Hark! tis the loud knell which tolling so dreary,
Announces to all, a frail mortal’s decease;
That relieved from pain, at rest is the weary,
A Christian has entered the mansions of peace.

But it tells us a friend of the poor is departed,
A benevolent friend has resign’d his last breath,
And the eye where the soft tear of pity has started,
Is now closed, and sleeps in the silence of death.

Yet while in deep sorrow, his loss we’re deploring,
His spirit is mounting to Heaven above;
To those regions of light he is rapidly soaring,
To reap the reward of his labours of love.

Peace to thine ashes! thy warfare is ended,
Thou hast fought the good fight, and hast entered thy rest;
Still a tear dims their eye, thou so kindly befriended,
And thy memory is sweet to the poor and distress’d.

On her death bed, Susan Cullingham spoke of ‘passing the dark valley, but,’ she added, ‘It is light,’ and she bade her friends go to the grave, not to weep, but to look for her in heaven.

I think that I have rarely known in their rank of life, a finer specimen, of what I might wish the whole population of my parish to be, than the Father and Mother of Elizabeth Cullingham. They lived most happily together, and after death were not long separated. Their death I shall have occasion presently to record.

Elizabeth’s early life was such as might be expected in her station. She had exceedingly good health and spirits at this period. She was fully on par with all other girls in childish pursuits. Her disposition was, however, always careful. She was considerate in all things, not wasteful of any thing, a stayer at home, prudent and disposed to seriousness. At the age of sixteen, she went to fill a subordinate situation in a family in London, in which a female relative was the housekeeper. In this situation she was exposed to no more temptation than belongs to a servant in general. She was permitted, indeed, to partake of the usual amusements which are allowed to servants in London, but she was protected from the evils which might have resulted from those amusements, by the watchful attention of the relation under whose care she was placed, and by the preventing grace of God.

During the three years of her residence in London nothing occurred to mark her course. She fulfilled her duties, and gained the character of a good servant. She returned to Lowestoft about the month of May, 1831, in health and spirits. Her return was the wish of her careful mother, who feared to leave her daughter at a distance, without the protection of the kind relative, who had now retired from service. On her return, Elizabeth resided in her own family, and followed the business she had been taught; but her residence at home was under somewhat new circumstances. At this period certain means of instruction were offered to the young people of the parish, which, under Divine help, were peculiarly calculated to meet her opening mind. These means were 1st, a Bible Class, and 2nd, a meeting of women, belonging to the Church, for the more especial object of Social Prayer. Both of these she frequently acknowledged to have been of great advantage to her.

In the Bible Class, the Scriptures were read, and generally explained, whilst the object constantly kept in view was to fix the word on the conscience of the young people. Each one of these were invited to repeat some portion of Scripture or a hymn, selected by themselves. The meeting of women was under the immediate. direction of the minister, but presided over by Mrs. Cunningham: in it the word of God was read, and a review taken of the sermons of the preceding Sunday. Two or three of the members were then at liberty to engage in prayer. In the latter years of her life, Elizabeth occasionally offered up prayer. These meetings were generally seasons of edification to her, and very much tended to establish her religious mind: they had also the effect of uniting her with those of our Church who were likeminded. Their general result I have found to be greatly beneficial to the Church itself. It was observed by her relations that from the time of Elizabeth’s first attendance on these occasions, she devoted herself more entirely to the service of God. Her conduct was altered: she became more serious, and she had more love for the Scriptures, and as the necessary consequence, other books were laid aside: her natural fretfulness was also brought under, and her character assumed that sweetness and quietness which it retained till the end. For two or three years she went on in this course. She was laborious in gaining her livelihood, and as her health was never strong, after her return home she occupied herself at needle-work, at which, however, through the indulgence of her parent, she was not required to labour more than suited her health.

She was habitually, and by principle, industrious, feeling that it was equally a Christian duty to be diligent in business, as to be fervent in spirit, serving the Lord. I do not remember any circumstances relating to her history at this period which were of importance. For two or three years she pursued the even tenor of her way. She was dutiful to her parents, kind to all around her, serviceable to the Church, and in every way an ornament to her Christian profession. The work of conversion was obviously going on in her soul. The fulfilment of every duty, private and public, gave full proof of it.

It was about the year 1833 that she had the offer made of a situation in a gentleman’s family, of which the religious habits were particularly suited to her. Into this family she entered, and was absent for about three years in a distant part of the kingdom. During this time she had a severe attack of illness, which resulted in her return home. But as this new state of servitude was somewhat of a trial to her, and it had its peculiar burden in her weak state of health, and with her naturally anxious habit of mind, so it was calculated to exhibit the strength of principle which she had attained. I am glad to be able to bring forward a witness of her conduct as a servant during this period. When she was dead I wrote to her late master, to ask about her, and I subjoin a part of his reply in his own words.

Brighton, July 28.

“My dear Friend,

“Though we cannot but lament the removal of such manifestly bright saints as E. C. from this our lower earth, yet every such removal is like a door opened in heaven; and one seems to hear her peaceful spirit saying to us, “Be followers of me, and of them who have inherited the promises.” Blessed are such dead who die in the Lord. As long as E. C. was in my service, I always considered her as one of the most perfect characters I had ever seen. She was with us, I should think, about three years.

“She always seemed to me a model of Christian deportment as a servant, for I never saw one ruffle or ripple in the even stream of her temper; I never saw her upset or put out by any hasty order or word which I might have spoken. She was evidently always at rest in Jesus—enjoying very unusually peace and joy in believing—and this was no doubt granted to a more simple and consistent obedience than is generally seen in professors of our days. The characteristic graces of her state appeared to me humility and quiet contentment in her situation of life. She had no high sounding profession, but all was a meek, yet very firm, testimony to that blessed Master’s grace who had “wrought all her works in her.”

“When servants are really thus Christian, they do especially adorn the Gospel of God their Saviour. “Exhort servants to be obedient unto their own masters, and to please them well in all things, not answering again, not purloining, but shewing all good fidelity, that they may adorn the doctrines of God our Saviour in all things.” Titus ii. 9.

“She did this most eminently. Of course I can say little more: the incidents in a servant’s life are generally so few. Hers was a blessed constancy, an even flow of calm and established piety.”

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