‘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:—