The Life And Testimony Of Elizabeth Beardsall

Gospel Standard 1867:

Elizabeth Ann Beardsall, Of Woolsthorpe

Elizabeth Ann Beardsall, of Woolsthorpe died April 13th, 1867. She was born at Nottingham, Jan. 18th, 1845. Her parents removed to Grantham, and she then attended with them at Castlegate Chapel. They left Grantham in 1861, and she then went to reside with an aunt, at Nottingham, and attended at the room in Thurland Street.

In February, 1866, a way opened for her to go to Bradford, Yorkshire. She went on the 15th, and on the 19th I received a letter from her, from which the following is an extract:

“‘Dear Mother, I have found a chapel, just the right one. It is a very nice one, and there is an excellent minister. A Mr. Vaughan preaches twice on a Lord’s day, and in the evening there is a prayer meeting. I went morning and afternoon. The text was John 3:16. I liked the minister very much. They sing out of Gadsby’s Selection. I suppose Mr. Gadsby was the first minister of truth in Bradford. There is tea provided for strangers, same as at Oakham. A person who sat behind me offered me a book. I told her I came from Nottingham, and where I attended. She said she had heard of Lady Lucy Smith through Mr. Sears; also that both he and Mr. Kershaw preached there occasionally. I do indeed feel I have a great deal to be thankful for.”

“April 9th. I have thought a great deal about Frances lately. I do indeed feel glad to hear your account of her. It is indeed a mercy. I wish I could join her in praising the Lord as she speaks of. I feel so dark; but I have a desire to serve God, being persuaded there is no real happiness without it. I feel at times to pray to be led to the fountain open for sin and uncleanness, and then feel my utter unworthiness to approach his foot-stool. Surely it will not always be so. My dear mother, do pray for me.”

She returned home from Bradford the latter end of April, poorly in body and low in spirits; but during the two months she was at home her health greatly improved. A friend at Stapleford wrote to say if she were disengaged, he would feel greatly obliged by her going for a few weeks, to take the place of a niece who was ill. She accordingly went the latter end of June, and used to go to Nottingham on the Sunday as often as she possibly could. I received the following:

“Stapleford, Sept. 12th, 1866.

“My dearest Mother, I have been copying Frances’s letter. It took me a long time; but I am sure you will like it. I believe it has been the means, in the Lord’s hands, of bringing me out of captivity. I scarcely know where to begin to tell you; but I feel as if I can write more than I can say to any one. There was much I wanted to say when you were at Nottingham, but there seemed no opportunity. Miss F. is gone to bed. It is nearly 11 o’clock; but I feel as if I must go on, and tell you what the Lord has done for my soul. 

“You know I have had serious thoughts at times; when I was at Bradford, and heard of Frances’s change of heart, I longed for such a change in myself, but felt it would be impossible for me; but God does, indeed, move in a mysterious way. When I look back upon the way he has led me, such an unworthy creature, I feel lost in wonder and astonishment. O that I may praise him more for his goodness. I see now the hand of the Lord in sending me to B.; for in that I was disappointed and taught to put no confidence in man, and everything appeared cross; but I trust it led me to seek after that which is more precious than silver or gold. I have many times sat to hear Mr. Vaughan with tears in my eyes all the time. I felt I understood what he said, but could not take all to myself. I felt I had not tasted the good word of life and had only feeble desires after it; but I see now it was to be the way in which I was to be brought. The time to favour Zion had not yet come. Since I came to Stapleford I seem to have such discernment given me in hearing the Arminians preach. In that I see the hand of the Lord, as I might have been left to myself. I can remember when I could not discern, and often exclaim, ‘Who hath made me to differ?’ Mr. Knill’s discourse I much enjoyed. I felt a gleam of hope spring up from that time. I felt I was one of the hungry and thirsty souls, but have so little faith. I remember once when I was rather low, that hymn came to my mind:

“‘The Christian sometimes cannot see, His faith, and yet believes.”

Then Satan would suggest, ‘What ground have you to apply those words to yourself?’ So l went on till the Sunday after you were gone. Miss F. and I started to go to Risley Church in the afternoon. When we got to Sandiacre, I felt tired, and said, ‘Shall we go in here?’ So we did, and heard a Mr. W. His text was, ‘Her sins, which are many, are all forgiven.’ He showed there was no salvation but in Christ Jesus, that all must be brought, more or less, to a state of nothingness in themselves, that power belonged to God, that he would save to the uttermost all that come unto him, and that Mary loved much because she had much forgiven. He wished them to understand that Christ loved her before she loved him. It was the opinion of many that we must love God before he would love us; but it was not so; for when we had nothing to pay, he freely forgave us all. I was encouraged by that sermon and felt thankful we were directed to stop there.

“Last Sunday we went to a chapel here. After dinner, Miss F. went up stairs, and I felt miserable, as if I should never be happy again; but all at once I felt my heart go up in these words: “‘Jesus, Saviour, pity me, Look upon my deep distress.”

And after these words came to my mind: ‘Why art thou disquieted O my soul? Hope thou in God; for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance and my God;’ and I felt a little relieved. Miss F. came down, bringing several books, one her hymn book. I listlessly took it up, and opened upon the one I have enclosed of Toplady’s. I read attentively till I came to the last verse, when I went out of the room in a torrent of tears. It was so applicable to my case at that moment: “Yet, Lord, if thy love hath design’d, No covenant mercy for me,’ &c.

As soon as I got upstairs the thought came into my mind of Peter when he cried, ‘Lord, save, or I perish.’ I felt that he could save me and I fell upon my knees with that prayer; and immediately the Lord was pleased to give me these words: ‘Thy faith hath saved thee, go in peace.’ I sat with the hymn book in my hand, lost in wonder. Presently Miss F. came up stairs; she saw that something was working, and looking at the hymn book, said, ‘Is that your case?’ I did not like to tell her at first, I felt afraid I was presuming. I said, ‘What made you bring that book down stairs?’ She said, ‘I thought you would like to read it.’ I then told her, and she was very glad. I felt such peace all the rest of the day that I did not feel fit to go out in the afternoon; but Miss F. and I went to the Baptist Chapel at night. The first hymn they sang was one of Toplady’s, which I felt I could then sing: “‘Now I have found the ground wherein,’ &c. The text was, ‘Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am chief.’ I am sure that I have felt myself the chief of sinners many times. There was a deal said not right, but I felt I could enjoy the meditation of the subject.

“On Monday I felt many doubts and fears; but this promise was with me: ‘Fear not, thou worm Jacob; for I have redeemed thee.’

“I might say more, but time will not allow. I ask for your prayers on my behalf, that I may be led into all truth, and give God all the praise.”

“Stapleford, Sept. 24th.

“My dearest Mother, I received your kind and encouraging letter with great pleasure and thankfulness. You should come to Nottingham to hear Mr. Knill. I never saw the law in such a clear sense as set forth by him. I have been perplexed about it many times. I knew I had broken it thousands of times; and if on my keeping it depended my safety, I never could be saved.”

“Stapleford, Oct. 16th.

“My dear Mother, I received yours with pleasure, and many thanks for the ‘Standards,’ &c. Who would have thought I should ever take delight in such books? I was rather perplexed in my mind this morning, when these words came with sweetness: “All things to us shall work for good, For whom the Lamb hath shed his blood;” and I was enabled to leave all in his hands. I went to hear Mr. Philpot on Sunday evening. I was poorly in the morning, and could not get off by the first train. I very much enjoyed his discourse. It was just the subject for me. Text, Ezek. 36:25, 26. He described my case. I felt such love to him I cannot describe. He said when the Lord changed his heart, he used to feel great brokenness of spirit. He said one good sign was having a desire to hear the truth, which you had not before, and a love for the children of God, whom before you did not care for. Altogether, it was a very encouraging sermon, and I felt it a great privilege to be there. I lament I cannot retain more of the sermon than I do.”

“Stapleford, Dec. 3rd.

“My dear Mother, It is Sunday morning. All the family but Margery and I are gone to chapel. We have bad colds. My face is very painful, so I thought I was better at home. I am glad I had not purposed going to Nottingham, or I should have felt disappointed. Miss F. and I walked last Sunday and heard Mr. De Fraine from Ps, 89:34. He showed very plainly who were in the covenant and who were not. I felt before I went as if I had lost all my evidences, that I was not concerned in the covenant; but during the discourse I felt built up again. I dined with aunt Speed, and went to chapel at night. Mr. Covell preached. I liked him almost as well as Mr. De Fraine. His text was Ps. 60:3. He showed who the people were; that they were a chosen people, a received people, and a blessed people. He said a man with head-knowledge only would say the Book of Psalms was very poetical; that there were some very sublime things in it, but they were out of date now, as the church was not in such a low state. But to the children of God it was a blessed book, expressing their feelings at different times. He then spoke of the hard things; the hardest was hardness of heart.”

She came home on Jan. 6th, not feeling well, and consulted our medical attendant, and was greatly relieved; but she was left very weak. He said there was no organic disease, and he hoped she would soon be quite well. But during the severe weather, the latter end of Feb., she took cold and had on attack of bronchitis, from which she partially recovered, and we hoped, as the spring advanced, she would gain strength and be quite restored to health.

Previous to the attack she had made an appointment to go again into Nottinghamshire, all being well, on March 28th, having a desire to go that she might have the privilege of hearing the truth preached regularly, which she had not at home. She asked the doctor on the 13th if he thought she would be able to go by that time. He said he was afraid not.

On the Saturday she said, “Mother, I feel now quite resigned to the Lord’s will. I felt it very much at first; but last night and all this day I have felt such peace! O! so peaceful! I would not take all the world for the peace I feel; but I do not know how long it will last.”

From this time her weakness rapidly increased, Satan at times taking advantage, trying to make her fear it was a false peace. One day she said, “Mother, you know that hymn of dear Hart’s: “‘When his pardon is seal’d, From that moment his conflict begins.’ That is how I have found it.” She was greatly comforted and encouraged by reading the first part of Mr. E. Healy’s Obituary, particularly his letters; and on the day she died she asked me to give her the “Standard” open at the second part.

She many times expressed great thankfulness to the Lord for ordering it in his providence that she should be at home and have every comfort and attention, and be also free from severe pain. We did not anticipate her end being so near, the doctor still giving us reason to hope she might recover; but on Saturday evening, as she was sitting up awhile, she complained of feeling cold, with fainting and perspiration. After taking a little arrow-root, she got into bed herself. I said to her, “The dear Saviour sweat great drops of blood.” With great emphasis she said, “Ah! He did indeed!” Her father coming in soon after, she shook hands with him and bade him good night, saying she wished to be quiet. To a friend who came in and offered to stay with her, she said, “I am glad you are going to be my nurse to-night, Mrs. B. Mother will get a little rest.” She then went into a faint doze, and we greatly feared she would not speak again. Although I knew what the Lord had done for her, I felt to long for her dying testimony, but said mentally, “Perhaps it may be done to hide pride from our eyes;” and I was beginning to feel a little reconciled when she opened her eyes, looked first at the top of the bed, and then at us, and said, “I know you all,” calling us by name. Then, with a heavenly ray passing over her countenance as she spoke, she said, “Mother, do not grieve for me. I am all right, in safety, ready to go at any moment. “‘Whom once he loves he never leaves, But loves them to the end;” but that won’t do to rest upon without we feel it.” I said, “I feel very thankful, dear, to hear you say so; and from my heart exclaimed, “Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is within me, bless his holy name.”

She dozed again for a little while, and then asked for a little horehound tea. After which she closed her eyes again and, as if in a sweet sleep, breathed her last, on Saturday night, April 13th, 1867.