e*^ m aaa 
 
 ' \
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 THE 
 
 DimTMAN'S DAUaHTER: 
 
 Su Sulttntu Narrative. 
 
 BY EEV. LEGH RICHMOND. 
 t 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION. <-^ 
 
 CONTAINISG 
 
 INTERESTING NOTICES OF THE DAIRYMAN, AND 
 A FURTHER ACCOUNT OF HIS DAUGHTER. 
 
 BY 
 
 REV. THOS. 0. SUMxMERS, D.D. 
 
 RICHMOND : 
 PUBLISHED BY JOHN EARLY, 
 
 FOa THE METEODISI EPISCOPAL CHUBCH, SOUTH. 
 
 1851.
 
 Kntered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1860, by Joh> 
 Kaklt, iu the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern Dis- 
 trict of Virginia. 
 
 STBRBOTTPEB BY L. JOHNSON AND CO. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 FRUITED BI SUITB AND FETJKS. 
 
 • • • 
 
 • « • «^ 
 
 « (. * » »- 

 
 >- 
 
 
 T?4/ 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ^ There are few works in the English language that 
 CO have gained so wide a popularity, and effected so 
 much good, as The Dairyman's Daughter. This is 
 attributable to the fine evangelical character of its 
 subject, and the charming simplicity of its style. It 
 has been read with equal interest by the philosopher 
 and the peasant ; and it has been the means, under 
 God, of the conversion of thousands of souls. Its 
 ^ circulation has been incredible. JMultiplied millions 
 g of copies have been scattered over Great Britain and 
 the United States ; it has been translated into nearly 
 every language of Europe, and also into some of the 
 ^ Asiatic tongues to aid the missionaries in the evan- 
 ^ gelization of the heathen. Its sphere of usefulness 
 r^ was greatly enlarged by the Religious Tract Society 
 fj of London, to whom the work was generously pre- 
 i,j sented by the author. 
 
 L; Mr. Richmond enjoyed the rare satisfaction of 
 
 ii knowing that his unpretending little work was in- 
 
 ** strumental in the conversion of many souls. Some 
 
 years before his death, which occurred in 1827, he 
 
 
 dXQQQ
 
 6 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 liad heard of three hundred and fifty cases ; and 
 since that time the number has been constantly in- 
 creasing. Just two days before he died, ho was told 
 of a clergyman who was very bitter against the Tract 
 Society, and who procured the "Dairyman's Daugh- 
 ter" for the purpose of showing up its defects. The 
 story, however, so charmed him, that he forgot his 
 undertaking, was spell-bound by the narrative, 
 yielded to its insinuating and powerful influence, 
 and became a subject of converting grace. 
 
 Many persons, not aware that truth is not only 
 stranger, but also more potent than fiction, have 
 supposed that Mr. Riclunond drew upon his ima- 
 gination for his facts — "the dairyman's daughter" 
 being an unreal personage, around whom the author 
 contrived to throw an unearthly charm, the success 
 of his undertaking forbidding any hint of the ficti- 
 tious character of the narrative. It is, therefore, 
 gratifying to be^able to authenticate the work, and to 
 produce such collateral testimony as will satisfy the 
 most incredulous, that the dairyman's daughter was 
 no child of the imagination — ^was not the heroine of 
 a religious romance, but a real personage ; and that 
 the circumstances which give so much interest to 
 her memoir, really transpired as narrated by her 
 biographer. 
 
 The name of " the dairyman's daughter" was 
 Elizabeth Wallbridge. Her father was born in Dor- 
 setshire, England. This county is situated on the 
 British Channel, and on its eastern side overlooks 
 the Isle of Wight. It abounds in fine arable and
 
 INTRODUCTION. 7 
 
 pasture lands, and has been accordingly designated 
 "the garden of England." It is customary for the 
 substantial farmers, in that part of Great Britain, to 
 rent their cattle to men in moderate circumstances, 
 who make their living by the proceeds of their 
 dairies. A knowledge of this fact will show why it 
 is that a man may milk a goodly number of cows, 
 and yet be a poor man, scarcely able to support his 
 family. The writer has known many such in that 
 very county where the "dairyman" was born, it 
 being his own native shire. Sometimes, however, a 
 dairyman, by great industry and economy, succeeds 
 in so improving his means as to place himself in less 
 dependent circumstances : this appears to have been 
 the case with the father of Elizabeth Wallbridge. 
 
 The Rev. Daniel Tyerman, of Newport, Isle of 
 Wight, was well acquainted with the dairyman, being 
 for some time his pastor. From this excellent minis- 
 ter, we learn that the dairyman's name was Joseph 
 Wallbridge. It appears, that after living twenty 
 years in his native shire, he removed to the Isle of 
 Wight. He married at twenty-seven, and by his in- 
 dustry as a day-laborer, and the proceeds of a little 
 shop kept by his wife, he made a comfortable living 
 for a man in his condition. He lived for many years 
 in a cottage, about a mile from a village called Ar- 
 reton. To this cottage were attached six acres of 
 ground, which, with proper culture, furnished him 
 with grain and pasturage. 
 
 Mr. Tyerman says that he was distinguished for 
 strict uprightness in his dealings, lie was a man
 
 8 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of great veracity, simplicity, and integrity, and one 
 who brought up his chihh'on to a love of those virtues 
 which ho cherished himself. But notwithstanding 
 this, he lived for the greater pax't of his life a stranger 
 to vital godliness. He went to church, indeed, on 
 Sundays ; but on his way thither he talked with his 
 neighbours on their worldly affixirs — the price of 
 corn, butter, cheese, and eggs ; made observations on 
 the weather; and told who was sick, and who was 
 dead, till the bells chimed, and they hastened to 
 their pews. But "God was hot in all their thoughts." 
 
 In this state the dairyman lived for the space of 
 seventy years ; when his eldest son was awakened to 
 a sense of the value of his soul and the importance 
 of real religion : he also became exceedingly anxious 
 respecting his parents, whom he warned to "flee 
 from the wrath to come." One day, as they were 
 going to church, the son began to converse with his 
 aged parent, and spoke of the importance of a change 
 of heart: "Hold your tongue," said the old man, 
 "we are good enough: we go to church on Sundays, 
 we pay every one his own, we do nobody any harm: 
 what more can be required?" So great was hia con- 
 fidence of his own safety at this time. 
 
 It was not long before the dairyman's eldest 
 daughter, who was then living from home, was 
 brought to a saving knowledge of Christ; and, like 
 her brother, she also began to feel concerned about 
 the spii'itual state of her parents. She frequently 
 wrote to them on the subject of religion, and by her 
 correspondence, and her conversation with them
 
 INTRODUCTION. \) 
 
 after her return to their house, she became the ho- 
 noured instrument of the conversion of both. 
 
 A few months after Elizabeth's death, the dairy- 
 man was called to follow his wife to the grave. They 
 had travelled together forty-six years in this vale of 
 tears, sharing each other's joys and anxieties; and 
 had accompanied the remains of their two daughters 
 to "the house appointed for all living." 
 
 After the death of his wife, the good old man con- 
 tinued to attend to his little dairy, as before. His 
 wife was not; Elizabeth was not; Hannah was not: 
 and Robert and William had left their father's house. 
 Yet he was not alone, for God was with him. This 
 period of solitude was closed by his youngest son's 
 returning to live with him. 
 
 He continued with his son at his cottage until 
 within two years of his death, when he removed to 
 Newport, to close his pilgrimage at the house of his 
 eldest son. Here he attended the ministry of the 
 Rev. Mr. Tyerman ; but he was not long privileged 
 with the public means of grace. In less than a year 
 after his removal, while walking over some rough 
 stones, he fell, and received so violent a bruise on 
 his hip, that for the remainder of his life, which 
 was about fourteen months, he was confined to his 
 bed. 
 
 " The manner in which he bore his long afiliction," 
 says Mr. Tyerman, "was truly exemplary. He dis- 
 covered entire resignation : in patience he possessed 
 his soul. He was never heard to utter a word of dis- 
 content, or express the least want of submission to
 
 10 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 liis situation. Frequently asking him ■whether he 
 was still resigned to the Lord's will, he generally 
 answered me — ' Yes, sir, but I wish to be gone.' 
 
 "At length the powers of nature began to indicate 
 the very near approach of death. He complained 
 often of fever : his sight failed : his hearing became 
 dull : his ai'ticulation was so indistinct that, the last 
 time I saw him, though there was something he 
 wished to say — and he made several attempts — it 
 was in vain. Yet he seemed to remain in the same 
 happy frame of mind. A few days after, he sweetly 
 fell- asleep in Jesus, in the eighty-fourth year of his 
 age. 
 
 "His earthly remains were deposited in the bury- 
 ing-ground at Arreton, with those of his wife and 
 two daughters. Dn the Sabbath after, I improved 
 his death in a funeral sermon to a crowded audience, 
 at his request, from Psalm Ixvi. IG, ' Come and hear, 
 all ye that fear God, and I will declare what he hath 
 done for my soul,' " 
 
 This authentic sketch of the old dairyman is of 
 interest on account of his daughter. Perhaps no one 
 ever read IMr. Richmond's tract without wishing to 
 know more about the subject of that charming bio- 
 graphy. No apology therefore is needed for the 
 insertion in this place of "a further account of the 
 Dairyman's Daughter," written at Newport, Isle of 
 Wight, July, 1837, and published in the Wesleyan 
 Methodist Magazine, for February, 1838. It is from 
 the pen of the Rev. Benjamin Carvosso, a son of Mr. 
 W. Carvosso, a well-known class-leader among the
 
 INTRODUCTION. 11 
 
 Methodists in England. The -vrriter introduces his 
 " further account," by stating that the particulars it 
 imbodies were collected for the purpose of incidental 
 notice in a brief memoir of Jlr. Robert Wallbridge, 
 a brother of " the dairyman's daughter," but as they 
 covered too much space, and were withal too interest- 
 ing to occupy such a position, it was thought proper 
 to present them in the form of a separate narrative. 
 An unquestionably correct conclusion. 
 
 Any thing new in reference to "the dairyman's 
 daughter," says Mr. Carvosso, must needs be a 
 matter of interest to the religious public ; seeing that 
 intelligent Christians from all parts of the world, on 
 her account, come to the Isle of "Wight, and repair to 
 Arreton and elsewhere, with all that intensity of feel- 
 ing which is awakened in others by the sight of objects 
 connected with classical antiquity. But what is here 
 written, will be found to be more especially interest- 
 ing to those who cherish the most devout and grate- 
 ful rejoicings on account of the good which it has 
 pleased God to accomplish in the earth by the form 
 of Christianity which is called IMethodism, but who 
 may not have heard how much "the dairyman's 
 daughter" was indebted to it for all that seasoning 
 power which had made her a blessing to so many, 
 and that in so many nations. 
 
 Elizabeth Wallbridge was a native of the Isle of 
 Wight. Her parents, who were always commendable 
 for their morality, were indebted to their daughter 
 for the knowledge of the way of salvation by faith in 
 Jesus Christ. Her father survived her many years.
 
 12 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Tic came to reside at Newport, where he became a 
 member of the church of which that distinguished 
 minister, the Rev. Mr. Tyerman, was pastor. An 
 account of him was published by Mr. Tyerman, in a 
 well-written tract, a little before he sailed on his mis- 
 sion to the South Sea Islands. 
 
 Elizabeth was born at Hale Common, in the parish 
 of Arreton, in the same cottage whence her happy 
 spirit took its flight to paradise. She had five bro- 
 thers and sisters. Robert was the eldest, and sur- 
 vived them all. He died at Newport, Feb. 25th, 
 1837, much respected for his Christian character, and 
 having been more than forty years a local preacher 
 in connection with the Wesleyan Methodists. 
 
 Leaving her parents at an early age, Elizabeth 
 lived many years as a servant in respectable families ; 
 and, having good wages, she was enabled to lay by 
 a little money against the time of need. But, not- 
 withstanding this important testimony in favour of 
 her prudence and economy, yet according to the con- 
 curring statements of all who knew her, she was 
 plainly far from righteousness. Being naturally 
 cheerful and talkative, given to levity, and rather 
 witty, she directed her ridicule and sarcasm with 
 considerable force against those who manifested any 
 serious concern for the salvation of their souls. The 
 pride of her heart was likewise manifested in her 
 great fondness for dress. 
 
 At the time when it pleased God truly to awaken 
 her to a sense of the vast importance of eternal things 
 and the necessity of caring for her deathless soul.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 she was living at Southampton, as a servant in the 
 
 R family. The Methodists had at that time no 
 
 chapel in that town, but worshipped in a room which 
 they had hired for that purpose in Hanover buildings, 
 and which was supplied once a fortnight by the tra- 
 velling preachers from the Portsmouth circuit. In 
 the year 1795 the Rev. Messrs. Algar, Deverell, Crabb, 
 Jones, and Brookhouse, were stationed in the circuit, 
 which then included what were called "two missions," 
 one of which comprised part of Susses and Surrey, 
 while the other embraced the back and east parts of 
 the Isle of Wight. In this latter section of the cir- 
 cuit it was that Mr.' Crabb principally laboured, 
 changing occasionally with the Southampton preach- 
 ers. Mr. Crabb was deeply devoted to his Master's 
 cause, and was very useful, and at the same time 
 very popular ; so that when it was known that the 
 missionary from the Isle of Wight was coming to 
 Southampton, the little Methodistic circle at that 
 place was all pleasurable expectation. 
 
 Elizabeth had three fellow-servants : namely, Ro- 
 bert Taylor, Elizabeth Cox, and Elizabeth Groves. 
 Robert Taylor and Elizabeth Cox were attendants at 
 the Methodist place of worship. The latter had once 
 professed to know something of religion by personal 
 experience, but was not now a member of the society. 
 She was subsequently restored to the enjoyment of 
 the blessings she had lost, and again united herself 
 to the people of God, through the affectionate expos- 
 tulations of Elizabeth Wallbridge, and lived forty 
 years a member of the Methodist society, adorning
 
 14 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 her Christian profession by an exemplary life, and 
 at last dying in the triumph of faith and hope. Ro- 
 bert Taylor, at the time of which I write, was a truly 
 pious member of the society, and zealous for the sal- 
 vation of his fellow-servants. Elizabeth Groves and 
 Elizabeth AYallbridgo both went to the Established 
 Church, and had never yet heard a Methodist preacher. 
 By the latter Methodism was viewed with much con- 
 tempt, and even angry dislike, especially after her 
 brother had connected himself with a sect everywhere 
 spoken against, and had even ventured to address an 
 admonitory letter to his sister, affectionately exhort- 
 ing her to seek the salvation of her soul. 
 
 Mr. Crabb being about to preach at the room one 
 week-day evening, Robert Taylor, happening in the 
 course of the day to enter a room where Elizabeth 
 Wallbridge and Elizabeth Groves were at work toge- 
 ther, he said to them, " Maids, will you go this even- 
 ing and hear preaching at the Methodist chapel?" — 
 30 they called the little room. "Mr. Crabb, the mis- 
 sionary from the Isle of Wight, is to preach. He is 
 very much liked as a preacher ; and I think if you 
 were to go and hear for yourselves, you would be 
 pleased with him." Elizabeth AVallbridge, with her 
 characteristic levity and vivacity, gave Robert sucli a 
 reply as left him no ground on which to rest any 
 anticipation of a favourable result. But there was 
 an overruling Power at work ; curiosity was at work ; 
 and as Elizabeth and her companion talked over the 
 strange proposal that had been made to them, (so 
 they considered it.) they became influenced by a
 
 INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 strong desire to agree to It, and to hear Mr. Crabb ; 
 and eventually they were found that evening among 
 his hearers. This step was not in itself decisive, but 
 still it was a most important one ; It was the step 
 which, in their case, led to salvation. Prejudice was 
 overcome ; a degree of respect was gained both for 
 the preacher and the service ; and they both resolved 
 to attend again.* Mr. Crabb soon returned to South- 
 ampton for the services of an entire Sabbath, and 
 Elizabeth heard him in the morning. Still a captive 
 to the vanity of the carnal mind, she was led to put 
 on her gayest attire, that her foolish heart might be 
 gratified by her utmost display among the poor hum- 
 ble Methodists. The text was taken from the fourth 
 chapter of the prophet Zechariah: "Who art thou, 
 great mountain?" &c. It was a memorable time, 
 and the mountains soon flowed down at the presence 
 of the Lord. While the preacher, with the authority 
 of an ambassador of Christ, bore hard on the sins of 
 vanity, self, and pride, the light of truth enabled 
 Elizabeth Wallbridge to see that she was the very 
 reverse of being clothed with humility. Wounded 
 by the sword of the Spirit, she returned home in 
 silence, indignant at herself. There was now no 
 foolish talking and jesting about things sacred; her 
 mouth was stopped; she felt herself guilty before 
 
 * Elizabeth Groves, now Mrs. T , is a Dative of the Isle of Wight, 
 
 and still lives there. She has, through grace, still held on in that 
 good way on -which she entered at the same time with Elizabeth 
 Wallbridge ; and it is from her that some valuable portions of the 
 present narrative have been received.
 
 16 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 God, and trembled in his presence. Ignorant of the 
 great change that was taking place in her mind, her 
 fellow servants were astonished that the giddy, tri- 
 fling, and talkative "Betty Wallbridge" had become 
 serious, and "slow to speak." But their astonish- 
 ment was greater when they saw her sit down in a 
 chair, and actually tear off those parts of her dress 
 which she deemed most expressive of the foolish am- 
 bition of her vain and wicked heart. Refraining 
 from her ordinary food, she retired to her own room 
 to complete the demolition of her idols, and to con- 
 verse with God in her own heart ; and in the even- 
 ing, divested of her foolish and outward adorning, 
 but full of eagerness for the ornament of a meek and 
 quiet spirit, she once more appeared among the 
 hearers of this heart^searching preacher. This con- 
 tempt and dread of every thing in dress unsanc- 
 tioned by Christian propriety she retained to the 
 end of her life without change. From this memora- 
 ble Sabbath, indeed, Elizabeth was "a new creature." 
 The full stream of nature's tide was turned, and 
 from henceforth her desires, her words, her actions, 
 all tended toward God and heavenly objects. All 
 parties concur in testifying that from the day of her 
 conversion she was entirely and steadily devoted to 
 God. She seemed to be actuated literally and per- 
 manently by the impression of that great truth, that 
 " the things which are seen are temporal, while the 
 things which are not seen are eternal." So absorbed 
 was she in the pursuit of invisible realities, that her 
 spiritual exercises seemed sometimes as though they
 
 INTRODUCTION. 17 
 
 would trench on the regular duties of ordinary life. 
 If this was indeed her failing, — if she was in this 
 respect "righteous overmuch," it is the only thing 
 which I have ever heard laid to the charge of "the 
 dairyman's daughter." 
 
 I have taken some pains to ascertain the struggles 
 of her mind prior to her obtaining that " glorious 
 liberty" which she seemed ever to experience after 
 her union with the Methodists ; but I can learn 
 
 nothing of the matter. Mrs. Y , who lived in 
 
 the house with her at the time of the gracious change 
 in her character, informed me that she could have 
 suffered but little from her convictions of sin before 
 she found peace with God, as she had no recollection 
 of any thing but gratitude and praise proceeding 
 from her lips from that decisive day on which the 
 truth of God had reached her heart. It is, therefore, 
 probable that, being deeply convinced of her guilt 
 and danger, but having, at the same time, clear views 
 of Christ as the almighty and present Saviour of all 
 who believe in him, she at once rested her soul on 
 his infinite merits, and found peace and joy in be- 
 lieving. Henceforth she breathed prayer and praise. 
 Jesus now engrossed her supreme affections, and 
 she felt "the heaven of loving him alone." While 
 her hands were engaged about her work, and others 
 were about her, her full heart would often constrain 
 her to praise God aloud. She appears to have been 
 of the happy few (why should they be. few?) who 
 could "rejoice evermore, pray without ceasing, and 
 iu every thing give thanks."
 
 18 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 One of the first of her spiritual letters was addressed 
 to her brother Robert. It was written at Southamp- 
 ton in an early part of her Christian life ; and was 
 given by her brother, some years ago, to a gentleman 
 in Cowes, who has expressed the value he sets upon 
 it by putting it into a handsome frame between two 
 plates of glass, and suspending it among the orna- 
 ments of his own parlour. The handwriting and 
 orthography are just such as might have been ex- 
 pected from an uneducated servant girl : but it con- 
 tains the genuine effusions of a heart overflowing 
 with love to God and man. Even did it partake less 
 of excellence than it does, yet, as it is an original 
 letter from one so celebrated as "the dairyman's 
 daughter," and was written three or four years prior 
 to the date of those which have already been pub- 
 lished, there is sufficient reason for giving it a place 
 in this account; but I think the reader will see that 
 throughout the whole an elevated and admirable 
 spirit continually breathes. I give it entire, with 
 the exception of a piece of doggerel poetry, which 
 she had picked up somewhere, and the mere altera- 
 tion of slight and common grammatical errors. 
 Seeing that she had just begun to read the Bible 
 attentively, and with a warm heart, her inaccurate 
 quotations from Scripture are quite natural, and only 
 what was to be expected. I subjoin it as nearly as 
 possible verbatim, as I think it will in that state be 
 more interesting; and will, at the same time,, fully re- 
 lieve Mr. Richmond from the charge of having himself 
 written the other letters which are written in her name.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 19 
 
 Sonthampton, March 3, 1797.* 
 
 "My dear Brother, — I received your kind letter 
 the 2d instant, and you may think what a transport 
 of joy I felt to receive such an affectionate letter from 
 a brother I had so little regarded since he had left 
 the world and me. You may well say what great 
 joy it gave you to hear I was converted to God. But 
 are you the only one ? No, my dear brother. Think 
 what shouting and rejoicing there was with the 
 angels of God in heaven, that are around the throne, 
 and continually cry, 'Worthy the Lamb of God that 
 was slain, to receive all glory, and honour, and 
 praise.' And blessed be God, who hath showed 
 strength with his hand, and with his holy arm hath 
 gotten himself the victory ! Yes, and he hath scat- 
 tered all the proud imaginations of my heart, the 
 great enemies of my soul's salvation. how true 
 are those words of my Eedeemer, that 'whosoever 
 is in me is a new creature;' — 'for, behold, old things 
 are passed away, and all things are become new!' 
 
 how often would the Lamb have gathered me unto 
 himself, as a hen doth gather her chickens, and I 
 would not ! And how often hath he stretched out 
 his arm, and I have not regarded it ! But how shall 
 
 1 ever praise my God enough, to think how long he 
 hath spared a wretch like me, who drank in iniqui- 
 ties like water, and followed after the vanity of my 
 own deceitful heart, which was wicked above all 
 things ! 
 
 * By the comparison of various dates, written and unwritten, i 
 find it should be 1796, and not 1797.
 
 20 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 "It was when I was sitting under that delightful 
 man, Mr. Crabb, that the Lord opened my eyes. It 
 was the second time that I heard him. And on 
 Sunday last, in the morning, I was standing at the 
 window, and he came past, and when I saw him my 
 heart leaped within me for joy; for I believe him to 
 be commissioned from the most high God to preach 
 the gospel of salvation and peace to all that will hear 
 it. My dear brother, I know it is not good to be 
 partial to any of God's creatures ; but I liken him to 
 St. Paul, for he seems to labour more than they all ; 
 yet not he, but the grace of God which is in him, 
 and that is extended to all that hear him speak. It 
 seems as if I could say with Davdd, when he is there, 
 ' that I could dwell in the house of my God for 
 ever !' I shall ever have the highest esteem for him 
 as a minister of God and Christ. 
 
 "And now, my dear brother, as I have no money 
 with me, I beg you will apply to my dear mother for 
 six guineas of my money, and give them to Mr. 
 Crabb, and tell him it is a free gift of a poor needy 
 creature, who has been to the Lamb of God naked 
 and destitute of every thing ; and then when he saw 
 my wretched condition, with what tender compas- 
 sion did he look down upon me, and sprinkle me 
 with his blood, and give me the whole armour of 
 God, the shield of faith and the helmet of salvation, 
 and the breastplate of righteousness ! And now his 
 sweet voice still whispers in my heart, 'I counsel 
 thee, my child, to buy of me gold tried in the fire.' 
 What then -vYOuld be the dominion of the whole
 
 INTRODUCTION. 21 
 
 world to me, and what indeed to the love of God that 
 he hath been pleased to shed abroad in my heart ? 
 My dear brother, praise God for it. Buy Mr. Crabb 
 a very large Bible, that when he looks upon it he 
 may bless his God, and think what good he hath 
 done for my poor soul through the gracious influence 
 of the Spirit of God ; and the rest he may dispose of 
 to the glory of God and the good of poor souls. And 
 what is between you and me think no more of; and 
 pray, my dear brother, send your children to school, 
 and I will pay for them as long as I am able. And 
 do see that our dear brother is not in want of any 
 thing that I can do for him.* I hope that God will 
 be merciful to all my dear friends who are yet in 
 darkness. May they be filled with the Spirit of God, 
 and may they feel the pardoning love of God shed 
 abroad in their hearts ! Do, my dear brother, if pos- 
 sible, assemble them together, and prevail on that 
 good man, Mr. Crabb, to be with them, if possible, 
 (I know he is a dear lover of souls,) that he may 
 assist them in turning to God. I fear what you can 
 say to them will be of no great use ; for, remember 
 the words of oui- Saviour, that *a prophet hath no 
 honour in his own country.' My dear brother, how 
 can you rest seeing any so nearly related to you 
 so far from God? when will God cease to be 
 merciful ! It is said when the tide ceases to ebb 
 and flow, then may God cease to be merciful. See 
 them, — 
 
 * He was then afflicted, and in needy circumstances.
 
 22 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 ' Lo, on a narrow nock of land, 
 'Twixt two unbounded seas they stand I 
 God, their inmost soul conyert!' 
 
 Be sure you do as I have desired, in the name of the 
 Lord, and for the glory of his holy name; and my 
 love to all that are in him, and that are wanting to 
 turn to him. Pray excuse this, and write as soon 
 as you conveniently can. Adieu, dear brother, 
 
 Elizabeth Wallbridge." 
 
 I should rejoice to have added here an extract 
 from a letter which she wrote to her brother not 
 long after this, and in which she gave an interesting 
 account of the manner of her receiving the blessing 
 of entire sanctification ; but Mr. Wallbridge informed 
 me that it was lost or destroyed before the preservar 
 tionof her letters was deemed a matter of any special 
 moment. 
 
 Within the year after her joining the Methodist 
 society, she was obliged, by ill health, to leave her 
 situation at Southampton, and return to her parents 
 at Arreton. Getting a little better, she went to 
 reside in a pious family belonging to the Wesleyan 
 society at West Cowes. After this she took up her 
 abode in other pious families in the island ; but not 
 quite recovering her health, and having something 
 laid by from her former year's earnings, she did not, 
 after leaving Southampton, hire herself any more as 
 a servant for stipulated wages. Choosing now to 
 wear the humblest apparel, and desiring nothing 
 but the plainest food, and, at the same time, walking
 
 INTRODUCTION. 23 
 
 as she did as on the verge of eternity, she felt that 
 she wanted but little here below, and saw that she 
 should not want that little long. 
 
 As an instance of her mortified spirit and self-an- 
 nihilation, a friend of hers (who has just now gone 
 to join her above) informed me that she dined with 
 him, he believed, the last time she was at Newport ; 
 and when they sat down to partake of the humble 
 meal provided for them, she abstained from the use 
 of any thing but potatoes : declaring that so deeply 
 was she penetrated with a sense of her own unwor- 
 thiness in the sight of God, that she felt that only 
 the meanest fare was fit for the use of such a sinner 
 as she was ; exemplifying the feeling of the patriarch 
 when he exclaimed, " I am not worthy of the least 
 of all thy mercies." 
 
 In the above letter we have a striking development 
 of her benevolent and generous spirit as to others, 
 however self-denying she might be in regard to her 
 own personal comforts. There was in the Newport 
 society a pious and a very aflilicted man of the name 
 of William Adey, well known and much esteemed : 
 but at this time he and his wife were poor and much 
 distressed. The charitable dairyman's daughter, 
 now residing at Cowes, heard of his case, and for- 
 warded for him a small parcel to a mutual friend 
 residing at Newport, who took it at once to his 
 needy brother, and carelessly throwing it on the 
 table, said, with apparent unconcern, " I wish you 
 may find a guinea in it." On opening its careful 
 foldings, to their agreeable and grateful surprise, it
 
 24 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 did contain "a guinea for "William Adey, presented 
 to him by Elizabeth Wallbridge." William told me 
 this himself, with much emotion, on his dying-bed, 
 on my incidentally asking him if he knew any thing 
 of her. He added, "0 she was a good creature! and 
 at another time, when she knew I was in want, she 
 kindly sent me half a guinea." 
 
 She lived in the spirit of obedience to that useful 
 direction of Methodism, "Exhort, instruct, reprove 
 all you have any intercourse with." None were 
 spared ; not even old professors, when she saw any 
 hope of being useful. And a word of exhortation or 
 reproof was sometimes followed by an act of kind- 
 ness in reference to temporal circumstances, in order 
 to enforce attention to matters of higher moment. 
 A little before her death, happening to be at a house 
 in Newport, a neighbour stepped in, a poor woman, 
 and destitute of religion. Elizabeth seized the op- 
 portunity of conversing with her very closely about 
 her soul, and the affairs of another world ; and, that 
 she might fasten the words of holy counsel on the 
 heart of the poor woman, she immediately afterward 
 sent her one of her own gowns, of some value. 
 
 Such was "the dairyman's daughter," when she 
 so providentially fell into the hands of the Rev. Legh 
 Richmond. Till that period it does not appear that 
 she had intercourse with any other Christian friends 
 but the Methodists. By them her dying-bed was 
 surrounded, and they followed her remains to the 
 grave. The "remarkably decent-looking woman," 
 of whom Mr. Richmond speaks in his beautiful
 
 INTRODUCTION. 25 
 
 description of Elizabeth's funeral, was the late Mrs. 
 Prangnell, of Merston, the leader of the class there, 
 and truly a mother in our Israel: in whose class 
 Elizabeth occasionally met, and of whom an interest- 
 ing memoir was published by the Rev. A. B. Seeker- 
 son, when he travelled in the island. The singing 
 in the open air, with which Mr. Richmond was so 
 surprised, delighted, and edified, and of which he 
 has given an account at once impressive and at- 
 tractive, was led by one who has been an important, 
 and is now a venerable, member of the Wesleyan 
 society at Nevrport. 
 
 As this account has been written partly to correct 
 a mistake into which Mr. Richmond has fallen, it is 
 necessary to take some notice of it before I close. 
 He not only gives no hint of the fact that "the dairy- 
 man's daughter" was a Methodist, — this might have 
 been very proper, circumstanced as he was, — but he 
 conducts the reader to the full impression that she 
 was indebted to a clergyman of the Established 
 Church for the instrumentality of her conversion. 
 By this means, not only are those deprived of the 
 honour which is their due, but it is ascribed to a 
 quarter to which it does not belong. On this account 
 the author of that perhaps unequalled tract has been 
 even severely censured, — not indeed by those who 
 had the privilege of knowing his character, and his 
 truly catholic and most affectionate spirit, but by 
 those who have been imperfectly informed of the 
 facts of the case. The matter is scarcely worth ex- 
 
 3
 
 26 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 planation, except as it is one of those overwhelmingly 
 numerous instances which abundantly prove that 
 God does vs^ork, not as though bestowing his "un- 
 covenanted mercies" sparingly, occasionally, and as 
 an evident exception to his established order, but 
 liberally, constantly, regularly, by the instrumentality 
 of persons not occupying a certain position in what 
 has too often been asserted to be the exclusive oi'der 
 of the ministry. By those who are not in that order 
 God so evidently works, that he is plainly blessing 
 an instrumentality which he himself has created, 
 and which, therefore, he recognizes; and is not over- 
 ruling in mercy the evil product of human infirmity, 
 and making it an occasion of good. 
 
 Whether Mr. Richmond did or did not know that 
 Elizabeth Wallbridge was a member of the Methodist 
 society, I cannot learn; but I have a full conviction 
 that, when he represents her as informing him that 
 she was awakened in the "Established Church" by 
 a sermon from a missionaiy clergyman, it Avas a 
 mere mistake, very naturally resulting from the im- 
 perfect recollection he would have of the terms which 
 she employed. Mr. Crabb would at that time be 
 called a missionary, as the tract of country over 
 which his labours were spread would then be called 
 a home mission among us ; and as Mr. Richmond 
 wrote from memory, some years after the events had 
 occurred, and when he had left the island, and resided 
 in another part of the kingdom, he might easily con- 
 found the words which were floating in his memory, 
 and suppose it was some wind-bound missionary
 
 INTRODUCTION. 27 
 
 who had come ashore at the island while the vessel 
 was detained on the coast. 
 
 As the Rev. J. Crabb is still living, now a venera- 
 ble and highly respected minister of a congregation 
 at Southampton, and has very kindly furnished the 
 writer of this account with a letter on the subject, 
 an extract from it will set the matter in a clear and 
 candid light. Mr. Crabb says : 
 
 "You request nie to give you some information 
 relating to the conversion of the late Elizabeth 
 Wallbridge, known by the name of ' the dairyman's 
 daughter.' Perhaps it is known to thousands that 
 I was the honoured, though unworthy instrument 
 of leading her to Christ Jesus, her only and dearest 
 friend. Several friends have urged me many times 
 publicly to correct the little inaccuracies in Mr. 
 Richmond's narrative; but I have felt very unwill- 
 ing to do it, lest I should in any measure lessen the 
 importance and value of the tract; especially as these 
 little mistakes no more affect the truth of the facts 
 stated, than if a man were, through forgetfulness, to 
 make a mistake as to the right name of the person 
 by whom a very fruitful vineyard had been planted. 
 What does that signify when it is seen that the trees 
 live and bear fruit? And no one doubts the fact 
 that it is the supreme Ruler of the universe who gave 
 life to the trees, and who preserves them in life. I 
 was well acquainted with that highly and deservedly 
 beloved servant of Christ, who visited the interesting 
 family in their affliction ; and I once ventured to ask 
 him, at his own house, 'Pray, did you know the
 
 28 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 instrument of Elizabeth's conversion?' 'No,' was 
 the answer: 'but I expect it was under the ministry 
 of a missionary who was going abroad to New South 
 Wales,— I think it must have been Mr. Marsden.' 
 The remark evidently showed how he had misunder- 
 stood Elizabeth's reference to a missionary. I said 
 no more, only rejoicing in my own heart that the 
 Holy Spirit had converted her. Mr. Richmond must 
 have fallen into the mistake by only writing from his 
 memory some yeaVs after the events had occurred, 
 and not having understood at the time the exact im- 
 port of the words which fell from the dying lips of 
 Elizabeth. I lost sight of her myself for several 
 years, being obliged to retire from my public duties 
 on account of ill health ; but one day a friend came 
 to me and said, 'I have a guinea sent to me by the 
 brother of Elizabeth Wallbridge for you. It comes 
 from her death-bed, and she desires your acceptance 
 of it as a small token of Christian love to you as the 
 instrument of her conversion.' I valued the manner 
 in which it was done, and received the token as the 
 grateful gift of a dying Christian. I love her memory, 
 and rejoice that the memoir has been the instrument 
 of converting and comforting thousands of my poor 
 fellow-sinners ; and I most fervently pray that it may 
 long continue to be a blessing to the church and to 
 the world. And I trust also that your account of 
 dear Elizabeth may satisfy all who have heard im- 
 perfect statements of the business. May all the glory 
 be given to God for all his grace bestowed on us 
 mortals !"
 
 INTRODUCTION. 29 
 
 This sainted young woman, the influence of ■whose 
 fervent and consistent piety has been so extensively 
 diffused, and is still operating on so large a scale, 
 died at Hale Common, in the parish of Arreton, in 
 the full triumph of faith and hope. May 30th, 1801, 
 in the thirty-first year of her age. On this interest- 
 ing spot, where "the dairyman's daughter" breathed 
 forth her dying prayers, and where " the chariot of 
 Israel and the horsemen thereof" rested for a mo- 
 ment to receive her happy spirit as it was delivered 
 from the burden of the flesh, a very neat little Me- 
 thodist chapel has, not long ago, been opened. 
 
 It is very natural for the intelligent reader of Mr. 
 Richmond's narrative to express astonishment at the 
 beauty of style and force of thought which charac- 
 terize the letters of "the dairyman's daughter." 
 Indeed, their genuineness has been questioned by 
 not a few. The specimen, however, contained in the 
 foregoing interesting "account" from the pen of Mr. 
 Carvosso, goes far to prove that the letters ascribed 
 to her by Mr. Richmond were really written by her, 
 and were not made to orde)\ as some have supposed. 
 Mr. Grimshaw, the biographer of Mr. Richmond, 
 was at one time a little skeptical on this point ; but 
 on mentioning the subject to Mr. Richmond, the lat- 
 ter produced some of the original letters, which, upon 
 careful examination, were found to be identical with 
 those which had been given to the public, with the 
 exception of orthographical corrections and the occa- 
 sional change of a word. 
 
 A few years since, the late Rev. Joseph Hughes, a 
 
 3*
 
 30 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Baptist minister, one of the secretaries of the British 
 and Foreign Bible Society, in company with a friend, 
 visited the cottage in which "the dairyman's daugh- 
 ter" had resided, and inquired of her brother whether 
 or not the circumstances of the story were precisely 
 true. Mr. Wallbridge replied that there was only 
 one fact that was misrepresented. Being asked, with 
 some degree of anxiety, what that fact was, he said 
 that Mr. Richmond had described a "vine," trained 
 near the side of the window, whereas it was not a 
 vine, but an apjj?e tree! The circumstances concern- 
 ing which he bore testimony were those, of course, 
 connected with that portion of her life spent on her 
 native island. Mr. Richmond's account of her con- 
 version refers to circumstances which transpired 
 when she was at service in Southampton. Mr. Rich- 
 mond's error in regard to the instrument of her con- 
 version, together with his failure to notice her con- 
 nection with the Wesleyan Methodists — confessedly 
 a small matter — is satisfactorily accounted for by 
 Mr. Carvosso. There is no need of further remarks 
 on this point. 
 
 Shortly after Mr. Richmond's death, his son-in-law, 
 the Rev. John Ayre, published an edition of " The 
 Dairyman's Daughter," containing several additional 
 letters from this remarkable woman and two others 
 written to her by Mr. Richmond. These letters are 
 subjoined. They abundantly prove that Elizabeth 
 Wallbridge was equal to the task of writing those 
 that have been attributed to her by her biographer. 
 They are well charged with quotations from Mr.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 Wesley's hymns, for which she seems to have had a 
 great passion. It is remarkable, too, that she cites 
 those that are expressive of the loftiest grade of reli- 
 gious experience, and evidently enters into the spirit 
 of the rapturous strains of that fervid poet. The 
 constant use of the Bible, the book of Common 
 Prayer, and Wesley's Hymn Books, will account for 
 the correctness, purity, and elevation of her style. 
 The first two of the following letters were addressed 
 to her father. Mr. Ayre has omitted those passages 
 which are strictly personal and private. 
 
 TO MR. JOSEPH WALLBRIDGE. 
 
 Southampton, Feb. 23, 1797. 
 
 My dear and honoured Father, — 
 
 ***** * X- * 
 
 And now, my dear father, I do not know what to 
 say to change the scene. I suppose you were a little 
 alarmed the other day, when the fleet of colliers came 
 in, and they were taken for French. It was reported 
 here that they were landed in several places ; and we 
 should soon have been over in the island for shelter 
 from them; as if by that means we could "flee from 
 the wrath to come," or stay the hand of an almighty 
 and justly avenging God, who for the sins of mankind 
 has sent his judgments abroad in the earth. And 
 even now we are ready to say to that God who hath 
 so long withheld the sword of vengeance from destroy- 
 ing us, and still extends his everlasting arms of mercy 
 to save us — "Depart from us," — for we desire not the
 
 32 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 knowledge of him. But I hope, my dear father, that 
 the Lord will have mercy on us, and bring us out of 
 that gross darkness into his marvellous light, and 
 set our feet on a rock that is higher than we are. 
 But we are informed by the word of God, that if we 
 would have all these blessings bestowed on us, we 
 must fix all our hopes and our faith on the blessed 
 Lamb of God that was slain to redeem the fallen 
 children of Adam. For, "as in Adam all died, so 
 shall aU" true believers "in Christ be made alive" 
 to God: and then, my dear father, we may say, 
 
 "Prisoners of hope, lift up your heads, 
 
 The day of liberty draws near ; 
 Jesus, who on the serpent treads, 
 
 Shall soon in your behalf appear : 
 The Lord will to his temple come, 
 Prepare your hearts to make him room." 
 
 My dear father, I hope that God will not suffer 
 sickness or death ever to surprise us unawares, or 
 find us in a state unprepared. 
 
 Please to give my duty to my dear and tender 
 mother, and accept the same yourself, and love to 
 dear brothers and sisters; and may the blessed 
 Spirit of God be very powerful in all your hearts to 
 root out every evil. 
 
 LETTER IL 
 
 Southampton, April 11, 1797. 
 My dear Father, — I have been silent longer than 
 I should, had my dear sister written before : but as
 
 INTRODUCTION, 33 
 
 I know all things are guided and governed by Him 
 whom my soul loveth, I wait patiently his appointed 
 lime. 0, my dear father, it is good to trust in him, 
 to call upon him, to honour his holy name. 0, if 
 you have not tasted how good and gracious the Lord 
 is, then turn and seek him while he may be found. 
 None ever sought his glorious face in vain ; and those 
 ■'that come unto me (saith the dear Lamb of God) I 
 will Ln no vrise cast out." No: his tender love, pity, 
 and compassion never fail to poor sinners. No : 
 though my dear mother and father have lived near 
 to the time that my God hath said shall be the age 
 of man; and ye have stUl been sinning and grieving, 
 and hiding as it were your faces from that God who 
 is still pursuing you with his love and mercy, yea, 
 even the blessed Jesus, who is still making interces- 
 sion for sinners at his Father's right hand. And 
 
 " When Justice bared the sword 
 
 To cut the fig-tree down, 
 The pity of my Lord 
 
 Cried, Let it stUl alone : 
 The Father mild inclined his eai-, 
 And spares us yet another year." 
 
 But remember, my dear friends, his blessed words: 
 "My Spirit win not always strive with man;" and 
 "Except you are born again ye cannot inherit the 
 kingdom of heaven ;" and if you are not washed in 
 the precious blood of that dear Lamb of God, you 
 can have no part with him; and if his Spirit does 
 not "bear witness with your spirit" that you are 
 born of God, you are stUl in your sins, and "strangers
 
 34 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 to the blood that bought you on the tree." ! my 
 daily prayer to God is, that he will "turu you, and 
 so shall you be turned." 0! the dear Redeemer 
 still waits to be gracious: he is ever ready to pardon 
 your sins, and seal it with his precious blood : he is 
 ever calling, " Come unto me, all ye that do labour 
 and are heavy laden" with the burden of your sins, 
 "and I will give you rest." Then I entreat you, my 
 dear friends, in the name of the most high God, that 
 ye turn and lay hold of the ever-blessed Jesus as 
 your shield of faith, and he will arm you with the 
 whole armour of God. But remember this: though 
 God is full of love and mercy, yet he will be sought 
 unto. Then draw nigh unto God in secret prayer, 
 and God will draw nigh unto your precious souls, 
 and that to bless them ; and will say unto you. Be- 
 lieve on me, "my grace is suf^cient for you," I will 
 cleanse you in my precious blood, and then shall 
 your leprosy be healed, and you shall return without 
 spot. And then you must watch, and pray to him 
 continually to keep you clean. 0! he is always 
 more ready to hear than we are to pray, and more 
 ready to give than we to ask. Remember, my dear 
 father, that the language of every prayerless and 
 unconverted soiU is, "Depart from me, God;" for 
 I desire not the knowledge of the Most High. Then 
 put off the evil day no longer, lest you should hear 
 Mm say, who is willing and able to save to the utmost 
 those that come unto him, "I have stretched out my 
 hand all the day long, and no man regarded." And 
 "behold I knock at the door of every man's heart,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 35 
 
 and to him that openeth unto me I ■will come in, and 
 sup with him, and he with me." ]My dear father, 
 these are blessed and comfortable words; and I am 
 his living witness, and I " set my seal" that Jesus is 
 true. the happy state of the children of God! 
 Xow I ask and receive : I seek and I find him whom 
 my soul loveth ; yea, I always find I have a very 
 near access, through his blessed intercession, to sup- 
 plicate the throne of grace ; and now I can say, 
 
 "Before the throne my Surety stands, 
 My name is written on his hands ;" 
 
 and now I am so filled with the peace and love of 
 God, that I can lift up my soul and say, 
 
 " My God, I know, I feel thee mine, 
 And wUl not quit my claim, 
 Till all I have is lost in thine. 
 And all renewed I am;'' 
 
 and 
 
 "Where'er I am, where'er I more, 
 I meet the object of my loye." 
 
 The Lord doth so strengthen my faith in him that 
 I find all his promises stand engaged to make me 
 blessed. may God pardon what his poor un- 
 worthy dust has written through ignorance, which 
 is not agreeable to his most blessed will, which I 
 will ever seek to fulfil.' 
 
 * * •» ^r * * * -S 
 
 I have so little taste for the conversation of this 
 world, that it is very unpleasant to think on it. My 
 sister's love and duty to all. INIr. B. will be in the 
 island soon, please God, and tlicn you are to write to
 
 36 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 her. Desire my brother to write to and direct her 
 to the house of God in Bath, for she is still walking 
 in darkness and is ignorant of it. may the Lord 
 be graciously pleased to bring you all into his mar- 
 vellous light, that you may praise him in time and 
 eternity: then strive to enter in at the strait gate. 
 . . . If the Lord shall please to spare me, I 
 hope to see you ere long ; if not in this world, in 
 that where we shall bask in unutterable bliss. My 
 dear friends, take not this advice amiss from your 
 unworthy child ; it is the command of my blessed 
 Lord, "When thou art converted, remember thy 
 brethren:" and I daily take up my cross and follow 
 him whithersoever he goeth: and I pray God enable 
 vou to do the same. how should I rejoice and 
 praise my God to see you enabled, through the in- 
 spiration of the Spirit of the Most High, to answer 
 this ill-written letter! — Farewell, in the Lord, dear 
 friends. 
 
 The third letter is to her sister. 
 LETTER IIL 
 
 Coroes, October 14, 1798. 
 
 Mr DEAR Sister, — I have not had a convenient 
 opportunity to write till now : I hope you have not 
 been unhappy at my long silence. Consider that 
 God is my keeper, therefore "I shall lack no manner 
 of thing that is good." I entreat you to commend 
 the keeping of your soul, spirit, and body to the
 
 INTRODUCTION. 37 
 
 Lord, for he is a promise-making, and a true and 
 faithful promise-keeping God. 
 
 "Then let me commend my Saviour to you. 
 The publican's friend and advocate too." 
 
 My dear, I say that God is my keeper: you will 
 Bay, he is yours — it is true, for "in him we all live, 
 move, and have our being;" but I can say with Job, 
 " I know that my Redeemer liveth," and 
 
 " Now he is pleading his merits and death, 
 And still interceding for sinners beneath :" 
 
 he is waiting to be gracious to you, for he is long- 
 euffering and kind, plenteous in goodness ; his love 
 and mercy know no end nor bounds, and his com- 
 passions fail not ; now, my dear, 
 
 " R«ady for you the angels wait, 
 To triumph in your blest estate ; 
 Tuning their harps, they long to praise 
 The wonders of redeeming grace." 
 
 my dear sister, search the Scriptures diligently ; 
 pray to God earnestly ; for in so doing, you will find 
 that he is a God "nigh at hand, and not afar oft'." 
 lie has promised to be found of those that seek him ; 
 for none ever sought his face in vain, neither did 
 ever any trust in him, and was deceived. my dear 
 eister, if you did but believe how willing God is to 
 reveal his Son in your heart, the hope of glory ! O 
 how would your soul be ravished, if Christ would 
 appear to you the altogether lovely, and the first 
 among ten thousand! Then could you say thoso 
 blessed words, 
 
 4 
 
 M i^ .r* /^ jO €
 
 38 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 "My soul, through my Redeemer's care, 
 Saved from the second death I feel; 
 My eyes from tears of dark despair, 
 My feet from falling into hell. 
 
 "Wherefore to him my feet shall run, 
 My eyes on his perfections gaze, 
 My soul shall live for God alone, 
 And all within me shout his praise." 
 
 I entreat you to read the word of God carefully, 
 for in it is eternal life. All the promises there stand 
 engaged to make you blessed, if you truly repent, 
 and forsake your sins, and turn to God with full 
 purpose of heart, and fully believe on the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, that he will save you from your sins, with a 
 present and everlasting salvation : for he says. Only 
 believe and thou shalt be saved. We should receive 
 the word of God, as if it were the awful voice of God 
 from heaven. It vnll be awful to the wicked and 
 unconverted : .... may the Lord quicken 
 your dead soul 
 
 " with life divine, 
 And make you in his image shine." 
 
 may you feel the kindlings of love divine shed 
 abroad in your heart! Farewell in the Lord, my 
 dear sister. 
 
 The following little narrative seems to have been 
 intended for her own private use. It is apparently 
 left unfinished.
 
 INTRODUCTION. 39 
 
 November 30, 1800. 
 Elizabeth Wallbridge, born July 29, 1770. 
 
 I feel my mind more composed when wiiting, and 
 more free from wandering thoughts, than at any 
 other time ; for I have little retirement, and when I 
 have, it is seldom free from disturbances, so that I 
 am almost continually conversant with the world. 
 The Lord knoweth what a burden it is to my mind, 
 and how impatient I have been. May the Lord par- 
 don his unfaithful, unprofitable servant, and sanctify 
 me throughout, soul, spirit, and body, and plunge me 
 in the Godhead's deepest sea, that I may be lost in 
 his immensity! glorious hope of perfect love! may 
 it ever fill and lift my ravished spirit up to things 
 above: t7ie7-e I shall for ever love. 
 
 I thought I would just set down, as the Lord is 
 pleased to give me time and strength, a few of his 
 particular mercies and favours as I can recollect. 
 lie has abounded in love and mercy to me : that I 
 had made him all the returns that love could make 
 by giving myself a sacrifice daily unto him ! But 
 now I have to lament my shortcomings, and to apply 
 to the "blood of sprinkling," which speaks my sins 
 forgiven, and purifies my soul and makes it meet for 
 heaven. what a precious Saviour have I found ! 
 that I could make him known to all mankind, that 
 all may turn and taste the riches of his grace ! At 
 present I am so very weak in body and mind that I 
 can recollect but very little : they have been decaying 
 near four years; but in the Lord Jehovah is my
 
 40 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 everlasting strength, and whoever relies on him shall 
 never be ashamed, and shall be freed from all slavish 
 fears. 
 
 I seemed to have some fear of God, and love to 
 him from my childhood. His restraining grace kept 
 me from falling into great and open sin, and gave 
 ine such a love to truth and uprightness, that I 
 seemed to hate every false way, word, and work, in 
 myself and others. I remember, when I went to 
 school, one of my playmates, that I was very fond 
 of, used to take every opportunity to get money from 
 her mother unknown to her, and bring to school, and 
 buy all kinds of little toys, and then freely give me 
 and another or two an equal share with herself. But 
 
 how did the Spirit of the Lord strive with me at 
 that time and convince me of the evil, so that I had 
 no peace of mind while I partook of the sin, and yet 
 
 1 had not strength to resist it. It was so on my mind 
 that I ought to make her fault known, not to conceal 
 it and partake of part. I could see it a great evil in 
 the person that sold her the things, whose daughter 
 took part, and, I believe, knew as well as I did how 
 she came by it; but I never revealed it, though I 
 always bore it on my mind with abhorrence. What 
 a sad thing to yield to sin against such clear convic- 
 tions! 
 
 I was early taught a form of prayer, which I con- 
 tinued to repeat in a careless manner when 1 was 
 laid down in my bed, but very often I fell asleep 
 before I said them half. But, blessed be God, he 
 still spared me, and often drew me to himself by the
 
 INTRODUCTION. 41 
 
 cords of love; for at an early age he drew me to 
 secret prayer, where I often felt the kindlings of his 
 love; but had none to set me forward, so that I often 
 neglected this duty; but when alone I have often 
 felt great sweetness in it. I believe if I had heard 
 the gospel preached, I should have been very early 
 devoted to that God I now love and adore. But I 
 do not yet love him as he has promised I shall, with 
 all my loving heart, when sin is all destroyed. 
 happy moment, how I long for it ! 
 
 The last document is 
 
 HER WILL. 
 
 My dear father, and mother, and brothers, — If it 
 should please the Lord to spare you all till after my 
 decease, I take this opportunity to set down what I 
 simply desire, if it be the Lord's will and agreeable 
 to you all. If I die under this roof, it will be best 
 as soon as I am dead to have my coffin made : let 
 
 Mr. make it, if it is quite agreeable ; and then 
 
 I can be carried down stairs, and not disturb you or 
 break your rest. And there the angels of my cove- 
 nant-making and promise-keeping God will watch 
 over me and protect my sleeping dust; so that you 
 need not fear evil spirits, for they wiU have done 
 with me for ever, they will never assault me any 
 more: I shall then, through Christ, who hath loved 
 me with an everlasting love, gain the glorious victory 
 over all the principalities and powers of darkness ; 
 
 4«
 
 42 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 for they know that I am a redeemed captive from 
 their power, though they cease not to tempt me to 
 return to my former customs, that I may be again in 
 bondage to fear: but glory be given to God, his grace 
 is sufficient for me ; hitherto he hath brought me safe 
 through, and I know he will save to the end. May 
 I lift up my heart to him and cry — thou 
 
 " Fairer than the sons of men, 
 Do not let me turn again." 
 
 Let my coffin be very plain, neat, and strong, made 
 to cover very close. Let it be made white inside and 
 out, if no trouble ; and for my shroud a little wool 
 will do, if you like it ; it will be less expense ; for it 
 will all turn to dust. I care not whom you ask to my 
 funeral ; I want no form of young people ; I had 
 rather have those that love God, that they may rejoice 
 over me with angels above, and praise a God of love. 
 [She then names several friends loJiorn she desired to 66 
 present, and proceeds.] Let them all meet together 
 that can or will come, . . . and I trust they will 
 feel the Lord powerfully present in the midst to bless 
 every Avaiting soul, and reveal the secrets of his love. 
 Mr. Richmond, or the minister of New-church, which 
 you please; I love them both, because they love God: 
 for "God is love," and his love constrains us to love 
 one another Do not be afraid of disturb- 
 ing the peaceful dead in singing praises to God and 
 the Lamb who hath redeemed me from sin. It may 
 be, my happy spirit may be permitted to join with 
 listening angels who catch the approving sound,
 
 INTRODUCTION. 43 
 
 while all heaven's host cry — A child is born into our 
 world above. 
 
 Let these hymns be sung: the 37th, "Hosanna to 
 Jesus on high;" the 35th, '"Tis finished, 'tis done;" 
 the 33d, "Ah lovely appearance of death;" the 50th, 
 in the large book, "Hark, a voice divides the sky." 
 If the preacher please, for the glory of God, and the 
 good of the living, let him preach a sermon from 
 Psalm cxvi. 15, "Precious in the sight of the Lord ia 
 the death of his saints ;" and may the word* be 
 attended with power; a divine energy and the 
 quickening influence of the Spirit of God rest upon 
 the minister and the hearers, that glory may be 
 given to God, and great good done in his precious 
 name ; that his saints that love him may be strength- 
 ened, and refreshed, and built up in their most holy 
 faith; that they may go on their way rejoicing in 
 the strength of the Lord, from grace to grace, till 
 glory end what grace begun ; that they may be fully 
 prepared to meet death with Christian courage. And 
 may all my dear friends follow on to know the Lord, 
 and experimentally to feel the saving power of divine 
 grace in each of their hearts, that they may give 
 "■loi'y to God, and triumphantly quit the stage of 
 mortality, shouting — Victory through the blood of 
 the Lamb that was slain, who is now ascended on 
 high for ever to reign. But I would have all re- 
 member, if they have never yet been convinced of 
 their lost and miserable state by nature, that it is 
 high time for them to awake out of sleep, and cry 
 mightily to God to show them their danger and save
 
 44 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 them from destruction: for without faith and prayer 
 you cannot be saved. Then come like the humble 
 publican, with a feeling sense of your sins, and true 
 faith in his merits to atone for your sins and cleanse 
 your guilty souls, and you will be sure to find mercy, 
 pardon, and peace, and grace to help you in every 
 time of need. When I was brought home, I was in 
 great hopes I should see a great change ; but I have 
 been painfully disappointed to the present moment, 
 which often fills my heart with grief and sorrow, to 
 see sinners so unconcerned upon the brink of death. 
 But if I am never permitted to see that happy change, 
 I hope you will experience it, and meet me in glory: 
 there we shall part no more. [The remainder is occu- 
 pied with tJie distribution of her little propeiiy, consisting 
 almost entirely of wearing apparel, among Iwr relatives?^ 
 
 The following letters were addressed to the dairy- 
 man's daughter by Mr. Richmond. The first is merely 
 a short note, but it is inserted as a characteristic 
 illustration of the style in which he addressed her: — 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 It has pleased God, my Christian sister, for several 
 weeks past to keep me in a state of sickness, from 
 which soon, by his goodness, I hope to be relieved. 
 I am at present unable to say half what I wish to 
 you ; but lest you should suspect me of inattention 
 to your friendly and welcome letter, I write these 
 few lines to say, that you shall either hear from me
 
 INTRODUCTION. 45 
 
 at length, or see me shortly. May God support you 
 through your trial of ill health ; and the nearer you 
 approach the other world, whenever it be God's ap- 
 pointed time, may you be more and more heavenly- 
 minded. Peace be multiplied to you. I pray for 
 you, and beg you to know how faithfully I am 
 
 Yours in Christ, L. Kichmond. 
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 You may be assured, upon the faith of one -who 
 loves God and would fain serve and obey him, that 
 you are not out of my mind, though I have been pre- 
 vented from doing myself the pleasure of calling upon 
 you. I have also delayed waiting till now, from an 
 almost daily expectation of coming your way ; but it 
 has happened othervrise. I now acknowledge the 
 receipt of your last letter, and rejoice at the sight of 
 words dictated by a spirit of godliness, humility, and 
 love. In a perverse and adulterous generation, like 
 the present one, what can be so cheering to the soul 
 as converse with those who really know the Lord, 
 and love him because he hath first loved them? I 
 am well convinced of the propriety and force of your 
 advice with respect to my conduct, and that of minis- 
 ters of the gospel in general. God grant such a weak 
 and unprofitable servant as I am may find grace and 
 ability to conduct myself as becomes a faithful 
 labourer in the vineyard ! For who can do it of his 
 own strength ? What are the natural powers of sin- 
 ful man to work out the righteousness of God ? To
 
 46 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the Spirit of Christ, which changeth and strength- 
 eneth the inner man, we must attribute all : to him 
 to honour, glory, and praise, in all the churches, now 
 and evermore ! 
 
 I have read your two books, and find much profit 
 in them both. It appears that the life of Madame 
 Guion should be attended to with some caution, 
 which Mr. Wesley very frequently draws our obser- 
 vation to in his short notes at the bottom of the 
 pages. She was sometimes influenced by notions 
 which had not a sufficiently strong scriptural foun- 
 dation, and therefore in these things should not be set 
 as a pattern; but her love of God, and her anxiety 
 to be for ever joined to him, are lovely and interest- 
 ing. The true rule for discerning the motions and 
 operations of the blessed Spirit within us, is to com- 
 pare our feelings with those ways of holiness, happy 
 fruits of the Spirit, which the apostle describes : let 
 every thing be referred to this as a standard, and we 
 never shall be mistaken. May God so guide and 
 direct you and me to all goodness, that our works 
 may glorify — not ourselves, none but Jesus can do 
 that, but — our Father which is in heaven. May 
 numbers have reason, through the mercy of God, to 
 bless our memory; and may the seed which in my 
 ministerial capacity I am commissioned to sow, to 
 plant, and to water, receive its due increase from 
 God. I assure you this lies much at my heart, and 
 occupies much of my thoughts: seeing and "know- 
 ing the terrors of the Lord," I would "persuade 
 men" with aU truth, earnestness, and sincerity to
 
 INTRODUCTION. 47 
 
 flee from the wrath to come, and throw themselves 
 and their sins at the foot of the cross, with true 
 repentance and faith. Faith is the hand which we 
 stretch forth to receive the benefits of Christ's blood ; 
 it is the soul of the spiritual life, and the grand dis- 
 tinguishing characteristic of the true Christian from 
 the false ; it is the touchstone of Christianity ; the 
 burning coal which sets fire to the sacrifice on the 
 altar ; the sun which enlightens the wilderness of the 
 world ; the lantern which guides our feet through the 
 valley of the shadow of death. True faith never can 
 be separated from hope and love ; they are three 
 lovely sisters, who take up their dwelling in the heart 
 when it becomes the temple of the Holy Ghost ; their 
 parent is God, and their offspring, righteous works : 
 how do they shine forth in the midst of a vain and 
 wicked world, like a candle set upon a hill in a dark 
 and gloomy night ! May their operations spread 
 wider and wider over the face of the world, and may 
 the church of God increase in their fruits, till at 
 length the happy time shall arrive when the king- 
 doms of this world shall become the kingdom of the 
 Lord and his Anointed. God hasten so blessed a 
 period ! 
 I was much shocked at the sudden death of my 
 
 neighbour . Such unprepared calls ought to 
 
 operate upon those that are left behind as salutary 
 warnings: alive and healthy this morning, who 
 knoweth that this very night our souls shall not be 
 required of us? Let us be on the watch, and endea- 
 vour to make others so, for we "know neither the
 
 48 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 day nor the hour" of our Master's coming. I am 
 told that his successor has given some strong calls 
 to duty and attentiveness in religion, which I hope 
 in God will prove efficacious. He appears in con- 
 versation very much in earnest, and seems steady 
 and persevering; but I have only seen him twice. 
 In that parish you well knoAV how much reformation 
 is wanted. Alas ! into what place can we go where 
 it is not wanting? Iniquity triumphs, and presump- 
 tion darkens the very heavens with her wide-spread- 
 ing wings ; blasphemy, covetousness, and uncleanness 
 abound and prosper; men are lovers of pleasure, 
 rather than lovers of God. Does not the world go 
 just as Satan would have it? Sometimes he will 
 even suggest to the faithful that their endeavours 
 are in vain, and he tempts to inactivity and sloth ; 
 but, blessed be God, the Bible is in our hands, and 
 there we find arguments, and strength, and consola- 
 tion, and admonition, and precept, and command- 
 ment, and encouragement to proceed in the mighty 
 task of beating down the strongholds of iniquity, 
 and destroying the works of the devil. Even though 
 " the overflowings of ungodliness may make ua 
 afraid," God worketh the good cause, and in the end 
 it shall prosper. The church shall never fail, nor 
 shall the gates of hell prevail against it. Your 
 health, I hear, is weak: may God strengthen the 
 inner man, as he thinks fit to weaken the outer! may 
 his kingdom rule in your heart, though the outward 
 fortifications crumble to dust. If it please God to 
 Hhorten the span of your life, I trust you will meet
 
 INTRODUCTION. 49 
 
 your Redeemer with peace and joy, and that yon 
 will employ the rest of that time which is appointed 
 you on earth in promoting the cause of righteousness, 
 in combating the artifices of Satan, resisting the 
 ways of ungodliness, conversing with God in fervent 
 prayer and holy meditation, contemplating his re- 
 deeming love, and hungering after higher and higher 
 degrees of virtue. May the prospect of a heavenly 
 inheritance keep you alive to holiness and gratitude, 
 and in looking upon the world around, remember 
 that the true spirit of the gospel teaches us to love 
 the sinner, while we hate the sin. 
 
 Grace, mercy, and peace be multiplied upon you 
 from God and the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 
 Believe me to be yours with Christian regard, 
 
 L. Richmond. 
 
 From the kind, condescending, and Christian bear- 
 ing of these letters, and the spirit which pervades 
 the "authentic narrative," it is obvious that "the 
 dairyman's daughter" must have derived no small 
 benefit from the personal and epistolary correspond- 
 ence which for several years was kept up between 
 Mr. Richmond and herself. But no unprejudiced 
 person can read the foregoing letters, together with 
 those furnished in the "narrative," without seeing 
 that the advantages of the correspondence were 
 largely on the other side. To what extent the suc- 
 cess of Mr. Richmond's ministerial labours is attribut- 
 able to the influence exerted upon him by " the 
 dairyman's daughter," eternity alone can show.
 
 50 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 She evidently imbued his mind with a measure of 
 her own fervour; and it is not improbable that some 
 of his plans of usefulness were suggested by those 
 which obtained among the people with whom she 
 was connected. Thus, in one of his parishes he 
 organized a society which, in its main features, re- 
 sembled a class-meeting. It met weekly, under regu- 
 lations of his own framing — adirect(y)'\>eva.g appointed, 
 whose duties were similar to those of tTie class-leader. 
 This society, which was formed in 1801, the year in 
 which "the dairyman's daughter" died, was doubtless 
 productive of great good. Mr. Richmond's ministry 
 extended for more than a quarter of a century after 
 that period. During all that time he was abundant 
 in labours, and successfully engaged in his Master's 
 Avork, until he finished his course with joy, and re- 
 joined "the dairyman's daughter" in "the palace 
 of angels and God." There they will be greeted with 
 gratitude and rapture, by thousands to whom they 
 yet speak in this "authentic narrative." May its 
 republication, in the present form, add to their num- 
 ber and abundantly promote the Redeemer's cause.
 
 THE 
 
 DAIRYMAN^ S DAUGHTER. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 It is a delightful employment to discover and 
 trace the operations of divine gi-ace, as they are 
 manifested in the dispositions and lives of God's 
 real children. It is peculiarly gratifying to observe 
 how frequently, among the poorer classes of man- 
 kind, the sunshine of mercy beams upon the heart, 
 and bears witness to the image of Christ which 
 the Spirit of God has impressed thereupon. 
 Among such the sincerity and simplicity of the 
 Christian character appear unencumbered by those 
 obstacles to spirituality of mind and conversation, 
 which too often prove a great hinderance to those 
 who live in the higher ranks. Many are the diffi- 
 culties which riches, worldly consequence, high 
 connections, and the luxurious refinements of 
 polished society, throw in the way of religious 
 
 51
 
 52 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 profession. Happy indeed it is (and some such 
 happy instances I know) where grace has so 
 strikingly supported its conflict with natural pride, 
 self-importance, the allurements of luxury, ease, 
 and worldly opinion, that the noble and mighty 
 appear adorned with genuine poverty of spirit, self- 
 denial, humble-mindedness, and deep spirituality 
 of heart. 
 
 But, in general, if we want to see religion in 
 its most simple and pure character, we must look 
 for it among the poor of this world, who are rich 
 in faith. How often is the poor man's cottage the 
 palace of God ! Many can truly declare, that they 
 have there learned the most valuable lessons of 
 faith and hope, and there witnessed the most 
 striking demonstrations of the wisdom, power, and 
 goodness of God. 
 
 The character which the present narrative is 
 designed to introduce to the notice of my readers. 
 is given from real life and circumstances : I first 
 became acquainted with her by receiving the fol- 
 lowing letter, which I transcribe from the original 
 now before me : — 
 
 "Rev. Sir, — I take the liberty to write to you. 
 Pray excuse me, for I have never spoken to you. 
 
 But I once heard you, when you preached at 
 
 church. I believe you are a faithful preacher to
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 53 
 
 warn sinners to flee from the wrath that will bo 
 revealed against all those that live in sin and die 
 impenitent. Pray go on in the strength of the 
 Lord. And may he bless you, and crown your 
 labour of love with success, and give you souls for 
 your hire. 
 
 " The Lord has promised to be with those whom 
 he calls and sends forth to preach his word to the 
 end of time : for without him we can do nothing. 
 I was much rejoiced to hear of those marks of love 
 and affection to that poor soldier of the S. D. 
 militia. Surely the love of Christ sent you to that 
 poor man : may that love ever dwell richly in you 
 by faith ! may it constrain you to seek the wander- 
 ing souls of men with the fervent desire to spend 
 and be spent for his glory ! May the unction of 
 the Holy Spirit attend the word spoken by you 
 with power, and convey deep conviction to the 
 hearts of your hearers ! May many of them expe- 
 rience the divine change of being made new 
 creatures in Christ ! 
 
 " Sir, be fervent in prayer with God for the con- 
 viction and conversion of sinners. His power is 
 great, and who can withstand it ? He has promised 
 to answer the prayer of faith, that is put up in 
 his Son's name. ' Ask what ye will, it shall be 
 granted you.' How this should strengthen our 
 faith when we are taught by the word and Spirit 
 
 5«
 
 54 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 how to pray ! that sweet insiDiring hope ! how 
 it lifts up the fainting spirits, when we look over 
 the precious promises of God ! What a mercy if 
 we know Christ and the power of his resurrection 
 in our own hearts ! Through faith in Christ we 
 rejoice in hope, and look up in expectation of that 
 time drawing near, when all shall know and fear 
 the Lord, and when a nation shall be born in a day. 
 
 " What a happy time when Christ's kingdom 
 shall come ! then shall ' his will be done on earth 
 as it is in heaven.' Men shall be daily fed with 
 the manna of his love, and delight themselves in 
 the Lord all the day long. Then what a paradise 
 below will they enjoy! How it animates and en- 
 livens my soul with vigour to pursue the ways of 
 God, that I may even now bear some humble part 
 in giving glory to God and the Lamb ! 
 
 " Sir, I began to write this on Sunday, being 
 detained from attending on public worship. My 
 dear and only sister, living as a servant with Mrs. 
 
 , was so ill, that I came here to attend in her 
 
 place and on her. But now she is no more. 
 
 " I was going to entreat you to write to her in 
 answer to this ; she being convinced of the evil of 
 her past life, and that she had not walked in the 
 ways of God, nor sought to please him. But she 
 earnestly desired to do so. This makes me have a 
 comfortable hope that she is gone to glory, and
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 55 
 
 that she is now joining in sweet concert with the 
 angelic host in heaven to sing the wonders of re- 
 deeming love. I hope I may now write, ' Blessed 
 are the dead that die in the Lord.' 
 
 "She expressed a desire to receive the Lord's 
 supper, and commemorate his precious death and 
 sufferings. I told her, as well as I was able, what 
 it was to receive Christ into her heart ; but as her 
 weakness of body increased, she did not mention 
 it again. She seemed quite resigned before she 
 died. I do hope she is gone from a world of death 
 and sin to be with God for ever. 
 
 " Sir, I hope you will not be offended with me, 
 a poor ignorant person, to take such a liberty as 
 to write to you. But I trust, as you are called to 
 instruct sinners in the ways of God, you will bear 
 with me, and be so kind as to answer this ill-wrote 
 letter, and give me some instructions. It is my 
 heart's desire to have the mind that was in Christ, 
 that when I awake up in his likeness, then I may 
 be satisfied. 
 
 "My sister expressed a wish that you might 
 bury her. The minister of our parish, whither 
 she will be carried, cannot come. She will lie at 
 
 . She died on Tuesday morning, and will be 
 
 buried on Friday or Saturday (whichever is most 
 convenient to you) at three o'clock in the after- 
 noon. Please to send an answer by the bearer, to
 
 56 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 let me know whether you can comply with this 
 request. 
 
 ''From your unworthy servant, 
 
 <' Elizabeth WALLBRrDOE." 
 
 I wa^ much struck with the simple and earnest 
 strain of devotion which this letter breathed. It 
 was but indifferently written and spelled. But this 
 the rather tended to endear the hitherto unknown 
 writer, as it seemed characteristic of the union of 
 humbleness of station with eminence of piety. I 
 felt quite thankful that I was favoured with a 
 correspondent of this description ; the more so, as 
 such characters were at that time very rare in the 
 neighbourhood. I have often wished that episto- 
 lary intercourse of this kind were more encouraged 
 and practised among us. I have the greatest rea- 
 son to speak well of its effects both on myself and 
 others. Communication by letter as well as by 
 conversation with the pious poor has often been 
 the instrument of animating and reviving my own 
 heart in the midst of duty, and of giving me the 
 most profitable information for the general con- 
 duct of the ministerial office. 
 
 As soon as the letter was read, I inquired who 
 was the bearer of it. 
 
 " He is waiting at the outside of the gate, sir;" 
 was the reply.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 57 
 
 I went out to speak to hiin, and saw a vene- 
 rable old man, whose long hoary hair and deeply 
 wrinkled countenance commanded more than com- 
 mon respect. He was resting his arm upon the 
 gate, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. 
 On my approach, he made a low bow, and said, 
 
 "Sir, I have brought you a letter from my 
 daughter ; but I fear you will think us very bold 
 in asking you to take so much trouble." 
 
 " By no means," I replied ; " I shall be truly 
 glad to oblige you and any of your family in this 
 matter, provided it be quite agreeable to the min- 
 ister of your parish." ^ 
 
 " Sir, he told me yesterday, that he should be 
 very glad if I could procure some gentleman to 
 come and bury my poor child for him, as he lives 
 five miles off, and has particular business on that 
 day : so when I told my daughter, she asked me 
 to come to you, sir, and bring that letter, which 
 would explain the matter." 
 
 I desired him to come into the house, and then 
 said, 
 
 " What is your occupation ?" 
 
 *• Sir, I have lived most of my days in a little 
 cottage at Arreton, six miles from here. I have 
 rented a few acres of gi'ound, and kept some cows, 
 which, in addition to my day labour, has been the 
 means of supporting and bringing up my family."
 
 58 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 "What family have you?" 
 
 " A wife, now getting very aged and helpless, 
 two sons, and one daughter; for my other poor 
 dear child has just departed out of this wicked 
 world." 
 
 " I hope for a better." 
 
 " I hope so too : poor thing, Rie did not use to 
 take to such good ways as her sister ; but I do be- 
 lieve that her sister's manner of talking with her 
 before she died was the means of savina; her soul. 
 What a mercy it is to have such a child as mine 
 is ! I never thought about my own soul seriously 
 till she, poor girl, begged and prayed me to flee 
 from the wrath to come." 
 
 " How old are you ?" 
 
 "Near seventy, and my wife is older; we are 
 getting old and almost past our labour, but our 
 daughter has left a good place, where she lived in 
 service, on purpose to come home and take care of 
 us and our little dairy. And a dear, dutiful, affec- 
 tionate girl she is." 
 
 " Was she always so ?" 
 
 " No, sir, when she was very young, she was all 
 for the world, and pleasure, and dress, and com- 
 pany. Indeed, we were all very ignorant, and 
 thought if we took care of this life, and wronged 
 nobody, we should be sure to go to heaven at last. 
 My daughters were both wilful, and, like ourselves.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 59 
 
 strangers to the ways of God and the word of his 
 grace. But the eldest of them went out to service, 
 and some years ago she heard a sermon preached 
 
 at church, by a gentleman that was going to 
 
 , as chaplain to the colony, and from that 
 
 time she seemed quite another creature. She 
 began to read the Bible, and became sober and 
 steady. The first time she returned home after- 
 ward to see us, she brought us a guinea which she 
 had saved from her wages, and said, as we were 
 getting old, she was sure we should want help ; 
 adding that she did not wish to spend it in fine 
 clothes, as she used to do, only to feed pride and 
 vanity. She said, she would rather show gratitude 
 to her dear father and mother, because Christ haxl 
 shown such mercy to her. 
 
 " We wondered to hear her talk, and took great 
 delight in her company ; for her temper and be- 
 haviour were so humble and kind, she seemed so 
 desirous to do us good both in soul and body, and 
 was so difierent from what we had ever seen her be- 
 fore, that careless and ignorant as we had been, we 
 began to think there must be something real in 
 religion, or it never could alter a person so much 
 in a little time. 
 
 " Her youngest sister, poor soul ! used to laugh 
 and ridicule her at that time, and said her head 
 was turned with her new ways.
 
 fiO THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 "'No, sister/ she would say, 'not my head, but 
 I hope my heart is turned from the love of sin to 
 the loye of God. I wish you may one day see, as 
 I do, the danger and vanity of your present con- 
 dition.' 
 
 "Her poor sister would reply, 'I do not want 
 to hear any of your preaching ; I am no worse than 
 other people, and that is enough for mo.' — ' Well, 
 sister,' Elizabeth would say, ' if you will not hear 
 me, you cannot hinder me from praying for you, 
 which I do with all my heart.' 
 
 "And now, sir, I believe those prayers are 
 answered. For when her sister was taken ill, 
 
 Elizabeth went to JMrs. 's to wait in her place, 
 
 and take care of her. She said a great deal to her 
 about her soul, and the poor girl began to be so 
 deeply affected, and sensible of her past sin, and 
 so thankful for her sister's kind behaviour, that it 
 gave her great hopes indeed for her sake. When 
 my wife and I went to see her as she lay sick, she 
 told us how grieved and ashamed she was o^ her 
 past life ; but said she had a hope through grace 
 that her dear sister's Saviour would be her Saviour 
 too ; for she saw her own sinfulness, felt her own 
 helplessness, and only wished to cast herself upon 
 ( ■hrist as her hope and salvation. 
 
 " And now, sir, she is gone, and I hope and 
 think her sister's prayers for her conversion to
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 61 
 
 (xod have been answered. The Lord grant tho 
 same for her poor father and mother's sake like- 
 wise !" 
 
 This conversation was a very pleasing commen- 
 tary upon the letter which I had received, and 
 made me anxious both to comply with the request, 
 and to become acquainted with the writer. I pro- 
 mised the good dairyman to attend on the Friday 
 at the appointed hour ; and after some more con- 
 versation respecting his own state of mind under 
 the present trial, he went away. 
 
 He was a reverend old man; his furrowed cheeks, 
 white locks, weeping eyes, bent shoulders, and 
 feeble gait, were characteristic of the aged pilgrim. 
 As he slowly walked onward, supported by a stick 
 which seemed to have been the companion of many 
 a long year, a train of reflections occurred, which 
 I retrace with pleasure and emotion. 
 
 At the appointed hour I arrived at the church ; 
 and after a little while was summoned to the 
 churchyard gate to meet the funeral procession. 
 The aged parents, the elder brother, and the sister, 
 with other relatives, formed an affecting group. I 
 was struck with the humble, pious, and pleasing 
 cjjuntenance of the young woman from whom I 
 had received the letter. It bore the marks of 
 ^reat seriousness without affectation, and of much 
 serenity mingled with a glow of devotion. 
 
 6
 
 62 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 A circumstance occurred during tlic reading of 
 the burial service which I think it right to men- 
 tion, as one among many testimonies of the solemn 
 and impressiye tendency of our truly evangelical 
 Liturgy. 
 
 A man of the village, who had hitherto been 
 of a very careless and even profligate character, 
 went into the church through mere curiosity, and 
 with no better purpose than that of vacantly gaz- 
 ing at the ceremony. He came likewise to the 
 grave, and during the reading of those prayers 
 which are appointed for that part of the service, 
 his mind received a deep serious conviction of his 
 sin and spiritual danger. It was an impression 
 that never wore off, but gradually ripened into the 
 most satisfactory evidence of an entire change, of 
 which I had many and long-continued proofs. He 
 always referred to the burial service, and to some 
 particular sentences of it, as the clearly ascertained 
 instrument of bringing him, through grace, to the 
 knowledge of the truth. 
 
 The day was therefore one to be remembered. 
 Kemembered let it be by those who love to hear 
 "the short and simple annals of the poor." 
 
 Was there not a manifest and happy connection 
 between the circumstances that providentially 
 brought the serious and the careless to the same 
 grave on that day together ? How much do they
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 63 
 
 lose who neglect to trace the leadings of God in 
 providence, as links in the chain of his eternal 
 purpose of redemption and grace ! 
 
 "While infidels may scoflf let us adore !" 
 
 After the service was concluded, I had a short 
 conversation with the good old couple and their 
 daughter. She tola me that she intended to remain 
 a week or two at the gentleman's house where her 
 sister died, till another servant should arrive and 
 take her sister's place. 
 
 " I shall be truly obliged," said she, " by an 
 opportunity of conversing with you, either there, 
 or at my father's, when I return home, which will 
 be in the course of a fortnight at the furthest. I 
 shall be glad to talk to you about my sister, whom 
 you have just bui'ied." 
 
 Her aspect and address were highly interesting. 
 I promised to see her very soon ; and then returned 
 home, quietly reflecting on the circumstances of 
 the funeral at which I had been engaged. I blessed 
 the God of the poor, and prayed that the poor 
 might become rich in faith, and the rich be made 
 poor in spirit.
 
 64 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 PART n. 
 
 A SWEET solemnity often possesses the mind, 
 while retracing past intercourse with departed 
 friends. How much is this increased, when they 
 were such as lived and died in the Lord ! The 
 remembrance of former scenes and conversations 
 with those, who, we believe, are now enjoying the 
 uninterrupted happiness of a better world, fills the 
 heart with pleasing sadness, and animates the soul 
 with the hopeful anticipation of a day when the 
 glory of the Lord shall be revealed in the assem- 
 bling of all his children together, never more to 
 be separated. Whether they were rich or poor, 
 while on earth, is a matter of trifling consequence : 
 the valuable part of their character is that they 
 are kings and priests unto God, and this is their 
 true nobility. In the number of now departed 
 believers with whom I once loved to converse on 
 the grace and glory of the kingdom of God, was 
 the dairyman's daughter. 
 
 About a week after the funeral, I went to visit 
 
 the family at , in whose service the youngest 
 
 sister had lived and died, and where Elizabeth was 
 requested to remain for a short time in her stead. 
 
 The house was a large and venerable mansion. 
 It stood in a beautiful valley at the foot of a high
 
 THE DAIEYJIAN'S DAUGHTER. 65 
 
 hill. It was embowered in fine woods, which were 
 interspersed in every direction with rising, falling 
 and swelling grounds. The manor-house had 
 evidently descended through a long line of ances- 
 try, from a distant period of time. The Gothic 
 character of its original architecture was still pre- 
 served in the latticed windows, adorned with carved 
 divisions and pillars of stone work. Several 
 pointed terminations also, in the construction of 
 the roof, according to the custom of our forefathers, 
 fully corresponded with the general features of the 
 building. , > • ■' 
 
 One end of the house was entirely clothed with 
 the thick foliage of an immense ivy, which climbed 
 beyond customary limits, and embraced a lofty 
 chimney up to its very summit. Such a tree 
 seemed congenial to the walls that supported it, 
 and conspired with the antique fashion of the place 
 to carry imagination back to the days of our an- 
 cestors. 
 
 As I approached, I was led to reflect on the 
 lapse of ages, and the successive generations of 
 men, each in their turn occupying lands, houses, 
 and domains ; each in their turn also disappear- 
 ing, and leaving their inheritance to be enjoyed 
 by others. David once observed the same, and 
 cried out, " Behold thou hast made my days as a 
 
 6*
 
 66 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 hand-breadth, and mine age is as nothing before 
 thee : verily every man at his best estate is alto- 
 gether vanity. Surely every man walketh in a 
 vain show : surely they are disquieted in vain : he 
 heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall 
 gather them." 
 
 Happy would it be for the rich, if they more 
 frequently meditated on the uncertainty of all 
 their possessions, and the frail nature of every 
 earthly tenure. ''Their inward thought is, that 
 their houses shall continue for ever, and their 
 dwelling-places to all generations; they call their 
 lands after their own names. Nevertheless, man 
 being in honour abideth not : he is like the beasts 
 that perish. This their way is their folly : yet 
 their posterity approve their sayings. Like sheep 
 they are laid in the gi-ave ; death shall feed on them ; 
 and their beauty shall consume in the grave from 
 their dwelling." 
 
 As I advanced to the mansion, a pleasing kind 
 of gloom overspread the front : it was occasioned 
 by the shade of trees, and gave a characteristic 
 effect to the ancient fabric. I instantly recollected 
 that death had very lately visited the house, and 
 that one of its present inhabitants was an affection- 
 ate mourner for a departed sister. 
 
 There is a solemnity in the thought of a recent
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 67 
 
 death, which will associate itself with the very 
 walls from whence we are conscious that a soul 
 has just taken its flight to eternity. 
 
 After passing some time in conyersation with 
 the superiors of the family, in the course of which 
 I was much gratified by hearing of the unremitted 
 attention which the elder sister had paid to the 
 younger, during the illness of the latter ; I received 
 likewise other testimonies of the excellence of her 
 general character and conduct in the house : I then 
 took leave, requesting permission to see her, agree- 
 ably to the promise I had made at the funeral not 
 many days before. 
 
 I was shown into a parlour, where I found her 
 alone. She was in deep mourning. She had a 
 calmness and serenity in her countenance, which 
 exceedingly struck me, and impressed some idea 
 of those attainments which a further acquaintance 
 with her afterward so much increased. 
 
 She spoke of her sister. I had the satisfaction 
 of finding that she had given very hopeful proofs 
 of a change of heart before she died. The prayers 
 and earnest exhortations of Elizabeth had been 
 blessed to a happy efi"ect. She described what had 
 passed with such a mixture of sisterly afiection, and 
 pious dependence on the mercy of God to sinners, 
 as convinced me that her own heart was under the 
 influence of "pure and undefiled religion."
 
 68 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 She requested leave occasionally to correspond 
 with me on serious subjects, stating that she need- 
 ed much instruction. She hoped I would pardon 
 the liberty which she had taken by introducing 
 herself to my notice. She expressed a trust that 
 the Lord would overrule both the death of her sis- 
 ter, and the personal acquaintance with me that 
 resulted from it, to a present and future good, as 
 it respected herself and also her parents, with 
 whom she statedly lived, and to whom she expect- 
 ed to return in a few days. 
 
 Finding that she was wanted in some household 
 duty, I did not remain long with her ; but left her 
 with an assurance that I proposed to visit her 
 parents very shortly. 
 
 "Sir," said she, "I take it very kind that you 
 have condescended to leave the company of the 
 ricfi and converse with the poor. I wish I could 
 have said more to you respecting my own state of 
 mind. Perhaps I shall be better able another time. 
 When you next visit me, instead of finding me in 
 these noble walls, you will see me in a poor cottage. 
 But I am happiest when there. Once more, sir, I 
 thank you for your past kindness to me and mine, 
 and may God in many ways bless you for it I" 
 
 I quitted the house with no small degree of sat- 
 isfaction, in consequence of the new acquaintance 
 which I had formed. I discovered traces of a cul-
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 69 
 
 tivated, as well as a spiritual mind. I felt that 
 religious intercourse with those of low estate may 
 be rendered eminently useful to others, whose out- 
 ward station and advantages are far above their 
 own. 
 
 How often does it appear that "God hath chosen 
 the weak things of the world to confound the 
 things which are mighty : and base things of the 
 world, and things which are despised, hath God 
 chosen, and things which are not, to bring to naught 
 things that are ; that no flesh should glory in his 
 presence." 
 
 It was not unfrequcntly my custom when my 
 mind was filled with any interesting subject for 
 meditation, to seek some spot where the beauties 
 of natural prospect might help to form pleasing 
 and useful associations. I therefore ascended gra- 
 dually to the very summit of the hill adjoining the 
 mansion where my visit had just been made. 
 Here was placed an elevated sea-mark : it was in 
 the form of a triangular pyramid, and built of 
 stone. I sat down on the ground near it, and 
 looked at the surrounding prospect, which was dis- 
 tinguished for beauty and magnificence. It was a 
 lofty station, which commanded a complete circle 
 of interesting objects to engage the spectator's 
 attention. 
 
 Southward the view was terminated by a long
 
 70 THE DAIRYMAN S DAUGHTER. 
 
 range of hills at about six miles distance. They 
 met, to the westward, another chain of hills, of 
 which the one whereon I sat formed a link, and 
 the whole together nearly encompassed a rich 
 and fruitful valley, filled with cornfields and pas- 
 tures. Through this vale flowed a small river for 
 many miles : much cattle were feeding on its banks. 
 Here and there lesser eminences rose in the val- 
 ley ; some covered with wood, others with corn or 
 grass, and a few with heath or fern. One of these 
 little hills was distinguished by a parish church at 
 the top, presenting a striking feature in the land- 
 scape. Another of these elevations, situated in 
 the centre of the valley, was adorned with a vene- 
 rable holly tree, which has grown there for ages. 
 Its singular height and wide-spreading dimensions 
 not only render it an object of curiosity to the 
 traveller, but of daily usefulness to the pilot, as a 
 mark visible from the sea, whereby to direct his 
 vessel safe into harbour. Villages, churches, 
 country-seats, farm-houses, and cottages, were 
 scattered over every part of the southern valley. 
 In this direction also, at the foot of the hill where 
 I was stationed, appeared the ancient mansion 
 which I had just quitted, embellished with its 
 woods, groves, and gardens. 
 
 South-eastward, I saw the open ocean, bounded 
 only by the horizon. The sun shone, and gilded
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 71 
 
 the waves with a glittering light that sparkled in 
 the most brilliant manner. More to the east, in 
 continuation of that line of hills where I was placed, 
 rose two downs, one beyond the other ; both co- 
 vered with sheep, and the sea just visible over the 
 furthest of them, as a terminating boundary. In 
 this point ships were seen, some sailing, others at 
 anchor. Here the little river, which watered the 
 southern valley, finished its course, and ran through 
 meadows into the sea, in an eastward direction. 
 
 On the north, the sea appeared like a noble river, 
 varying from three to seven miles in breadth, be- 
 tween the banks of the opposite coast and those of 
 the island which I inhabited. Immediately under- 
 neath me was a fine woody district of country, di- 
 versified by many pleasing objects. Distant towns 
 were visible on the opposite shore. Numbers of 
 ships occupied the sheltered station which this 
 northern channel afforded them. The eye roamed 
 with delight over an expanse of near and remote 
 beauties, which alternately caught the observation, 
 and which harmonized together, and produced a 
 scene of peculiar interest. 
 
 Westward the hills followed each other, forming 
 several intermediate and partial valleys, in a kind 
 of undulations, like the waves of the sea; and 
 bending to the south, completed the boundary of 
 the larger valley before described, to the southward
 
 72 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 of the hill on which I sat. In many instances tho 
 hills were cultivated with corn to their very sum- 
 mits, and seemed to defy the inclemency of the 
 weather ; which, at these heights, usually renders 
 the ground incapable of bringing forth and ripen- 
 ing the crops of grain. One hill alone, the highest 
 iu elevation, and about ten miles to the south-west- 
 ward, was enveloped in a cloud, which just per- 
 mitted a dim and hazy sight of a signal post, a 
 light-house, and an ancient chantry, built on its 
 summit. 
 
 Amidst these numerous specimens of delightful 
 scenery I found a mount for contemplation, and 
 here I indulged in it. 
 
 " How much of the natural beauties of Paradise 
 still remain in the world, although its spiritual 
 character has been so awfully defaced by sin! 
 l^ut when divine grace renews the heart of the 
 fallen sinner. Paradise is regained, and much of 
 its beauty restored to the soul. As this prospect 
 is compounded of hill and dale, land and sea, woods 
 and plains, all sweetly blended together and re- 
 lieving each other in the landscape; so do the 
 gracious dispositions wrought in the soul produce 
 a beauty and harmony of scene to which it was be- 
 fore a stranger." 
 
 I looked toward the village in the plain below, 
 where the dairyman's younger daughter was buried.
 
 THE DAIRYMAN S DAUGHTER. To 
 
 I retraced the simple solemuities of the funeral. I 
 counected the principles and conduct of her sister 
 with the present probably happy state of her soul 
 in the world of spirits, and was greatly impressed 
 with a sense of the importance of family influence 
 as a means of grace. " That young woman," I 
 thought, "has been the conductor of not only a 
 sister, but perhaps a father and mother also, to the 
 true knowledge of Grod, and may, by divine bless- 
 ing, become so to others. It is a glorious occu- 
 pation to win souls to Christ, and guide them out 
 of Egyptian bondage through the wilderness into 
 the promised Canaan. Happy are the families who 
 are walking hand in hand together, as pilgrim.s 
 toward the heavenly country. May the number 
 of such be daily increased I" 
 
 Casting my eye over the numerous dwellings in 
 the vales on my right and left, I could not help 
 thinking, "How many of their inhabitants are igno- 
 rant of the ways of God, and strangers to his grace ! 
 May this thought stimulate to activity and diligence 
 in the cause of immortal souls ! They are precious 
 in God's sight — they ought to be so in ours." 
 
 Some pointed and' affecting observations to that 
 effect recurred to my mind, as having been made 
 by the young person with whom I had been just 
 conversing. Her mind appeared to be much im- 
 pressed with the duty of speaking and acting for 
 
 7
 
 74 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 God "while it is day;" coBScious that "the night 
 cometh when no man can work." Her laudable 
 anxiety on this head was often testified to me after- 
 ward, both by letter and conversation. What she 
 felt herself in respect to endeavours to do good, 
 she happily communicated to others with whom 
 she corresponded or conversed. 
 
 Time would not permit my continuing so long 
 in the enjoyment of these meditations on this 
 lovely mount of observation, as my heart desired. 
 On my return home I wrote a few lines to the 
 dairyman's daughter, chiefly dictated by the train 
 of thought which had occupied my mind while I 
 sat on the hill. 
 
 On the next Sunday evening I received her 
 reply, of which the following is a transcript : — 
 
 ' ' Sunday, . 
 
 " Rev. Sir, — I am this day deprived of an op- 
 portunity of attending the house of Grod, to worship 
 him. But, glory be to his name ! he is not con- 
 fined to time nor place. I feel him present with 
 me where I am, and ' his presence makes my Par- 
 adise ; for where he is, is heaven.' I pray God that 
 a double portion of his grace and Holy Spirit may 
 rest upon you this day; that his blessing may attend 
 all your faithful labours ; and that you may find 
 the truth of his word, assuring us, that wherever
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 75 
 
 we assemble together in his name, there he is in 
 the midst to bless every waiting soul. 
 
 " How precious are all his promises ! We 
 ought never to doubt the truth of his word. For 
 he will never deceive us if we go on in faith, 
 always expecting to receive what his goodness 
 waits to give. Dear sir, I have felt it very con- 
 soling to read your kind letter to-day. I feel 
 thaukful to God for ministers in our church who 
 love and fear his name : there it is where the peo- 
 ple in general look for salvation ; and there may 
 they ever find it for Jesus' sake ! May his word, 
 spoken by you, his chosen vessel of grace, be made 
 spirit and life to their dead souls ! May it come 
 from you as an instrument in the hands of God, 
 as sharp arrows from a strong archer, and strike 
 a death-blow to all their sins ! How I lonji to see 
 the arrows of conviction fasten on the minds of 
 those that are hearers of the word and not doers I 
 sir, be ambitious for the glory of God and the 
 salvation of souls I It will add to the lustre of 
 your crown in glory, as well as to your present 
 joy and peace. We should be willing to spend 
 and be spent in his service, saying, 'Lord, may 
 thy will be done by me on earth, even as it is by 
 thy angels in heaven.' So you may expect to see 
 his face with joy, and say, 'Here am I, Lord, and 
 all the souls thou hast given me.'
 
 76 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 " It seems wonderful that we sliould neglect any 
 opportunity of doing good, when there is, if it be 
 done from love to God and his creatures, a present 
 reward of grace, in reflecting that we are using the 
 talents committed to our care according to the 
 power and ability which we receive from him. 
 God requires not what he has not promised to give. 
 But when we look back, and reflect that there have 
 been opportunities in which we have neglected to 
 take up our cross and speak and act for God ; what 
 a dejection of mind we feel ! We are then justly 
 tilled with shame. Conscious of being ashamed of 
 Christ, we cannot come with that holy boldness 
 to a throne of grace, nor feel that free access when 
 we make our supplications. 
 
 "We are commanded to provoke one another 
 to love and good works; and where two are agreed 
 together in the things of God, they may say, 
 
 ' And if our fellowship below 
 
 In Jesus be so sweet, 
 What heights of rapture shall we know, 
 
 When round the throne we meet!' 
 
 " Sir, I hope Mrs. Richmond and you are both 
 of one heart and mind. Then you will sweetly 
 agree in all things that make for your present and 
 eternal happiness. Christ sent his disciples out, 
 liot singly, but two and two ; that they might com-
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 77 
 
 fort and help each other in those ways and works 
 which their Lord commanded them to pursue. 
 
 ^' It has been my lot to have been alone the 
 greatest part of the time that I have known the 
 ways of God. I therefore find it such a treat to 
 my soul when I can meet with any who love to 
 talk of the goodness and love of God, and all his 
 gracious dealings. What a comfortable reflection, 
 to think of spending a whole eternity in that de- 
 lightful employment; to tell to listening angels 
 his love, ' immense, unsearchable !' 
 
 "Dear sir, I thank you for your kindness and 
 condescension in leaving those that are of high 
 rank and birth in the world, to converse with me, 
 who am but a servant here below. But when I 
 consider what a high calling, what honour and dig- 
 nity God has conferred upon me, to be called his 
 child, to be born of his Spirit, made an heir of 
 glory, and joint heir with Christ; how humble and 
 circumspect should I be in all my ways, as a duti- 
 ful and loving child to an affectionate and loving 
 Father ! When I seriously consider these things, 
 it fills me with love and gratitude to God, and I do 
 not wish for any higher station, nor envy the rich. 
 I rather pity them if they are not good as well as 
 great. My blessed Lord was pleased to appear 
 in the form of a servant; and I long to be like 
 him.
 
 78 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 " I did not feel in so happy a frame for conver- 
 sation that day, nor yet that liberty to explain my 
 thoughts, which I sometimes do. The fault must 
 have been all in myself; for there was nothing in 
 you but what seemed to evidence a Christian spirit, 
 temper, and disposition. I very much wished for 
 an opportunity to converse with you. I feel very 
 thankful to God that you do take up the cross and 
 despise the shame : if you are found faithful, you 
 will soon sit down with him in glory. 
 
 " I have written to the Rev. Mr. , to thank 
 
 him for permitting you to perform the burial ser- 
 vice at Arreton, over my dear departed sister, and 
 to tell him of the kind way in which you consent- 
 ed to do it. I should mention that your manner 
 of reading the service on that day had a consider- 
 able effect on the hearers. 
 
 "Pray excuse all faults, and correct my errors. 
 I expect in a few days to return home to my pa- 
 rents' house. We shall rejoice to see you there. 
 
 "From your humble servant in Christ, 
 
 " Elizabeth Wallbridqe." 
 
 It was impossible to view such a correspondent 
 with indifference. I had just returned from a lit- 
 tle cottage assembly, where, on Sunday evenings, 
 I sometimes went to instruct a few poor families 
 in one of the hamlets belonging to my parish. I
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 79 
 
 read the letter and closed the day with thanksgiv- 
 ing to God for thus enabling those who fear hia 
 name to build up each other in faith and love. 
 
 Of old time, " they that feared the Lord spake 
 often one to another ; and the Lord hearkened and 
 lieard it, and a book of remembrance was written 
 before him, for them that feared the Lord and 
 that thought upon his name." 
 
 That book of remembrance is not yet closed. 
 
 PART in. 
 
 The mind of man is like a moving picture, sup- 
 plied with objects, not only from contemplation on 
 things present, but from the fruitful sources of 
 recollection and anticipation. 
 
 Memory retraces past events, and restores an 
 ideal reality to scenes which are gone by for ever. 
 They live again in revived imagery, and we seem 
 to hear and see with renewed emotions what we 
 heard and saw at a former period. Successions of 
 such recollected circumstances often form a series 
 of welcome memorials. In religious meditation 
 the memory becomes a sanctified instrument of 
 spiritual improvement.
 
 80 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 Another part of this animated picture is fur- 
 nished by the pencil of hope. She draws encour- 
 aging prospects for the soul by connecting the 
 past and present with the future. Seeing the 
 promises afar off, she is persuaded of their truth, 
 and embraces them as her own. 
 
 The Spirit of God gives a blessing to both these 
 acts of the mind, and employs them in the service 
 of religion. Every faculty of body and soul, when 
 considered as a part of '■'■ the purchased possession" 
 of the Saviour, assumes a new character. How 
 powerfully does the apostle, on this ground, urge 
 a plea for holy activity and watchfulness: "What! 
 know ye not that your body is the temple of the 
 Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of 
 God ; and ye are not your own ; for ye are bought 
 with a price : therefore glorify God in your body 
 and in your spirit, which are God's." 
 
 The Christian may derive much profit and en- 
 joyment from the use of the memory as it concerns 
 those transactions in which he once bore a part. 
 In his endeavours to recall past conversations and 
 intercourse with deceased friends in particular, the 
 powers of remembrance greatly improve by exer- 
 cise. One revived idea produces another, till the 
 mind is most agreeably and usefully occupied with 
 lively and holy imaginations.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 81 
 
 "Lull'd in the countless chambers of the brain, 
 Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain, 
 Awake but one, and lo, what myriads rise ! 
 Each stamps its image as the other flies ; 
 Each as the varied avenues of sense 
 Delight or sorrow to the soul dispense. 
 Brightens or fades ; yet all with sacred art 
 Control the latent fibres of the heart." 
 
 May it please God to bless both to the reader and 
 the writer this feeble attempt to recollect some of 
 the communications which I once enjoyed in my 
 visits to the dairyman's dwelling ! 
 
 Very soon after the receipt of the last letter, I 
 rode for the first time to see the family at their 
 own home. The principal part of the road lay 
 through retired, narrow lanes, beautifully over- 
 arched with groves of nut and other trees, which 
 screened the traveller from the rays of the sun, 
 and afforded many interesting objects for admira- 
 tion, in the flowers, shrubs, and young trees, which 
 grew upon the high banks on each side of the 
 road. Many grotesque rocks, with little trickling 
 streams of water occasionally breaking out of them, 
 varied the recluse scenery, and produced a romantic 
 and pleasing effect. 
 
 Here and there the more distant prospect beyond 
 was observable through gaps and hollow places on 
 the road-side. Lofty hills, with navy signal-posts,
 
 82 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 obelisks, and liglit-liouses on their summits, ap- 
 peared at these intervals : rich corn-fields were 
 also visible through some of the open places; and 
 now and then, when the road ascended a hill, the 
 sea, with ships at various distances, was seen. 
 But for the most part shady seclusion, and objects 
 of a more minute and confined nature, gave a cha- 
 racter to the journey, and invited contemplation. 
 
 How much do they lose who are strangers to 
 serious meditation on the wonders and beauties of 
 nature ! How gloriously the God of creation shines 
 in his works ! Not a tree, or leaf, or flower ; not 
 a bird or insect, but proclaims in glowing language, 
 "God made me." 
 
 As I approached the village where the good old 
 dairyman dwelt, I observed him in a little field, 
 driving his cows before him toward a yard and 
 hovel which adjoined his cottage. I advanced 
 very near to him without his observing me, for 
 his sight was dim. On my calling out to him, he 
 started at the sound of my voice, but with much 
 gladness of heart welcomed me, saying, " Bless 
 your heart, sir, I am very glad you are come : we 
 have looked for you every day this week." 
 
 The cottage door opened, and the daughter 
 come out, followed by her aged and infirm mother. 
 The sight of me naturally brought to recollection 
 the grave at which we had before met. Tears of
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 83 
 
 affection niiaglcd 'with the smile of satisfaction 
 with which I was received by these worthy cot- 
 tagers. I dismounted, and was conducted through 
 a neat little garden, part of which was shaded by 
 two large overspreading elm-trees, to the house. 
 Decency and order were manifest within and with- 
 out. No excuse was made here, on the score of 
 poverty, for confusion and uncleanliness in the dis- 
 posal of their little household. Every thing wore 
 the aspect of neatness and propriety. On each 
 side of the fireplace stood an old oaken arm-chair, 
 where the venerable parents rested their weary 
 limbs after the day's labour was over. On a shelf 
 in one corner lay two Bibles, with a few religious 
 books and tracts. The little room had two win- 
 dows ; a lovely prospect of hills, woods, and fields, 
 appeared through one; the other was more than 
 half obscured by the branches of a vine which was 
 trained across it; between its leaves the sun shone, 
 and cast a cheerful light over the whole place. 
 
 "This," thought I, <'is a fit residence for piety, 
 peace, and contentment. May I learn a fresh 
 lesson for advancement in each through the bless- 
 ing of Grod on this visit !" 
 
 "Sir," said the daughter, "we are not worthy 
 that you should come under our roof. We take 
 it very kind that you should travel so far to see us." 
 
 "My Master," I replied, "came a great deal
 
 84 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 farther to visit us poor sinners. He left the bosom 
 of his Father, laid aside his glory, and came down 
 to this lower world on a visit of mercy and love ; 
 and ought not we, if we profess to follow him, to 
 bear each other's infii-mities, and go about doing 
 good as he did ?" 
 
 The old man now entered and joined his wife 
 and daughter in giving me a cordial welcome. 
 Our conversation soon turned to the loss they had 
 so lately sustained. The pious and sensible dis- 
 position of the daughter was peculiarly manifested, 
 as well in what she said to her parents, as in what 
 she more immediately addressed to myself. I had 
 now a further opportunity of remarking the good 
 sense and agreeable manner which accompanied 
 her expressions of devotedness to God and love 
 to Christ, for the great mercies which he had be- 
 stowed upon her. During her residence in dif- 
 ferent gentlemen's families where she had been in 
 service, she had acquired a superior behaviour and 
 address; but sincere piety rendered her very hum- 
 ble and unassuming in manner and conversation. 
 She seemed anxious to improve the opportunity 
 of my visit to the best purpose for her own and 
 her parents' sake; yet there was nothing of unbe- 
 coming forwardness, no self-consequence or con- 
 ceitedness in her conduct. She united the firmness 
 and solicitude of the Christian with the modesty
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 85 
 
 of the female and the dutifulness of the daughter. 
 It was impossible to be in her company and not 
 observe how truly her temper and conversation 
 adorned the principles which she professed. 
 
 I soon discovered how eager and how successful 
 also she had been in her endeavours to bring her 
 fiither and mother to the knowledge and experience 
 of the truth. This is a lovely feature in the cha- 
 racter of a young Christian. If it have pleased 
 God in the free dispensations of his mercy to call 
 the child by his grace, while the parents remain 
 still in ignorance and sin, how great is the duty 
 incumbent on that child to do what is possible to 
 promote the conversion of those to whom so much 
 is owing! Happy is it when the ties of grace 
 sanctify those of nature ! 
 
 The aged couple evidently regarded and spoke 
 of this daughter as their teacher and admonisher 
 in divine things^ while at the same time they re- 
 ceived from her every token of filial submission 
 and obedience, testified by continual endeavours to 
 serve and assist them to the utmost of her power 
 in the daily concerns of the household. 
 
 The religion of this young woman was of a 
 highly spiritual chai-acter, and of no ordinary at- 
 tainment. Her views of the divine plan in saving 
 the sinner were clear and scriptural. She spoke 
 much of the joys and sorrows which in the course 
 
 8
 
 86 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 of her religious progress she had experienced : but 
 she -was fully sensible that there is far more in 
 real religion than mere occasional transition from 
 one frame of mind and spirits to another. She 
 believed that the experimental acquaintance of the 
 heart with God principally consisted in so living 
 upon Christ by faith as to aim at living like him 
 by love. She knew that the love of Grod toward 
 the sinner, and the path of duty prescribed to the 
 sinner, are both of an unchangeable nature. In a 
 believing dependence on the one, and an affec- 
 tionate walk in the other, she sought and found 
 " the peace of God which passeth all understand- 
 ing;" "for so he giveth his beloved rest." 
 
 She had read but few books besides her Bible ; 
 but these few were excellent in their kind, and 
 she spoke of their contents as one who knew their 
 value. In addition to a Bible and Prayer-book, 
 Doddridge's " Rise and Progress," Romaine's 
 "Life, Walk, and Triumph of Faith," Bunyan's 
 "Pilgrim," Alleine's "Alarm," Baxter's "Saints' 
 Everlasting Rest," a hymn-book, and a few tracts, 
 composed her library. 
 
 I observed in her countenance a pale and deli- 
 cate hue, which I afterward found to be a presage 
 of consumption ; and the idea then occurred to me 
 that she would not live very long. 
 
 Time passed on swiftly with this interesting
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 87 
 
 family ; and after having partaken of some plain 
 and wholsome refreshment, and enjoyed a few 
 hours' conversation with them, I found it was 
 necessary for me to return homeward. The dis- 
 position and character of the parties may be in 
 some sort ascertained by the expressions used at 
 parting. 
 
 "God send you safe home again," said the aged 
 mother, " and bless the day that brought you to 
 see two poor old creatures, such as we are, in our 
 trouble and affliction. Come again, sir, come 
 again, when you can; and though I am a poor 
 ignorant soul, not fit to talk to such a gentleman 
 as you, yet my dear child shall speak for me; she 
 is the greatest comfort I have left, and I hope the 
 good Lord will spare her to support my trembling 
 limbs and feeble spirits till I lie down with my 
 other dear departed children in the grave." 
 
 "Trust to the Lord," I answered, "and re- 
 member his gracious promise, 'Even to your old 
 age I am he ; and even to hoary hairs will I carry 
 
 you.'" 
 
 "I thank you, sir," said the daughter, "for 
 your Christian kindness to me and my friends. 
 I believe the blessing of the Lord has attended 
 your visit, and I hope that I have experienced it 
 to be so. My dear father and mother will, I am
 
 88 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 sure, remember it; and I rejoice in the opportunity 
 of seeing so kind a friend under this roof. Mj 
 Saviour has been abundantly good to me in pluck- 
 ing me ' as a brand from the burning/ and showing 
 me the way of life and peace : and I hope it is my 
 heart's desire to live to his glory. But I long to 
 see these dear friends enjoy the power and comfort 
 of religion likewise." 
 
 ''I think it evident," I replied, " that the pro- 
 mise is fulfilled in their case, 'It shall come t*y 
 pass, that at evening time it shall be light.' " 
 
 *' I believe it," she said, "and praise God for 
 the blessed hope." 
 
 "Thank him too, that you have been the happy 
 instrument of bringing them to the light." 
 
 " I do, sir ; yet, when I think of my own uu- 
 worthiness and insufficiency, I rejoice with trem- 
 bling." 
 
 " Sir," said the good old man, " I am sure the 
 Lord will reward you for this kindness. Pray for 
 us, old as we are, and sinners as we have been, 
 that yet he would have mercy upon us at the 
 eleventh hour. Poor Betsey strives much for our 
 sakes, both in body and soul ; she works hard all 
 day to save us trouble, and I fear has not strength 
 to support all she does ; and then she talks to us, 
 and reads to us, and prays for us, that we may be
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 89 
 
 saved from the -wrath to come. Indeed, sir, she's 
 a rare child to us." 
 
 "Peace be to you and to all that belong to you I" 
 
 "Amen, and thank you, dear sir," was echoed 
 from each tongue. 
 
 Thus we parted for that time. My returning 
 meditations were sweet, and I hope profitable. 
 
 Many other visits were afterward made by me 
 to this peaceful cottage, and I always found in- 
 creasing reason to thank God for the intercourse I 
 there enjoyed. 
 
 An interval of some length occurred once during 
 that, year, in which I had not seen the dairyman's 
 family. I was reminded of the circumstance by 
 the receipt of the following letter : 
 
 " Rev. Sir, — I have been expecting to see or 
 hear from you for a considerable time. Excuse 
 the liberty I take in sending you another letter. 
 I have been confined to the house the greater part 
 
 of the time since I left . I took cold that 
 
 day, and have been worse ever since. I walk out 
 a little on these fine days, but seem to myself to 
 walk very near on the borders of eternity. Glory 
 be to God, it is a very pleasing prospect before 
 me. Though I feel the workings of sin, and am 
 abased, yet Jesus shows his mercy to be mine, 
 and I trust that I am his. At such times, 
 
 8*
 
 90 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 ' My soul would leave this heavy clay 
 
 At liis transporting word, 
 Run up with joy the shining way 
 
 To meet and praise the Lord. 
 
 ' Fearless of hell and ghastly death, 
 
 I'd break through every foe ; 
 The wings of love and arms of faith 
 Would bear me conqueror through." 
 
 My desire is to live every moment to Grod, that I 
 may, through his grace, be kept in that heavenly, 
 happy frame of mind, that I shall wish for at the 
 hour of death. We cannot live or die happy 
 without this; and, to keep it, we must be con- 
 tinually watching and praying. For we have 
 many enemies to disturb our peace. I am so very 
 weak, that now I can go nowhere to any outward 
 means for that help which is so refreshing to my 
 spirit. 
 
 "I should have been very happy to have heard 
 
 you last Sunday when you preached at : I 
 
 could not walk so far. I hope the word spoken by 
 you was made a blessing to many that heard it. 
 It was my earnest prayer to God that it might be 
 so. But, alas ! once calling does not awaken many 
 that are in a sound sleep. Yet the voice of God 
 is sometimes very powerful, when his ministers 
 speak; when they are influenced by his Holy 
 Spirit, and are simple and sincere in holding forth
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 91 
 
 the word of life. Then it will teach us all things, 
 and enlighten our mind and reveal unto us the 
 hidden things of darkness, and give us out of that 
 divine treasure 'things new and old.' Resting on 
 God to work in us both to will and to do of his 
 own good pleasure, we ought always to work as 
 diligent servants, that know they have a good 
 Master, that will surely not forget their labour of 
 love. 
 
 ''If we could but fix our eyes always on that 
 crown of glory that awaits us in the skies, we 
 should never grow weary in well doing; but should 
 run with patience and delight in the work and 
 ways of God, where he appoints us. We should 
 not then, as we too frequently do, suffer these 
 trifling objects here on earth to draw away our 
 minds from God, to rob him of his glory, and our 
 souls of that happiness and comfort which the 
 believer may enjoy amidst outward afflictions. If 
 we thus lived more by faith in the Son of God, 
 we should endeavour to stir up all, whom we 
 could, to seek after God. We should tell them 
 what he has done for us, and what he would do 
 for them, if they truly sought him. We should 
 show them what a glorious expectation there is for 
 all true believers and sincere seekers. 
 
 "When our minds are so fixed on God, we are 
 more desirous of glorifying him, in making known
 
 92 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 bis goodness to us, than the proud rich man is of 
 getting honour to himself. I mourn over my own 
 backwardness to this exercise of duty, when I think 
 of God's willingness to save the vilest of the vile, 
 according to the dispensations of his eternal grace 
 and mercy. ! how amiable, how lovely does 
 this make that God of love appear to poor sinners 
 that can view him as such. How is the soul de- 
 lighted with such a contemplation ! They that 
 have much forgiven, how much they love ! 
 
 ''These thoughts have been much on my mind 
 
 since the death of . I trust the Lord will 
 
 pardon me for my neglect. I thought it was my 
 duty to speak or write to him : you remember 
 what I said to you respecting it. But I still 
 delayed till a more convenient season. ! how I 
 was struck when I heard the Lord had taken him 
 so suddenly. I was filled with sorrow and shame 
 for having neglected what I had so often resolved 
 to do. But now the time for speaking for God to 
 him is over. Hence we see that the Lord's time 
 is the best time. Now the night of death was 
 come upon him ; no more work was to be done. 
 If I had done all that lay in my power to proclaim 
 reconciliation by Christ to his soul, whether he 
 had heard or no, I should have been clear of his 
 blood. But I cannot recall the time that is past, 
 nor him from the grave. Had I known the Lord
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 93 
 
 would have called him so suddenly, how diligent 
 I should have been to warn him of his danger ! 
 But it is enough that God shows us what we are 
 to do, and not what 7ie is about to do with us or 
 any of his creatures. Pray, sir, do all you can 
 for the glory of God. The time will soon pass by, 
 and then we shall enter that glorious rest that he 
 hath prepared for them that love him. I pray 
 God to fill you with that zeal and love which he 
 only can inspire, that you may daily win souls to 
 Christ. May he deliver you from all slavish fear 
 of man, and give you boldness, as he did of old 
 those that were filled with the Holy Ghost and 
 with power ! 
 
 " Remember, Christ has promised to be with 
 all his faithful ministers to the end of time. The 
 greater dangers and difficulties they are exposed 
 to, the more powerful his assistance. Then, sir, 
 let us fear none but him. I hope you will pray 
 much for me, a poor sinner, that God will perfect 
 his strength in my weakness of body and mind. 
 For without him I can do nothing. But when I 
 can experience the teachings of that Holy One, I 
 need no other teacher. May the Lord anoint you 
 with the same, and give you every grace of his 
 Holy Spirit, that you may be filled with all the 
 fulness of God ; that you may know what is the 
 height and depth, the length and breadth of the
 
 94 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 love of G od in Christ Jesus : that you may be in. 
 the hand of the Lord, as a keen archer to draw 
 the bow, while the Lord directs and fastens the 
 arrows of conviction in the hearts of such as are 
 under your ministry ! 
 
 " I sincerely pray that jow may be made a bless- 
 ing to him that has taken the place of the deceased. 
 I have heard that you are fellow-countrymen : I 
 hope you are, however, both as strangers in this 
 world, that have no abiding place, but seek a coun- 
 try out of sight. 
 
 " Pray excuse all faults from your humble ser- 
 vant in the bonds of the gospel of Christ, 
 
 ''Elizabeth Wallbridge." 
 
 When I perused this and other letters, which 
 were at different times written to me by the dairy- 
 man's daughter, I felt that, in the person of this 
 interesting correspondent, were singularly united 
 the characters of an humble disciple and a faithful 
 monitor. I wished to acknowledge the goodness 
 of God in each of these her capacities. 
 
 I sometimes entertain a hope that the last day 
 will unfold the value of these epistolary communi- 
 cations, beyond even any present estimate of their 
 spiritual importance.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 95 
 
 PART IV. 
 
 The translation of sinners, "from the power of 
 darkness into the kingdom of God's dear Son/' is 
 the joy of Christians and the admiration of angels. 
 Every penitent and pardoned soul is a new witness 
 to the triumphs of the Eedeemer over sin, death, 
 and the grave. How great the change that is 
 wrought ! The child of wrath becomes a monu- 
 ment of grace — a brand plucked from the burn- 
 ing ! " If any man be in Christ, he is a new 
 creature : old things are passed away ; behold, all 
 things are become new." How marvellous, how 
 interesting is the spiritual history of each indivi- 
 dual believer ! He is, like David, " a wonder unto 
 many;" but the greatest wonder of all unto him- 
 self. Others may doubt whether it be so, or not; 
 but to him it is unequivocally proved, that, from 
 first to last, grace alone reigns in the works of his 
 salvation. 
 
 The character and privileges of real Christians 
 are beautifully described in the language of our 
 Church, who, when speaking of the objects of di- 
 vine favour and compassion, says : "They that be 
 endued with so excellent a benefit of God, be called 
 according to God's purpose in due season : they 
 through grace obey the calling: they be justified
 
 96 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 freely: they be made sons of God by adoption: 
 they be made like the image of his only begotten 
 Son, Jesus Christ : they walk religiously in good 
 works; and at length by God's mercy they attain 
 to everlasting felicity." 
 
 Such a conception and display of the Almighty 
 wisdom, power, and love, is indeed "full of sweet, 
 pleasant, and unspeakable comfort to godly persons, 
 and such as feel in themselves the working of the 
 Spirit of Christ mortifying the works of the flesh, 
 :iiid their earthly members; and drawing up their 
 minds to high and heavenly things : it doth greatly 
 establish and confirm their faith of eternal salva- 
 tion to be enjoyed through Christ, and doth fer- 
 vently kindle their love toward God." 
 
 Nearly allied to the consolation of a good hope 
 through* grace, as it respects our own personal state 
 before God, is that of seeing its evidences shed 
 lustre over the disposition and conduct of others. 
 Bright was the exhibition of the union between 
 true Christian enjoyment and Christian exertion, 
 in the character whose moral and spiritual features 
 I am attempting to delineate. 
 
 It seemed to be the first wish of her heart to 
 prove to others, what God had already proved to 
 her, that Jesus is " the way, and the truth, and 
 the life." She desired to evince the reality of her 
 calling, justification, and adoption into the family
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 97 
 
 of God, by showing a coDformity to the image of 
 Christ, and by walking "religiously in good 
 works :" she trusted that, in this path of faith and 
 obedience, she should "at length, by God's mercy, 
 attain to everlasting felicity." 
 
 I had the spiritual charge of another parish, ad- 
 joining to that in which I resided. It was a small 
 district and had but few inhabitants. The church 
 was pleasantly situated on a rising bank, at the 
 foot of a considerable hill. It was surrounded by 
 trees, and had a rural, retired appearance. Close 
 to the church-yard stood a large old mansion, 
 which had formerly been the residence of an opu- 
 lent and titled family ; but it had long since been 
 appropriated to the use of the estate as a farm- 
 house. Its outward aspect bore considerable re- 
 mains of ancient grandeur, and gave a pleasing 
 character to the spot of ground on which the 
 church stood. 
 
 In every direction the roads that led to this 
 house of G^d possessed distinct but interesting 
 features. One of them ascended between several 
 rural cottages, from the sea-shore, which adjoined 
 the lower part of the village street. Another 
 wound round the curved sides of the adjacent hill, 
 and was adorned both above and below with 
 numerous sheep feeding on the herbage of the 
 down. A third road led to the church by a gently
 
 98 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 rising approach, between high banks, covered with 
 young trees, bushes, ivy, hedge plants, and wild 
 flowers. 
 
 From a point of land which commanded a view 
 of all these several avenues, I used sometimes for 
 a while to watch my congregation gradually as- 
 sembling together at the hour of Sabbath worship. 
 They were in some directions visible for a consider- 
 able distance. Gratifying associations of thought 
 would form in my mind, as I contemplated their 
 approach and successive arrival within the pre- 
 cincts of the house of prayer. 
 
 One day as I was thus occupied, during a short 
 interval previous to the hour of divine service, I 
 reflected on the joy which David experienced, at 
 the time he exclaimed : " I was glad, when they 
 said unto me. Let us go into the house of the Lord. 
 Our feet shall stand within thy gates, Jerusalem. 
 Jerusalem is builded as a city that is compact to- 
 gether ; whither the tribes go up, the tribes of the 
 Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, to give thanks 
 unto the name of the Lord." 
 
 I was led to reflect upon the various blessings 
 connected with the establishment of public wor- 
 ship. " How many immortal souls are now 
 gathering together to perform the all-important 
 work of prayer and praise — to hear the word of 
 God — to feed upon the bread of life ! They are
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 99 
 
 leaving their respective dwellings, and will soon 
 be united together in the house of prayer. IIow 
 beautifully does this represent the effect produced 
 by the voice of 'the good Shepherd/ calling his 
 sheep from every part of the wilderness into his 
 fold ! As these fields, hills, and lanes, are noAv 
 covered with men, women, and children in various 
 directions, drawing nearer to each other, and to 
 the object of their journey's end; even so, many 
 * shall come from the east, and from the west, and 
 from the north, and from the south, and shall sit 
 down in the kingdom of God.' " 
 
 Who can rightly appreciate the value of such 
 hours as these ? — hours spent in learning the ways 
 of holy pleasantness and the paths of heavenly 
 peace — hours devoted to the service of God and 
 of souls; in warning the sinner to flee from the 
 wrath to come ! in teaching the ignorant how to 
 live and die ; in preaching the gospel to the poor ; 
 in healing the broken-hearted; in declaring deliv- 
 erance to the captives, and recovering of sight to 
 the blind." — '^ Blessed is the people that know 
 the joyful sound : they shall walk, Lord, in the 
 light of thy countenance. In thy name shall they 
 rejoice all the day, and in thy righteousness shall 
 they be exalted." 
 
 My thoughts then pursued a train of reflection 
 on the importance of the ministerial office, as con-
 
 100 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 nected in the purposes of Grod with the salvation 
 of sinners. I inwardly prayed that those many 
 individuals whom he had given me to instruct, 
 might not, through my neglect or error, be as sheep 
 having no shepherd, nor as the blind led by the 
 blind : but rather that I might, in season and out 
 of season, faithfully proclaim the simple and undis- 
 guised truths of the gospel, to the glory of God 
 and the prosperity of his church. 
 
 At that instant, near the bottom of the enclosed 
 lane which led to the church-yard, I observed a 
 friend, whom at such a distance from his own 
 home, I little expected to meet. It was the vene- 
 rable dairyman. He came up the ascent, leaning 
 with one hand on his trusty staff, and with the 
 other on the arm of a younger man, well known to 
 me, who appeared to be much gratified in meeting 
 with such a companion by the way. 
 
 My station was on the top of one of the banks 
 which formed the hollow road beneath. They 
 passed a few yards below me. I was concealed 
 from their sight by a projecting tree. They were 
 t^alking of the mercies of God, and the unsearch- 
 able riches of his grace. The dairyman was tell- 
 ing his companion what a blessing the Lord had 
 given him in his daughter. His countenance 
 brightened as he named her, and called her his 
 precious Betsey.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 101 
 
 I met them at a stile not many yards beyond, 
 and accompanied them to the church which was 
 hard by. 
 
 '' Sir," said the old man, " I have brought a 
 letter from my daughter — I hope I am in time for 
 divine service. Seven miles is now become a long 
 walk for me : I grow old and weak — I am very 
 glad to see you, sir." 
 
 "How is your daughter?" 
 
 "Very poorly indeed, sir, very poorly — the 
 doctors say it is a decline. I sometimes hope she 
 will get the better of it; but then again I have 
 many fears. You know, sir, that I have cause to 
 love and prize her. ! it would be such a trial ; 
 but the Lord knows what is best. Excuse my 
 weakness, sir." 
 
 He put a letter into my hand, the perusal of 
 which I reserved till afterward, as the time was 
 nigh for going into church. 
 
 The presence of this aged pilgrim, and the 
 peculiar reverence and affection with which he 
 joined in the different parts of the semce, excited 
 many gratifying thoughts in my mind ; such as 
 rather furthered than interrupted devotion. 
 
 The train of reflection in which I had been en- 
 gaged, when I first discovered him in the road, at 
 intervals recurred powerfully to my feelings, as I 
 viewed that very congregation assembled together 
 
 9*
 
 102 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 in the house of God, whose steps, in their ap- 
 proach toward it, I had watched with prayerful 
 emotions. 
 
 " Here the rich and poor meet together, in mu- 
 tual acknowledgment that the Lord is the Maker 
 of them all ; and that all are alike dependent crea- 
 tures, looking up to one common Father to supply 
 their wants, both temporal and spiritual. 
 
 "Again, likewise, will they meet together in 
 the grave, that undistinguishiug receptacle of the 
 opulent and the needy. 
 
 " And once more, at the judgment-seat of Christ, 
 shall the rich and the poor meet together, that 
 ' every one may receive the things done in his body, 
 according to that he hath done, whether it be good 
 or bad.' 
 
 "How closely connected in the history of man 
 are these three periods of a general meeting to- 
 gether ! 
 
 " The house of prayer — the house appointed for 
 all living — and the house not made with hands, 
 eternal in the heavens. May we never separate 
 these ideas from each other, but retain them in a 
 sacred and profitable union ! So shall our wor- 
 shipping assemblies on earth be representative of 
 the general assembly and church of the first-born, 
 which are written in heaven." 
 
 When the congregation dispersed, I entered
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 103 
 
 into discourse with the dairyman and a few of the 
 poor of my flock, whose minds were of like disposi- 
 tion to his own. He seldom could speak long to- 
 gether without some reference to his dear child. 
 He loved to tell how merciful his God had been to 
 him, in the dutiful and ajffectionate attentions of 
 his daughter. All real Christians feel a tender 
 and spiritual attachment toward those who have 
 been the instrument of bringing them to an effec- 
 tual knowledge of the way of salvation ; but when 
 that instrument is one so nearly allied, how dear 
 does the relationship become ! 
 
 If my friend the dairyman was in any danger 
 of falling into idolatry, his child would have been 
 the idol of his affections. She was the prop and 
 stay of her parents' declining years, and they 
 scarcely knew how sufficiently to testify the grati- 
 tude of their hearts for the comfort and blessing 
 which she was the means of aflfording them. 
 
 While he was relating several particulars of his 
 family history to the others, I opened and read 
 the following letter : — 
 
 " Sir, — Once more I take the liberty to trouble 
 you with a few lines. I received your letter with 
 great pleasure, and thank you for it. I am now 
 so weak that I am unable to walk to any public 
 place of divine worship, a privilege which has
 
 104 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 heretofore always so much strengthened and re- 
 freshed me. I used to go in anxious expectation 
 to meet my Grod, and hold sweet communion with 
 him, and I was seldom disappointed. In the 
 means of grace all the channels of divine mercy 
 are open to every heart that is lifted up to receive 
 out of that divine fulness grace for grace. These 
 are the times of refreshing from the presence of 
 the Lord. How have I rejoiced to hear a faithful 
 and lively messenger, just come, as it were, from 
 communion with God at the throne of grace, with 
 his heart warmed and filled with divine love, to 
 speak to fallen sinners ! Such a one has seemed 
 to me as if his face shone as that of Moses did 
 with the glory of God, when he came down from 
 the mount; where he had been within the veil. 
 May you, sir, imitate him as he did Christ, that 
 all may see and know that the Lord dwelleth with 
 you, and that you dwell in him through the unity 
 of the blessed Spirit. I trust you are no stranger 
 to his divine teaching, aid, and assistance, in all 
 you set your hand to do for the glory of God. 
 
 " I hope, sir, the sincerity of my wishes for 
 your spiritual welfare will plead an excuse for the 
 freedom of my address to you. I pray the Giver 
 of every perfect gift that you may experience the 
 mighty workings of his gracious Spirit in your 
 heart and your ministry, and rest your all on the
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 105 
 
 justifying and purifying blood of an expiring Re- 
 deemer. Then will you triumph in his strength, 
 and be enabled to say with the poet : — 
 
 * Shall I through fear cf feeble men 
 The Spirit's course strive to restrain? 
 Or, ujidismay'd in deed and word, 
 Be a true witness for my Lord ? 
 
 * Awed by a mortal's frown, shall I 
 Conceal the word of God most high ? 
 How then before thee shall I dare 
 To stand, or how thine auger bear ? 
 
 ' Shall I, to soothe th' unholy throng, 
 Soften thy truths, and smooth my tongue. 
 To gain earth's gilded toys, or flee 
 The cross endured, my God, by thee ? 
 
 * What then is he, whose scorn I dread. 
 Whose wrath or hate makes me afraid? 
 A man? an heir of death? a slave 
 
 To sin, a bubble on the wave ? 
 
 ' Yea, let men rage, since thou wilt spread 
 Thy shadowing wings around my head : 
 Since in all pain thy tender love 
 Will still my sure refreshment prove. 
 
 * Still shall the love of Christ constrain 
 To seek the wandering souls of men. 
 With cries, entreaties, tears to save. 
 
 And snatch them from the yawning grave.
 
 106 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 ' For this let men revile my name, 
 No cross I shun, I fear no shame : 
 All hail reproach, and welcome pain, 
 Only thy terrors, Lord, restrain.' 
 
 " I trust, sir, that you see what a glorious high 
 calling yours is, and that you are one of those who 
 walk humbly with God, that you may be taught 
 of him in all things. Persons in your place are 
 messengers of the most high God. Is it too much 
 to say they should live like the angels in all holi- 
 ness, and be jBlled with love and zeal for men's 
 souls ? They are ambassadors in Christ's stead, 
 to persuade sinners to be reconciled to God. So 
 that your calling is above that of angels : for they 
 are afterward to minister to the heirs of salvation ; 
 but the sinner must be first reconciled to God. 
 And you are called upon from day to day to inter- 
 cede with man, as his friend, that you may win 
 souls to Christ. Christ is ascended up on high, 
 to intercede with his Father for guilty sinners, and 
 to plead for them the merits of his death. So 
 that Christ and his faithful ministers, through the 
 operation of the blessed Spirit, are co-workers to- 
 gether. Yet without him we can do nothing ; our 
 strength is his strength, and his is all the glory 
 from first to last. 
 
 '■'■ It is my heart's prayer and desire, sir, that 
 you may, by a living faith, cleave closer to that
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 107 
 
 blessed, exalted Lamb of God, who died to redeem 
 us from sin — that you may have a sweet commu- 
 nion with Father, Son, and Spirit — that you may 
 sink deep in humble love, and rise high in the life 
 of God. Thus will you have such discoveries of 
 the beauties of Christ and his eternal glory, as will 
 fill your heart with true delight. 
 
 "If I am not deceived, I wish myself to enjoy 
 his gracious favour, more than all the treasures 
 which earth can afford. I would in comparison 
 look upon them with holy disdain, and as not 
 worth an anxious thought, that they may not have 
 power on my heart, to draw or attract it from God, 
 who is worthy of my highest esteem, and of all 
 my affections. It should be our endeavour to set 
 him always before us, that in all things we may 
 act as in his immediate presence : that we may be 
 filled with that holy fear, that we may not dare 
 wilfully to sin against him. We should earnestly 
 entreat the Lord to mortify the power and working 
 of sin and unbelief within us, by making Christ 
 appear more and more precious in our eyes, and 
 more dear to our hearts. 
 
 " It fills my heart with thankful recollections, 
 while I attempt in this weak manner to speak of 
 God's love to man. When I reflect on m?/ past 
 sins and his past mercies, I am assured, that if I 
 had all the gifts of wise men and angels, I could
 
 108 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 never sufficiently describe my own inward sensi; 
 of his undeserved love toward me. We can better 
 enjoy these glorious apprehensions in our hearts 
 than explain them to others. But, ! how un- 
 worthy of them all are we ! Consciousness of m j 
 own corruptions keeps me often low^ yet faith 
 and desire will eagerly mount on high, beseeching 
 God that he would, according to the apostle's 
 prayer, fill me with all his communicable fulness, 
 in the gifts and graces of his Spirit : that I may 
 walk well-pleasing before him, in all holy con- 
 versation, perfecting holiness in his fear. 
 
 " If I err in boldness, sir, pray pardon me, and 
 in your next letter confirm my hope, that you will 
 be my counsellor and guide. 
 
 '' I can only recompense your kindness to me 
 by my prayers, that your own intercourse with 
 <rod may be abundantly blessed to you and yours. 
 I consider the Saviour saying to you, as he did to 
 Peter, ^ Lovest thou me !' and may your heart-felt 
 experience be compelled to reply, ' Thou knowest 
 all things; thou knowest that I love thee' su- 
 premely. May he have evident marks of it in all 
 your outward actions of love and humanity, in 
 feeding his flock, and in the inward fervour and 
 affection of all your consecrated powers : that you 
 may be zealously engaged in pulling down the 
 strongholds of sin and Satan, and building up his
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 109 
 
 church; sowing the seeds of righteousness, and 
 praying Grod to give the increase — that you may 
 not labour for him in vain ; but may see the trees 
 bud and blossom, and bring forth fruit abundantly, 
 to the praise and glory of your heavenly Master. 
 In order to give you encouragement he says, 
 whosoever ' converteth a sinner from the error of 
 his way, shall save a soul from death;' and that 
 will increase the brightness of your crown in 
 glory. This hath Christ merited for his faithful 
 ministers. 
 
 "I hope, sir, you will receive grace to be sin- 
 cere in reproving sin, wherever you see it. You 
 will find divine assistance, and all fear and shame 
 taken from you. Great peace will be given to 
 you, and wisdom, strength, and courage according 
 to your work. You will be as Paul ; having much 
 learning, you can speak to men in all stations in 
 life, by God's assistance. The fear of ofi'ending 
 them will never prevent you, when you consider 
 the glory of God ; and man's immortal soul is of 
 more value than his present favour and esteem. 
 In particular, you are in an office wherein you can 
 visit all the sick. Man's extremity is often God's 
 opportunity. In this way you may prove an in- 
 strument in his hand to do his work. Althoush 
 he can work without means, yet his usual way is 
 by means: and I trust you are a chosen vessel 
 
 10
 
 110 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 unto him, to prove his name and declare his truth 
 to all men. 
 
 " Visiting the sick is a strict command, and a 
 duty for every Christian. None can tell what good 
 may be done. I wish it was never neglected, as 
 it too often is. Many think, that if they attend 
 in the church — the minister to preach, and the 
 people to hear — their duty is done. But more is 
 required than this. May the Lord stir up the 
 gift that is in his people and ministers, that they 
 may have compassion on their fellow-sinners, that 
 they may never think it too late, but remember, 
 that, while there is life, there is hope ! 
 
 '^ Once more, I pray, sir, pardon and excuse all 
 my errors in judgment, and the ignorance that 
 this is penned in ; and may God bless you in all 
 things, and particularly your friendship to me and 
 my parents ! What a comfort is family religion ! 
 I do not doubt, but this is your desire, as it is 
 mine, to say, 
 
 ' I and my house ■will serve the Lord, 
 But first obedient to bis word 
 
 I must myself appear : 
 By actions, words, and tempers show, 
 That I my heavenly blaster know, 
 And serve with heart sincere. 
 
 * I must the fair example set, 
 From those that on my pleasure wait *" 
 The stumbling-block remove ;
 
 THE DAIRYiMAN's DAUGHTER. Ill 
 
 Their duty by my life explain, 
 And still in all my Tcorks maintain 
 The dignity of love. 
 
 ' Easy to be entreated, mild, 
 Quickly appeased and reconciled, 
 
 A follower of my God ; 
 A saint indeed I long to be. 
 And lead my faithful family 
 
 In the celestial road. 
 
 * Lord, if thou dost the wish infuse, 
 A vessel fitted for thy use 
 
 Into thy hands receive ; 
 Work in me both to will and do. 
 And show them how believers true 
 
 And real Christians live. 
 
 'With all-sufficient grace supply, 
 And then I'll come to testify 
 
 The wonders of thy name, 
 Which saves from sin, the world, and hell, 
 Its power may every sinner feel 
 And every tongue proclaim ! 
 
 ' Cleansed by the blood of Christ from sin, 
 I seek my relatives to win. 
 
 And preach their sins forgiven ; 
 Children, and wife, and servants seize, 
 And through the paths of pleasantness 
 
 Conduct them all to heaven.' 
 
 " Living so much in a solitary way, books are 
 my companions; and poetry, which speaks of the
 
 112 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 love of God and the mercies of Christ, is very 
 sweet to my mind. This must be my excuse for 
 troubling you to read verses which others have 
 written. I have intended, if my declining state 
 
 of health will permit, to go to for a few days. 
 
 I say this lest you should call in expectation of 
 seeing me, during any part of next week. But 
 my dear father and mother, for whose precious 
 souls I am very anxious, will reap the benefit of 
 your visit at all events. From 
 
 '' Your humble and unworthy servant, 
 
 " Elizabeth Wallbridge." 
 
 Having read it, I said to the father of my highly 
 valued correspondent, 
 
 " I thank you for being the bearer of this letter : 
 your daughter is a kind friend and faithful coun- 
 sellor to me, as well as to you. Tell her how 
 highly I esteem her friendship, and that I feel 
 truly obliged for the many excellent sentiments 
 which she has here expressed. Give her my 
 blessing, and assure her that the oftener she 
 writes, the more thankful I shall be." 
 
 The dairyman's enlivened eye gleamed with 
 pleasure as I spoke. The praise 'of his Elizabeth 
 was a string which could not be touched without 
 causing every nerve of his whole frame to vibrate. 
 
 His voice half faltered, as he spoke in reply;
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 113 
 
 the tear started in his eyes ; his hand trembled, as 
 I pressed it; his heart was full; he could only 
 
 say, 
 
 " Sir, a poor old man thanks you for your kind- 
 ness to him and his family : God bless you, sir ; 
 I hope we shall soon see you again." 
 
 Thus we parted for that day. 
 
 PART V. 
 
 It has not unfrequently been observed, that 
 when it is the Lord's pleasure to remove any of 
 his faithful followers out of this life at an early 
 period of their course, they make rapid progress 
 in the experience of divine truth. The fruits of 
 the Spirit ripen fast within them, as they advance 
 to the close of mortal existence. In particular 
 they grow in humility, through a deeper sense of 
 inward corruption, and a clearer view of the per- 
 fect character of the Saviour. Disease and bodily 
 weakness make the thoughts of eternity recur with 
 frequency and power. The great question of their 
 own personal salvation — the quality of their faith, 
 the sincerity of their love, and the purity of their 
 hope — is in continual exercise. 
 
 Unseen realities, at such a time, occupy a larger 
 
 portion of thought than before. The state of ex- 
 
 10*
 
 114 THE dairyman's DAUGHTEU. 
 
 istence beyond the grave, the invisible world, the 
 unalterable character of the dead, the future judg- 
 ment, the total separation from every thing earthly, 
 the dissolution of body and spirit, and their re- 
 union at the solemn hour of resurrection — these 
 are subjects for their meditation, which call for 
 serious earnestness of soul. Whatever consola- 
 tions from the Spirit of Grod they may have en- 
 joyed heretofore, they become now doubly anxious 
 to examine and prove themselves, '' whether they 
 be indeed in the faith." In doing this, they some- 
 times pass through hidden conflicts of a dark and 
 distressing nature : from which, however, they 
 come forth, like gold tried in the furnace. A while 
 they may " sow in tears," but soon they " reap 
 in joy." 
 
 Their religious feelings have then, perhaps, less 
 of ecstasy, but more of serenity. 
 
 As the ears of corn ripen for the harvest, they 
 bow their heads nearer to the ground. So it is 
 with believers ; they then see more than ever of 
 their own imperfections, and often express their 
 sense of it in strong language ; yet they repose 
 with a growing confidence on the love of God 
 through Christ Jesus. The nearer they advance 
 to their eternal rest, the more humble they be- 
 come, but not the less useful in their sphere. 
 They feel anxiously desirous of improving every
 
 THE DAIRYMAN S DAUGHTER. 115 
 
 talent they possess to the glory of God, knowing 
 that the time is short. 
 
 I thought I observed the truth of these remarks 
 fulfilled in the progressive state of mind of the 
 dairyman's daughter. 
 
 Declining health seemed to indicate the will of 
 God concerning her. But her character, conduct, 
 and experience of the divine favour increased in 
 brightness as the setting sun of her mortal life 
 approached its horizon. The last letter which, 
 with the exception of a very short note, I ever 
 received from her, I shall now transcribe. It 
 appeared to me to bear the marks of a still deeper 
 acquaintance with the workings of her own heart, 
 and a more entire reliance upon the free mercy 
 of God. 
 
 The original, while I copy it, strongly revives 
 the image of the deceased, and the many profitable 
 conversations which I once enjoyed in her com- 
 pany, and that of her parents. It again endears 
 me to the recollections of cottage piety, and helps 
 me to anticipate the joys of that day when the 
 spirits of the glorified saints shall be reunited to 
 their bodies, and be for ever with the Lord. 
 
 The writer of this and the preceding letters 
 herself little imagined, when they were penned, 
 that they would ever be submitted to the public 
 eye : that they now are so, results from a con-
 
 116 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 viction that tlie frieuds of the pious poor will es- 
 timate them according to their value ; and a hope 
 that it may please God to honour these memorials 
 of the dead to the effectual edification of the living. 
 
 " Rev. Sir, — In consequence of your kind per- 
 mission, I take the liherty to trouble you with 
 another of my ill- written letters ; and I trust you 
 have too much of your blessed Master's lowly, 
 meek, and humble mind, to be offended with a 
 poor, simple, ignorant creature, whose intentions 
 are pure and sincere in writing. My desire is, 
 that I, a weak vessel of his grace, may glorify his 
 name for his goodness toward me. May the Lord 
 direct me by his counsel and wisdom ! May he 
 overshadow me with his presence ; that I may sit 
 beneath the banner of his love, and find the con- 
 solations of his blessed Spirit sweet and refreshing 
 to my soul ! 
 
 " When I feel that I am nothing, and God is 
 all in all, then I can willingly fly to him, saying, 
 ' Lord, help me ; Lord, teach me ; be unto mo 
 my Prophet, Priest, and King. Let me know the 
 teaching of thy grace, and the disclosing of thy 
 love.' What nearness of access might we have 
 if we lived more near to God ! What sweet com- 
 munion might we have with a God of love ! He 
 is the great I AM. How glorious a name ! Angels
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER, 117 
 
 with trembling awe prostrate themselves before 
 him, and in humble love adore and worship him. 
 One says, — 
 
 ' While the first archangel sings, 
 He hides his face behind his wings.' 
 
 Unworthy as I am, I have found it by experience, 
 that the more I see of the greatness and goodness 
 of God, and the nearer union I hope I have had 
 with him through the Spirit of his love, the more 
 humble and self-abased I have been. 
 
 " But every day I may say, * Lord, how little 
 I love thee, how far I live from thee, how little 
 I am like thee in humility !' It is nevertheless 
 my heart's desire to love and serve him better. I 
 find the way in which Grod does more particularly 
 bless me, is when I attend on the public ordinances 
 of religion. These are the channels through which 
 he conveys the riches of his grace and precious 
 love to my soul. These I have often found to be 
 indeed the time of refreshing and strengthening 
 from the presence of the Lord. Then I can see 
 my hope of an interest in the covenant of his 
 love, and praise him for his mercy to the greatest 
 of sinners. 
 
 "I earnestly wish to be more established in 
 his ways, and to honour him in the path of duty, 
 while I enjoy the smiles of his favour. In the 
 midst of all outward afflictions I pray that I may
 
 118 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 know Christ and the power of his resurrection 
 within my soul. If I were always thus, my sum- 
 mer would last all the year ; my will would then 
 be sweetly lost in God's will, and I should feel a 
 resignation to every dispensation of his providence 
 and his grace, saying, ' Good is the wall of the 
 Lord : infinite wisdom cannot err.' Then would 
 patience have its perfect work. 
 
 " But alas ! sin and unbelief often, too often, 
 interrupt these frames, and lay me low before God 
 in tears of sorrow. I often think what a happi- 
 ness it would be, if his love were so fixed in my 
 heart, that I might willingly obey him with alac- 
 rity and delight, and gradually mortify the power 
 of self-will, passion, and pride. This can only 
 arise from a good hope through grace, that we 
 are washed in that precious blood which cleanses 
 us from every sinful stain, and makes us new 
 creatures in Christ. that we may be the happy 
 witnesses of the saving power and virtue of that 
 healing stream which flows from the fountain of 
 everlasting love ! 
 
 " Sir, my faith is often exceedingly weak : can 
 you be so kind as to tell me, what you have found 
 to be the most efiectual means of strengthening 
 it ? I often think how plainly the Lord declares, 
 ' Believe only, and thou shalt be saved. Only 
 have faith ; all things are possible to him that has
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 119 
 
 it.' How I wish that we could remove all those 
 mountains that hinder and obstruct the light of 
 his grace; so that having full access unto God 
 through that ever-blessed Spirit, we might lovingly 
 commune with him as with the dearest of friends. 
 What favour doth God bestow on worms ! And 
 yet we love to murmur and complain. He may 
 well say, What should I have done more, that I 
 have not done ? or wherein have I proved un- 
 faithful or unkind to my faithless backsliding 
 children ? 
 
 " Sir, I pray that I may not grieve him, as I 
 have done, any more. I want your counsel and 
 your prayers for me in this matter. How refresh- 
 ing is the sight of one that truly loves God, that 
 bears his image and likeness ! 
 
 "But delightful as is conversation with true 
 believers on earth, whose hearts are lifted up to 
 things above, yet what is this to that happy day 
 which will admit us into more bright realms; 
 where we shall for ever behold a God of love in 
 the smiling face of his Son, who is the express 
 image of his Father and the brightness of his 
 glory ? Then, if found in him, we shall be received 
 by the innumerable hosts of angels who wait 
 around his throne. 
 
 " In the mean time, sir, may I take up my cross 
 and manfully fight under Him, who, for the glory
 
 120 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 that was set before Lira, endured the cross, despised 
 the shame, and is now set down at his Father's 
 right hand in majesty ! I thank you for the kind 
 liberty you have given me of writing to you. I 
 feel my health declining, and I find a relief during 
 an hour of pain and weakness in communicating 
 these thoughts to you. 
 
 "I hope, sir, you go on your way rejoicing; 
 that you are enabled to thank Him who is the 
 Giver of every good gift, spiritual, temporal, and 
 providential, for blessings to yourself and your 
 ministry. I do not doubt but you often meet 
 with circumstances which are not pleasing to na- 
 ture, yet, by the blessing of God, they will all be 
 profitable in the end. They are kindly designed 
 by grace to make and keep us humble. The diffi- 
 culties which you spoke of to me some time since 
 will, I trust, disappear. 
 
 " My dear father and mother are as well as usual 
 in bodily health, and I hope grow in grace, and 
 in the knowledge and love of Jesus Christ. My 
 chief desire to live is for their sakes. It now 
 seems long since we have seen you. I am almost 
 ashamed to request you to come to our little cot- 
 tage to visit those who are so much below your 
 station in life. But if you cannot come, we shall 
 be very glad if you will write a few lines. I ought 
 to make an excuse for my letter, I spell so badly :
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 121 
 
 this was a gi-eat neglect when I was young. I 
 gave myself greatly to reading, but not to the 
 other, and now I am too weak and feeble to learn 
 much. 
 
 "I hear sometimes of persons growing serious 
 in your congregation. It gives me joy, and if 
 true, I am sure it does so to yourself. I long for 
 the pure gospel of Christ to be preached in every 
 church in the world, and for the time when all 
 shall know, love, and fear the Lord; and the 
 uniting Spirit of God shall make them of ono 
 heart and mind in Christ our great Head. Your 
 greatest joy I know will be in labouring much for 
 the glory of God in the salvation of men's souls. 
 You serve a good Master. You have a sure re- 
 ward. I pray God to give you strength according 
 to your day. 
 
 " Pray, sir, do not be offended at the freedom 
 and manner of my writing. My parents' duty 
 and love to you are sent with these lines, from 
 
 " Your humble servant in Christ, 
 
 "Elizabeth Wallbridge." 
 
 Epistolary communications, when written in 
 sincerity of heart, afford genuine portraits of the 
 mind. May the foregoing be viewed with Chris- 
 tian candour, and consecrated to affectionate me- 
 mory ! 
 
 11
 
 122 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 PART VI. 
 
 Travellers, as they pass througli the country, 
 usually stop to inquire whose are the splendid 
 mansions which they discover among the woods 
 and plains around them. The families, titles, for- 
 tune or character of the respective owners, engage 
 much attention. Perhaps their houses are ex- 
 hibited to the admiring stranger. The elegant 
 rooms, costly furniture, valuable paintings, beau- 
 tiful gardens and shrubberies, are universally ap- 
 proved ; while the rank, fashion, taste, and riches 
 of the possessor aflford ample materials for enter- 
 taining discussion. In the mean time, the lowly 
 cottage of the poor husbandman is passed by as 
 scarcely deserving of notice. Yet perchance such 
 a cottage may often contain a treasure of infinitely 
 more value than the sumptuous palace of the rich 
 man ; even "the pearl of great price." If this be 
 set in the heart of the poor cottager, it proves a 
 gem of unspeakable worth, and will shine among 
 the brightest ornaments of the Redeemer's crown, 
 in that day when he maketh up his "jewels." 
 
 Hence, the Christian traveller, while in common 
 with others he bestows his due share of applause 
 on the decorations of the rich, and is not insensible 
 to the beauties and magnificence which are the
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 123 
 
 lawfully allowed appendages of rank and fortune, 
 cannot overlook the humbler dwelling of the poor. 
 And if he should find that true piety and grace 
 beneath the thatched roof, which he has in vain 
 looked for amidst the worldly grandeur of the 
 rich, he remembers the declarations in the word 
 of Grod. He sees with admiration, that "the high 
 and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose 
 name is Holy, who dwelleth in the high and holy 
 place, dwelleth with him also that is of a contrite 
 and humble spirit," (Isa. Ivii. 15,) and although 
 heaven is his throne, and the earth his footstool, 
 yet, when a house is to be built, and a place of 
 rest to be sought for himself, he says, " To this 
 man will I look, even to him that is poor, and of 
 a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word," Isa. 
 kii. 1, 2. 
 
 When a house is thus tenanted, faith beholds 
 this inscription written on the walls, The Lord 
 lives liere. Faith therefore cannot pass it by un- 
 noticed, but loves to lift up the latch of the door, 
 and to sit down and converse with the poor, 
 although perhaps despised inhabitant. Many a 
 sweet interview does Faith obtain, when she thus 
 takes her walks abroad. Many such a sweet in- 
 terview have I myself enjoyed beneath the roof 
 where dwelt the dairyman and his little family. 
 
 I soon perceived that his daughter's health was
 
 124 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 rapidly on the decline. The pale, wasting con- 
 Bumption, which is the Lord's instrument for 
 removing so many thousands every year from the 
 land of the living, made hasty strides on her con- 
 Btitution. The hollow eye, the distressing cough, 
 and the often too flattering red on the cheek, fore- 
 told the approach of death. 
 
 What a field for usefulness and affectionate 
 attention on the part of ministers and Christian 
 friends is opened hy the frequent attacks and 
 lingering progress of consum'ptive illness ! How 
 many such precious opportunities are daily lost, 
 where Providence seems in so marked a way to 
 afford time and space for serious and godly instruc- 
 tion ! Of how many may it be said, '' The way 
 of peace have they not known !" for not one friend 
 ever came nigh to warn them to *' flee from the 
 wrath to come.'' 
 
 But the dairyman's daughter was happily made 
 acquainted with the things which belonged to her 
 everlasting peace before the present disease had 
 taken root in her constitution. In my visits to 
 her, I went rather to receive information than to 
 impart it. Her mind was abundantly stored with 
 divine truths, and her conversation was truly 
 edifying. The recollection of it must ever produce 
 a thankful sensation in my heart.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 125 
 
 I one day received a short note to the following 
 effect :— 
 
 " Dear Sir, — I should he very glad, if your 
 convenience will allow, that you would come and 
 see a poor unworthy sinner : my hour-glass is 
 nearly run out, but I hope I can see Christ to be 
 precious to my soul. Your conversation has often 
 been blessed to me, and I now feel the need of it 
 more than ever. My father and mother send their 
 duty to you. 
 
 " From your obedient and unworthy servant, 
 "Elizabeth Wallbridge." 
 
 I obeyed the summons that same afternoon. 
 On my arrival at the dairyman's cottage, his wife 
 opened the door. The tears streamed down her 
 cheek as she silently shook her head. Her heart 
 was full. She tried to speak, but could not. I 
 took her by the hand, and said, 
 
 " My good friend, all is right, and as the Lord 
 of wisdom and mercy directs." 
 
 '' ! my Betsey, my dear girl is so bad, sir : 
 what shall I do without her ? — I thought I should 
 have gone first to the grave, but " 
 
 " But the Lord sees good that before you die 
 
 yourself, you should behold your child safe home 
 
 to glory. Is there no mercy in this ?" 
 
 11*
 
 126 THE dairyman's dauguter. 
 
 " 0, dear sir ! I am very old and very weak ; 
 and she is a dear child, the staff and prop of a poor 
 old creature, as I am." 
 
 As I advanced, I saw Elizabeth sitting by the 
 fireside, supported in an arm-chair by pillows, 
 with every mark of rapid decline and approaching 
 death. A sweet smile of friendly complacency 
 enlightened her pale countenance, as she said, 
 
 " This is very kind indeed, sir, to come so soon 
 after I sent to you. You find me daily wasting 
 away, and I cannot have long to continue here. 
 My flesh and my heart fail ; but God is the strength 
 of my weak heart, and I trust will be my portion 
 for ever." 
 
 The conversation was occasionally interrupted 
 by her cough and want of breath. Her tone of 
 voice was clear, though feeble; her manner solemn 
 and collected, and her eye, though more dim than 
 formerly, by no means wanting in liveliness, as 
 she spoke. I had frequently admired the superior 
 language in which she expressed her ideas, as well 
 as the Scriptural consistency with which she com- 
 municated her thoughts. She had a good natural 
 understanding; and grace, as is generally the 
 case, had much improved it. On the present 
 occasion I could not help thinking she was pecu- 
 liarly favoured. The whole strength of gracious 
 and natural attainments seemed to be in full exercise.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 127 
 
 After taking my seat between the daughter and 
 the mother, (the latter fixing her fond eyes upon 
 her child with great anxiety while we were con- 
 versing,) I said to Elizabeth, 
 
 "I hope you enjoy a sense of the divine pre- 
 sence, and can rest all upon Him who has ' been 
 with thee,' and has kept thee, 'in all places whither 
 thou hast gone,' and will bring thee into ' the land 
 of pure delight, where saints immortal reign.' " 
 
 '' Sir, I think I can. My mind has lately been 
 sometimes clouded, but I believe it has been partly 
 owing to the great weakness and suffering of my 
 bodily frame, and partly to the envy of my 
 spiritual enemy, who wants to persuade me that 
 Christ has no love for me, and that I have been a 
 self-deceiver." 
 
 "And do you give way to his suggestions? 
 Can you doubt amidst such numerous tokens of 
 past and present mercy ?" 
 
 " No, sir, I mostly am enabled to preserve a 
 clear evidence of His love. I do not wish to add 
 to my other sins that of denying his manifest 
 goodness to my soul. I would acknowledge it to 
 his praise and glory." ' 
 
 " What is your present view of the state in 
 which you were, before you felt seriously con- 
 cerned about the salvation of your soul ?" 
 
 " Sir, I was a proud, thoughtless girl, fond of
 
 128 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 dress and finery ; I loved the world and the things 
 that are in the world ; I lived in service among 
 worldly people, and never had the happiness of 
 being in a family where worship was regarded, 
 and the souls of the servants cared for either by 
 master or mistress. I went once on a Sunday to 
 church, more to see and be seen than to pray or 
 hear the word of God. I thought I was quite 
 good enough to be saved, and disliked and often 
 laughed at religious people. I was in great dark- 
 ness ; I knew nothing of the way of salvation ; I 
 never prayed, nor was sensible of the awful danger 
 of a prayerless state. I wished to maintain the 
 character of a good servant, and was much lifted 
 up whenever I met with applause. I was tolerably 
 moral and decent in my conduct, from motives of 
 carnal and worldly policy ; but I was a stranger 
 to God and Christ ; I neglected my soul ; and had 
 I died in such a state, hell must, and would justly, 
 have been my portion." 
 
 " How long is it since you heard the sermon 
 which you hope, through God's blessing, effected 
 your conversion ?" 
 
 " About five years ago." 
 
 " How was it brought about ?" 
 
 '' It was reported that a Mr. , who was 
 
 detained by contrary winds from embarking on 
 board ship as chaplain to a distant part of the
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 129 
 
 world, was to preach at church.* Many 
 
 advised mc not to go, for fear he should turn my 
 head ; as they said he held strange notions. But 
 curiosity, and the opportunity of appearing in a 
 new gown, which I was very proud of, induced me 
 to ask leave of my mistress to go. Indeed, sir, I 
 had no better motives than vanity and curiosity. 
 Yet thus it pleased the Lord to order it for his 
 own glory. 
 
 " I accordingly went to church, and saw a great 
 crowd of people collected together. I often think 
 of the contrary states of my mind during the 
 former and latter part of the service. For a while, 
 regardless of the worship of God, I looked around 
 me, and was anxious to attract notice to myself. 
 My dress, like that of too many gay, vain, and 
 silly servant girls, was much above my station, 
 and very different from that which becomes an 
 humble sinner, who has a modest sense of pro- 
 priety and decency. The state of my mind w:i8 
 visible enough from the foolish finery of my ap- 
 parel. 
 
 " A't length the clergyman gave out his text : 
 ' Be ye clothed with huniiUti/.' lie drew a com- 
 parison between the clothing of the body with 
 
 * The reader is referred to the Introduction, where 
 this error is corrected.
 
 130 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 that of the soul. At a very early part of his dis- 
 course I began to feel ashamed of my passion for 
 fine dressing and apparel ; but when he came to 
 describe the garment of salvation with which a 
 Christian is clothed, I felt a powerful discovery 
 of the nakedness of my soul. I saw that I had 
 neither the humility mentioned in the text, nor 
 any one part of the true Christian character. I 
 looked at my gay dress, and blushed for shame 
 on account of my pride. I looked at the minister, 
 and he seemed to be as a messenger sent from 
 heaven to open my eyes. I looked at the con- 
 gregation, and wondered whether any one else 
 felt as I did. I looked at my heart, and it ap- 
 peared full of iniquity. I trembled as he spoke, 
 and yet I felt a great drawing of heart to the 
 words he uttered. 
 
 " He opened the riches of divine grace in God's 
 method of saving the sinner. I was astonished at 
 what I had been doing all the days of my life. 
 He described the meek, lowly, and humble ex- 
 ample of Christ; I felt proud, lofty, vain, and 
 self-consequential. He represented Christ as ' wis- 
 dom ;' I felt my ignorance. He held him forth 
 as ^righteousness;' I was convinced of my own 
 guilt. He proved him to be ' sanctification ;' I 
 saw my corruption. He proclaimed him as ' re- 
 demption ;' I felt my slavery to sin, and my cap-
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 131 
 
 tivity to Satan. He concluded with an animated 
 address to sinners, in which he exhorted them to 
 flee from the wrath to come, to cast off the love 
 of outward ornaments, to put on Jesus Christ, and 
 be clothed with true humility. 
 
 " From that hour I never lost sight of the value 
 of my soul and the danger of a sinful state. I 
 inwardly blessed Grod for the sermon, although 
 my mind was in a state of great confusion. 
 
 "The preacher had brought forward the ruling 
 passion of my heart, which was pride in outward 
 dress ; and by the grace of Grod it was made in- 
 strumental to the awakening of my soul. Happy, 
 sir, would it be, if many a poor girl, like myself, 
 were turned from the love of outward adorning 
 and putting on of fine apparel, to seek that which 
 is not corruptible, even the ornament of a meek 
 and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of Grod of 
 great price. 
 
 " The greater part of the congregation, unused 
 to such faithful and scriptural sermons, disliked 
 and complained of the severity of the preacher ; 
 while a few, as I afterward found, like myself, 
 were deeply affected, and earnestly wished to hear 
 him again. But he preached there no more. 
 
 " From that time I was led, through a course 
 of private prayer, reading, and meditation, to see 
 my lost estate as a sinner, and the great mercy of
 
 1"2 THE DAIRYMAN S DAUGHTER, 
 
 flod through Jesus Christ in raising sinful dust 
 nnd ashes to a share in the glorious happiness of 
 heaven. And, sir ! what a Saviour I have 
 found ! He is more than I could ask or desire. 
 In his fulness I have found all that my poverty 
 could need ; in his bosom I have found a resting- 
 place from all sin and sorrow; in his word I have 
 found strength against doubt and unbelief. 
 
 " Were you not soon convinced," I said, " that 
 jour salvation must be an act of entire grace on 
 the part of God, wholly independent of your own 
 previous works or dcservings ?" 
 
 " Dear sir, what were my works before I heard 
 that sermon, but evil, carnal, selfish, and ungodly ? 
 'J'he thoughts of my heart, from my youth upward, 
 were only evil, and that continually. And my 
 dcservings, what were they, but the deservings of 
 a fallen, depraved, careless soul, that regarded 
 neither law nor gospel ? Yes, sir, I immediately 
 saw that if ever I were saved, it must be by the 
 free mercy of God, and that the whole praise and 
 honour of the work would be his from first to last." 
 
 " What change did you perceive in yourself with 
 respect to the world '/" 
 
 "It appeared all vanity and vexation of spirit. 
 1 found it necessary to my peace of mind to come 
 out from among them and be separate. I gave 
 myself to prayer ; and many a happy hour of secret
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 133 
 
 delight I enjoyed in communion with God. Often 
 I mourned over my sins, and sometimes had a great 
 conflict through unbelief, fear, temptation to return 
 back again to my old ways, and a variety of diffi- 
 culties which lay in my way. But He who loved 
 me with an everlasting love, drew me by his loving- 
 kindness, showed me the way of peace, gradually 
 strengthened me in my resolutions of leading a 
 new life, and taught me, that while without him 
 I could do nothing, I yet might do all things 
 through his strength." 
 
 " Did you not find many difficulties in your 
 situation, owing to your change of principle and 
 practice ?" 
 
 " Yes, sir, every day of my life. I was laughed 
 at by some, scolded at by others, scorned by ene- 
 mies, and pitied by friends. I was called hypo- 
 crite, saint, false deceiver, and many more names 
 which were meant to render me hateful in the 
 sight of the world. But I esteemed the reproach 
 of the cross an honour. I forgave and prayed for 
 my persecutors, and remembered how very lately 
 I had acted the same part toward others myself. 
 I thought also that Christ endured the contra- 
 diction of sinners ; and, as the disciple is not above 
 his Master, I was glad to be in any way conformed 
 to his suflFerings." 
 
 " Did you not then feel for your family at home ?" 
 
 12
 
 134 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 "Yes, that I did indeed, sir; they were never 
 out of my thoughts. I prayed continually for 
 them, and had a longing desire to do them good. 
 In particular I felt for my father and mother, as 
 they were getting into years, and were very igno- 
 rant and dark in matters of religion." 
 
 "Ay," interrupted her mother, sobbing, "ig- 
 norant and dark, sinful and miserable we were, 
 till this dear Betsey — this dear Betsey — this dear 
 child, sir, brought Christ Jesus home to her poor 
 father and mother's house." 
 
 "No, dearest mother, say rather, Christ Jesus 
 brought your poor daughter home, to tell you 
 what he had done for her soul, and, I hope, to do 
 the same for yours." 
 
 At this moment the dairyman came in with 
 two pails of milk hanging from the yoke on his 
 shoulders. He had stood behind the half-opened 
 door for a few minutes, and heard the last sen- 
 tences spoken by his wife and daughter. 
 
 " Blessing and mercy upon her !" said he, " it 
 is very true ; she left a good place of service on 
 purpose to live with us, that she might help us 
 both in soul and body. Sii-, don't she look very 
 ill ? I think, sir, we shan't have her here long." 
 
 " Leave that to the Lord," said Elizabeth. 
 " All our times are in his hand, and happy it is 
 that they are. I am willing to go ; are not you
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 135 
 
 willing, my fattier, to part with me into ITis hands, 
 who gave me to you at first ?" 
 
 " Ask me any question in the world but that," 
 said the weeping father. 
 
 "I know," said she, "you wish me to be happy." 
 
 " I do, I do," answered he ; " let the Lord do 
 with you and us as best pleases him." 
 
 I then asked her on what her present consola- 
 tions chiefly depended, in the prospect of ap- 
 proaching death. 
 
 "Entirely, sir, on my view of Christ. When 
 I look at myself, many sins, infirmities, and im- 
 perfections cloud the image of Christ which I want 
 to see in my own heart. But when I look at the 
 Saviour himself, he is altogether lovely; there is 
 not one spot in his countenance, nor one cloud 
 over all his perfections. 
 
 "I think of his coming in the flesh, and it re- 
 conciled me to the sufi"erings of the body; for he 
 had them as well as I. I think of his temptations, 
 and believe that he is able to succour me when I 
 am tempted. Then I think of his cross, and learn 
 to bear my own, I reflect on his death, and long 
 to die unto sin, so that it may no longer have 
 dominion over me. I sometimes think on his 
 resurrection, and trust that he has given me a 
 part in it, for I feel that my afiections are set 
 upon things above. Chiefly I take comfort in
 
 136 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 thinking of him as at the right hand of the Father, 
 pleading my cause, and rendering acceptable even 
 my feeble prayers, both for myself, and, as I hope, 
 for my dear friends. 
 
 "These are the views which, through mercy, I 
 have of my Saviour's goodness; and they have 
 made me wish and strive in my poor way to serve 
 him, to give myself up to him, and to labour to 
 do my duty in that state of life into which it has 
 pleased him to call me. 
 
 "A thousand times I should have fallen and 
 fainted, if he had not upheld me. I feel that I 
 am nothing without him. He is all in all. 
 
 "Just so ftir as I can cast my care upon him, I 
 find strength to do his will. May he give me 
 grace to trust him till the last moment ! I do not 
 fear death, because I believe that he has taken 
 away its sting. And ! what happiness beyond I 
 — Tell me, sir, whether you think I am right. 
 I hope I am under no delusion. I dare not look 
 for my hope in any thing short of the entire 
 fulness of Christ. When I ask my own heart a 
 question, I am afraid to trust it, for it is treacherous, 
 and has often deceived me. But when I ask Christ, 
 he answers me with promises that strengthen and 
 refresh me, and leave me no room to doubt his 
 power and will to save. I am in his hands, and 
 would remain there ; and I do believe that he will
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 137 
 
 never leave nor forsake me, but will perfect the 
 thing that concerns me. He loved me and gave 
 himself for me, and I believe that his gifts and 
 callings are without repentance. In this hope I 
 live; in this hope I wish to die." 
 
 I looked around me, as she was speaking, and 
 thought, " Surely this is none other than the house 
 of God, and the gate of heaven." Every thing 
 appeared neat, cleanly, and interesting. The 
 afternoon had been rather overcast with dark 
 clouds; but just now the setting sun shone brightly 
 and somewhat suddenly into the room. It was 
 reflected from three or four rows of bright pewter 
 plates and white earthenware, arranged on shelves 
 against the wall; it also gave brilliancy to a few 
 prints of sacred subjects that hung there also, and 
 served for monitors of the birth, baptism, cruci- 
 fixion, and resurrection of Christ. 
 
 A large map of Jerusalem, and a hieroglyphic 
 of the "old and new man," completed the deco- 
 rations on that side of the room. Clean as was 
 the whitewashed wall, it was not cleaner than the 
 rest of the place and its furniture. Seldom had 
 the sun enlightened a house where order and gene- 
 ral neatness (those sure attendants of pious poverty) 
 were more conspicuous. 
 
 This gleam of setting sunshine was emblematical 
 of the bright and serene close of this young Chris- 
 
 12«
 
 138 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 tian's departing season. One ray happened to be 
 reflected from a little looking-glass upon her face. 
 Amidst her pallid and decaying features there ap- 
 peared a calm resignation, triumphant confidence, 
 unaffected humility, and tender anxiety, which 
 fully declared the feelings of her heart. 
 
 Some further affectionate conversation, and a 
 short prayer, closed this interview. 
 
 As I rode home by departing daylight, a solemn 
 tranquillity reigned throughout the scene. The 
 gentle lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheep just 
 penned in their folds, the humming of the insects 
 of the night, the distant murmurs of the sea, the 
 last notes of the birds of day, and the first warb- 
 lings of the nightingale, broke upon the ear, and 
 served rather to increase than lessen the peaceful 
 serenity of the evening and its corresponding effects 
 on my mind. It invited and cherished just such 
 meditations as my visit had already inspired. 
 Natural scenery, when viewed in a Christian mir- 
 ror, frequently affords very beautiful illustration? 
 of divine truths. We are highly favoured when 
 we can enjoy them, and at the same time draw 
 near to God in them.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 139 
 
 PART vn. 
 
 It is a pleasing consideration, that amidst the 
 f^piritual darkness which unhappily prevails in 
 many parts of the land, Grod nevertheless has a 
 people. It not unfrequently happens that single 
 individuals are to be found, who, though very dis- 
 advantageously situated with regard to the ordi- 
 nary means of grace, have received truly saving 
 impressions, and, through a blessing on secret 
 meditation, reading, and prayer, are led to the 
 closest communion with Grod, and become emi- 
 nently devoted Christians. It is the no small 
 error of too many professors of the present day, to 
 overlook or undervalue the instances of this kind 
 which exist. The religious profession and opin- 
 ions of some have too much of mere machinery in 
 their composition. If every wheel, pivot, chain, 
 spring, cog, or pinion, be not exactly in its place, 
 or move not precisely according to a favourite and 
 prescribed system, the whole is rejected as un- 
 worthy of regard. But happily the Lord knoweth 
 them that are his;" nor is the impression of his 
 own seal wanting to characterize some, who, in 
 comparative seclusion from the religious world, 
 ''name the name of Christ, and depart from ini- 
 quity."
 
 140 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 There are some real Christians so peculiarly 
 circumstanced in this respect, as to illustrate the 
 poet's beautiful comparison, 
 
 "Full many a gem of purest ray serene 
 The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear: 
 
 Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 And waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 
 Yet this was not altogether the case with the 
 dairyman's daughter. Her religion had indeed 
 ripened in seclusion from the world, and she was 
 intimately known but to few; but she lived use- 
 fully, departed most happily, and left a shining 
 track behind her. While I attempt a faint delinea- 
 tion of it, may I catch its influence, and become, 
 through inexpressible mercy, a follower of " them 
 who through faith and patience inherit the pro- 
 mises !" 
 
 From the time wherein I visited her, as de- 
 scribed in a former part, I considered her end as 
 fast approaching. One day I received a hasty 
 summons to inform me that she was dying. It 
 was brought by a soldier, whose countenance be- 
 spoke seriousness, good sense, and piety. 
 
 "I am sent, sir, by the father and mother of 
 Elizabeth Wallbridge, at her own particular re- 
 quest, to say, how much they all wish to see you. 
 She is going home, sir, very fast indeed." 
 
 " Have you known her long ?" I replied.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 141 
 
 "About a month, sir: I love to visit the sick; 
 and hearing of her case from a person who lives 
 close by our camp, I went to see her. I bless God 
 that ever I did go. Her conversation has been 
 very profitable to me." 
 
 "I rejoice," said I, "to see in you, as I trust, 
 a brother soldier. Though we differ in our out^ 
 ward regimentals, I hope we serve under the same 
 spiritual Captain. I will go with you." 
 
 My horse was soon ready. My military com- 
 panion walked by my side, and gratified me with 
 very sensible and pious conversation. He related 
 pome remarkable testimonies of the esceilent dis- 
 position of the dairyman's daughter, as they ap- 
 peared from recent intercourse which he had had 
 with her. ' 
 
 "She is a bright diamond, sir," said the soldier, 
 "and will soon shine brighter than any diamond 
 upon earth." 
 
 We passed through lanes and fields, over hills 
 and valleys, by open and retired paths, sometimes 
 crossing over, and sometimes following the wind- 
 ings of a little brook, which gently murmured by 
 the roadside. Conversation beguiled the distance 
 and shortened the apparent time of our journey, 
 till we were nearly arrived at the dairyman's cot- 
 tage. 
 
 As we approached it, we became silent. Thoughts
 
 142 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 of deatli, eternity, and salvation, inspired by the 
 sight of a house where a dying believer lay, filled 
 my own mind, and I doubt not that of my com- 
 panion also. 
 
 No living object yet appeared except the dairy- 
 man's dog, keeping a kind of mute watch at the 
 door; for he did not, as formerly, bark at my ap- 
 proach. He seemed to partake so far of the feel- 
 ings appropriate to the circumstances of the family, 
 as not to wish to give a hasty or painful alarm. 
 He came forward to the little wicket-gate, and 
 then looked back at the house-door, as if conscious 
 there was sorrow within. It was as if he wanted 
 to say, " Tread softly over the threshold, as you 
 enter the house of mourning; for my master's 
 heart is full of grief." 
 
 The soldier took my horse, and tied it up in a 
 shed. A solemn serenity appeared to surround 
 the whole place : it was only interrupted by the 
 breezes passing through the large elm-trees, which 
 stood near the house, and which my imagination 
 indulged itself in thinking were plaintive sighs 
 of sorrow. I gently opened the door; no one 
 appeared, and all was still silent. The soldier 
 followed; we came to -the foot of the stairs. 
 
 " They are come," said a voice, which I knew 
 to be the father's : " they are come." 
 
 He appeared at the top ; I gave him my hand
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 143 
 
 and said nothing. On entering the room above, 
 I saw the aged mother and her sou supporting the 
 much-loved daughter and sister : the son's wife 
 sat weeping in a window-seat, with a child on her 
 lap ', two or three persons attended in the room to 
 discharge any office which friendship or necessity 
 might require. 
 
 I sat down by the bed-side. The mother could 
 not weep, but now and then sighed deeply as she 
 alternately looked at Elizabeth and me. The big 
 tear rolled down the brother's cheek, and testified 
 an affectionate regard. The good old man stood 
 at the foot of the bed, leaning upon a post, and 
 unable to take his eyes off the child from whom 
 he was so soon to part. 
 
 Elizabeth's eyes were closed, and as yet she per- 
 ceived me not. But over the face, though pale, 
 sunk, and hollow, the peace of God, which passeth 
 all understanding, had cast a triumphant calm. 
 
 The soldier, after a short pause, silently reached 
 out his Bible toward me, pointing with his finger 
 at 1 Cor. XV. 55, 56, 58. I then broke silence 
 by reading the passage, " death, where is thy 
 sting ? grave, where is thy victory ? The sting 
 of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. 
 But thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 At the sound of these words, her eyes opened,
 
 144 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 and something like a ray of divine light beamed 
 on her countenance, as she said, " Victory, vic- 
 tory !" through our Lord Jesus Christ." 
 
 She relapsed again, taking no further notice of 
 any one present. 
 
 " God be praised for the triumph of faith !" 
 said I. 
 
 " Amen !" replied the soldier. 
 
 The dairyman's uplifted eye showed that tho 
 amen was in his heart, though his tongue failed 
 to utter it. 
 
 A short struggling for breath took place in the 
 dying young woman, which was soon over; and 
 then I said to her, 
 
 '' My dear friend, do you not feel that you are 
 supported ?" 
 
 " The Lord deals very gently with me," she 
 replied. 
 
 "Are not his promises now very precious to 
 you?" 
 
 " They are all yea and amen in Christ Jesus." 
 
 " Are you in much bodily pain V 
 
 " So little that I almost forget it." 
 
 " How good the Lord is I" 
 
 " And how unworthy am I !" 
 
 " You are going to see him as he is." 
 
 " I think — I hope — I believe that I am." She 
 again fell into a short slumber.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 145 
 
 Looking at her mother, I said, " What a mercy 
 to have a child so near heaven as yours is !" 
 
 " And what a mercy," she replied, in broken 
 accents, " if her poor old mother might but follow 
 her there ! But, sir, it is so hard to part !" 
 
 " I hope through grace by faith you will soon 
 meet to part no more : it will be but a little 
 while." 
 
 " Sir," said the dairyman, " that thought sup- 
 ports me, and the Lord's goodness makes me feel 
 more reconciled than I was." 
 
 " Father — mother," — said the reviving; dauo-h- 
 
 ' DO 
 
 ter, "he is good to me — trust him, praise him 
 evermore." 
 
 "Sir," added she, in a faint voice, "I want to 
 thank you for your kindness to me — I want to ask 
 a favour ; — you buried my sister — will you do the 
 same for me ?" 
 
 "All shall be as you wish, if God permit," I 
 replied. 
 
 "Thank you, sir, thank you; — I have another 
 favour to ask — when I am gone, remember my 
 father and mother. They are old, but I hope the 
 good work is begun in their souls — 3Iy prayers 
 are heard — Pray come and see them — I cannot 
 speak much, but I want to speak for their sakes — 
 Sir, remember them." 
 
 The aged parents now sighed and sobbed aloud,
 
 146 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 uttering broken sentences, and gained some relief 
 by such an expression of their feelings. 
 
 At length I said to Elizabeth, "Do you expe-- 
 rience any doubts or temptations on the subject of 
 your eternal safety T' 
 
 " No, sir : the Lord deals very gently with me, 
 and gives me peace." 
 
 "What are your views of the dark valley of 
 death, now that you are passing through it ?" 
 
 "It is Mo^dark." 
 
 "Why so?" 
 
 " My Lord is there, and he is my light and my 
 salvation." 
 
 "Have you any fears of more bodily suffering?" 
 
 "The Lord deals so gently with me; I can trust 
 him." 
 
 Something of a convulsion came on. When it 
 was past, she said again and again, 
 
 " The Lord deals very gently with me. Lord, 
 I am thine, save me — Blessed Jesus — precious 
 Saviour — His blood cleanseth from all sin — Who 
 shall separate ? — His name is Wonderful — Thanks 
 be to God — He giveth us the victory — I, even I, 
 am saved — grace, mercy, and wonder — Lord, 
 receive my spirit ! Dear sir — dear father, mother, 
 friends, I am going — but all is well, well, well — " 
 
 She relapsed again — we knelt down to prayer — 
 the Lord was in the midst of us, and blessed us.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 147 
 
 She did not again revive while I remained, nor 
 ever speak any more words which could be under- 
 stood. She slumbered for about ten hours, and 
 at last sweetly fell asleep in the arms of that Lord 
 who had dealt so gently with her. 
 
 I left the house an hour after she had ceased to 
 speak. I pressed her hand as I was taking leave, 
 and said, '' Christ is the resurrection and the life." 
 She gently returned the pressure, but could neither 
 open her eyes nor utter a reply. 
 
 I never had witnessed a scene so impressive as 
 this before. It completely filled my imagination 
 as I returned home. 
 
 "Farewell," thought I, "dear friend, till the 
 morning of an eternal day shall renew our personal 
 intercourse. Thou wast a brand plucked from the 
 burning, that thou mightest become a star shining 
 in the firmament of glory. I have seen thy light 
 and thy good works, and will therefore glorify our 
 Father which is in heaven. I have seen in thy 
 example, what it is to be a sinner freely saved by 
 grace. I have learned from thee, as in a living 
 mirror, who it is that begins, continues, and ends 
 the work of faith and love. Jesus is all in all : 
 he will and shall be glorified. He won the crown, 
 and alone deserves to wear it. May no one attempt 
 to rob him of his glory ! He saves, and saves to 
 the uttermost. Farewell, dear sister in the Lord,
 
 148 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 Thy flesh and thy heart may fail ; but God is the 
 strength of thy heart, and shall be thy portion fojr 
 ever." 
 
 PART VIII. 
 
 Who can conceive or estimate the nature of 
 that change which the soul of a believer must 
 experience at the moment when, quitting its taber- 
 nacle of clay, it suddenly enters into the presence 
 of God ? If, even while " we see through a glass 
 darkly," the views of divine love and wisdom are 
 so delightful to the eye of faith; what must be 
 the glorious vision of God, when seen face to face ? 
 If it be so valued a privilege here on earth to 
 enjoy the communion of saints, and to take sweet 
 counsel together with our fellow-travellers toward 
 the heavenly kingdom; what shall we see and 
 know when we finally "come unto Mount Zion, 
 and unto the city of the living God, the heavenly 
 Jerusalem, and to an innumerable company of 
 angels, to the general assembly and church of the 
 first-born which arc written in heaven, and to God 
 the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just men 
 made perfect, and to Jesus the Mediator of the 
 new covenant ?" 
 
 If, during the sighs and tears of a mortal pil-
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 149 
 
 grimage, the consolations of the Spirit are so pre- 
 cious, and the hope of full immortality is so animat- 
 ing to the soul J what heart can conceive, or what 
 tongue utter its superior joys, when arrived at 
 that state where sighing and sorrow flee away, and 
 the tears shall be wiped from every eye ? 
 
 Such ideas were powerfully associated together 
 in my imagination, as I travelled onward to the 
 hoiise, where, in solemn preparation for the grave, 
 lay the remains of the dairyman's daughter. 
 
 She had breathed her last shortly after the visit 
 related in my former account. Permission was 
 obtained, as before in the case of her sister, that 
 I should perform the funeral ser\'ice. Many 
 pleasing yet melancholy thoughts were connected 
 with the fulfilment of this task. I retraced the 
 numerous and important conversations which I 
 had held with her. But these could now no longer 
 be maintained on earth. I reflected on the in- 
 teresting and improving nature of Christian friend- 
 ships, whether formed in palaces or in cottages; 
 and felt thankful that I had so long enjoyed that 
 privilege with the subject of this memorial. I then 
 indulged a selfish sigh for a moment, on thinking 
 that I could no longer hear the great truths of 
 Christianity uttered by one who had drunk so deep 
 of the waters of the river of life. But the rising 
 murmur was checked by the animating thought : 
 
 13*
 
 150 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER, 
 
 " She is gone to eternal rest — could I wish her 
 back again in this vale of tears ?" 
 
 At that moment the first sound of a tolling bell 
 struck my ear. It proceeded from a village church 
 in the valley directly beneath the ridge of a high 
 hill, over which I had taken my way. It was 
 Elizabeth's funeral knell. 
 
 The sound was solemn; and in ascending to the 
 elevated spot over which I rode, it acquired a 
 peculiar tone and character. Tolling at slow and 
 regulated intervals, (as was customary for a con- 
 siderable time previous to the hour of burial,) the 
 bell, as it were, proclaimed the blessedness of the 
 dead who die in the Lord, and also the necessity 
 of the living pondering these things, and laying 
 them to heart. It seemed to say, " Hear my warn- 
 ing voice, thou son of man. There is but a step 
 between thee and death. Arise, prepare thine 
 house, for thou shalt die, and not live." 
 
 The scenery was in unison with that tranquil 
 frame of mind which is most suitable for holy 
 meditation. A rich and fruitful valley lay imme- 
 diately beneath: it was adorned with corn-fields 
 and pastures, through which a small river wound 
 in a variety of directions, and many herds grazed 
 upon its banks. A fine range of opposite hills, 
 covered with grazing flocks, terminated with a bold 
 sweep into the ocean, whose blue waves appeared
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 151 
 
 at a distance beyond. Several villages, hamlets, 
 and churches, were scattered in the valley. The 
 noble mansions of the rich, and the lowly cottages 
 of the poor, added their respective features to the 
 landscape. The air was mild, and the declining 
 sun occasioned a beautiful interchange of light and 
 shade upon the sides of the hills. In the midst 
 of this scene, the chief sound that arrested atten- 
 tion was the bell tolling for the funeral of the 
 dairyman's daughter. 
 
 Do any of my readers inquire why I describe 
 so minutely the circumstances of prospect scenery 
 which may be connected with the incidents I re- 
 late ? My reply is, that the God of redemption 
 is the Grod of creation likewise ; and that we are 
 taught in every part of the word of God to unite 
 the admiration of the beauties and wonders of 
 nature to every other motive for devotion. When 
 David considered the heavens, the work of God's 
 fingers, the moon and the stars, which he has or- 
 dained, he was thereby led to the deepest humilia- 
 tion of heart before his Maker. And when he 
 viewed the sheep and the oxen, and the beasts of 
 the field, the fowl of the air and the fish of the 
 sea, he was constrained to cry out, " Lord, our 
 Lord ; how excellent is thy name in all the earth I" 
 
 I am the poor man's friend, and wish more es- 
 pecially that every poor labouring man should
 
 152 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 know how to connect the goodness of God in 
 creation and providence with the unsearchalale 
 riches of his grace in the salvation of a sinner. 
 And where can he learn this lesson more in- 
 structively than in looking around the fields where 
 his labour is appointed, and there tracing the 
 handy-work of Grod in all that he beholds ? Such 
 meditations have often afforded me both profit and 
 pleasure, and I wish my readers to share them 
 with me. 
 
 The dairyman's cottage was rather more than a 
 mile distant from the church. A lane, quite over- 
 shaded with trees and high hedges, led from the 
 foot of the hill to his dwelling. It was impossible 
 at that time to overlook the suitable gloom of 
 such an approach to the house of mourning. 
 
 I found, on my entrance, that several Christian 
 friends, from different parts of the neighbourhood, 
 had assembled together, to pay their last tribute 
 of esteem and regard to the memory of the dairy- 
 man's daughter. Several of them had first be- 
 come acquainted with her during the latter stage 
 of her illness ; some few had maintained an affec- 
 tionate intercourse with her for a longer period. 
 But all seemed anxious to manifest their respect 
 for one who was endeared to them by such striking 
 testimonies of true Christianity. 
 
 I was requested to go into the chamber where
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 153 
 
 the relatives and a few other ft'iends were gone to 
 take a last look at the remains of Elizabeth. 
 
 It is not easy to describe the sensation which 
 the mind experiences on the first sight of a dead 
 countenance, which, when living, was loved and 
 esteemed for the sake of that soul which used to 
 give it animation. A deep and awful view of the 
 separation that has taken place between the soul 
 and body of the deceased, since we last beheld 
 them, occupies the feelings; our friend seems to 
 be both near, and yet far off. The most interest- 
 ing and valuable part has fled away; what remains 
 is but the earthly perishing habitation, no longer 
 occupied by its tenant. Yet the features present 
 the accustomed association of friendly intercourse. 
 For one moment, we could think them asleep. 
 The next reminds us that the blood circulates no 
 more ; the eye has lost its power of seeing, the 
 ear of hearing, the heart of throbbing, and the 
 limbs of moving. Quickly, a thought of glory 
 breaks in upon the mind, and we imagine the 
 dear departed soul to be arrived at its long-wished- 
 for rest. It is surrounded by cherubim and se- 
 raphim, and sings the song of 3Ioses and the 
 Lamb on Mount Zion. Amid the solemn stillness 
 of the chamber of death, imagination hears hea- 
 venly hymns chanted by the spirits of just men 
 made perfect. In another moment the livid lips
 
 154 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 and sunken eye of the clay-cold corpse recall our 
 thoughts to earth, and to ourselves again. And 
 while we think of mortality, sin, death, and the 
 grave, we feel the prayer rise in our bosom, " O 
 let me die the death of the righteous, and let my 
 last end be like his I" 
 
 If there be a moment when Christ and salva- 
 tion, death, judgment, heaven, and hell, appear 
 more than ever to be momentous subjects of 
 meditation, it is that which brings us to the side 
 of a coffin containing the body of a departed be- 
 liever. 
 
 Elizabeth's features were altered, but much of 
 her likeness remained. Her father and mother 
 sat at the head, her brother at the foot of the 
 coffin. The father silently and alternately looked 
 upon his dear child, and then lifted up his eyes to 
 heaven. A struggle for resignation to the will of 
 Grod was manifest in his countenance ; while the 
 tears rolling down his aged cheeks, at the same 
 time declared his grief and affection. The poor 
 mother cried and sobbed aloud, and appeared to 
 be much overcome by the shock of separation from 
 a daughter so justly dear to her. The weakness 
 and infirmity of old age added a character to her 
 sorrow, which called for much tenderness and 
 compassion. 
 
 A remarkably decent-looking woman, who had
 
 THE D^ilRYJMAN's DAUGHTEK. 155 
 
 the management of the few simple though solemn 
 ceremonies which the case required; advanced 
 toward me, saying, 
 
 "Sir, this is rather a sight of joy than of sor- 
 row. Our dear friend Elizabeth finds it to be so, 
 I have no doubt. She is beyond all sorrow: do 
 you not think she is, sir?" 
 
 "After what I have known, and seen, and 
 heard," I replied, "I feel the fullest assurance, 
 that, while her body remains here, her soul is with 
 her Saviour in paradise. She loved him here, and 
 tliere she enjoys the pleasures which are at his 
 right hand for evermore." 
 
 "Mercy, mercy upon a poor old creature almost 
 broken down with age and grief! — What shall I 
 do? — Betsey's gone. My daughter's dead. — 
 my child ! I shall never see thee more. — God be 
 merciful to me, a sinner !" sobbed out the poor 
 mother. 
 
 "That last prayer, my dear good woman," said 
 I, " will bring you and your child together again. 
 It is a cry that has brought thousands to glory. 
 It brought your daughter there, and I hope it 
 will bring you thither likewise. Grod will in no 
 wise cast out any that come to him." 
 
 " My dear," said the dairyman, breaking the 
 long silence he had maintained, "let us trust God 
 with our child ; and let us trust him with our own-
 
 156 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 
 
 selves. ' The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken 
 away ; blessed be the name of the Lord !' We 
 are old, and can have but a little further to travel 
 
 in our journey, and then " He could say 
 
 no more. 
 
 The soldier mentioned before, reached a Bible 
 into my hand, and said, " Perhaps, sir, you would 
 not object to reading a chapter before we go to the 
 church V 
 
 I did so ; it was the fourteenth of the book of 
 Job. A sweet tranquillity prevailed while I read 
 it. Each minute that was spent in this funeral 
 chamber seemed to be valuable. I made a few 
 observations on the chapter, and connected them 
 with the case of our departed sister, 
 
 " I am but a poor soldier," said our military 
 friend, " and have nothing of this world's goods 
 beyond my daily subsistence ; but I would not 
 exchange my hope of salvation in the next world 
 for all that this world could bestow without it. 
 What is wealth without grace ? Blessed be God ! 
 as I march about from one quarters to another, I 
 still find the Lord wherever I go ; and thanks be 
 to his holy name, he is here to-day in the midst 
 of this company of the living and the dead. I 
 feel that it is good to be here." 
 
 Some other persons present began to take a 
 part in our conversation, in Jhc course of which
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 157 
 
 the life and experience of the dairyman's daughter 
 were brought forward in a very interesting manner. 
 Each friend had something to relate in testimony 
 of her gracious disposition. A young woman, 
 under twenty, who had hitherto been a light and 
 trifling character, appeared to be remarkably im- 
 pressed by the conversation of that day ; and I 
 have since had ground to believe that divine grace 
 then began to influence her in the choice of that 
 better part which shall not be taken from her. 
 
 What a contrast does such a scene as this ex- 
 hibit, when compared with the dull, formal, un- 
 edifying, and often indecent manner, in which 
 funeral parties assemble in the house of death. 
 
 As we conversed, the parents revived. Our 
 subject of discourse was delightful to their hearts. 
 Their chUd seemed almost to be alive again, while 
 we talked of her. Tearful smiles often brightened 
 their countenances, as they heard the voice of 
 friendship uttering their daughter's praises; or 
 rather the praises of Him who had made her a 
 vessel of mercy, and an instrument of spiritual 
 good to her family. 
 
 The time for departing to the church was now 
 at hand. 
 
 I went to take my last look at the deceased. 
 
 There was much written on her countenance. 
 She had evidently died with a smile, It stiU rc»
 
 158 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 mained, and spoke the tranquillity of her depart- 
 ed soul. According to the custom of the country, 
 she was decorated with leaves and flowers in the 
 cofiin : she seemed as a bride gone forth to meet 
 the bridegroom . These indeed were fading flowers^ 
 but they reminded me of that paradise whose 
 flowers are immortal, and where her never-dying 
 soul is at rest. 
 
 I remembered the last words which I had 
 heard her speak, and was instantly struck with 
 the happy thought, that "death was indeed swal- 
 lowed up in victory." 
 
 As I slowly retired, I said inwardly, " Peace, 
 my honoured sister, be to thy memory and to my 
 soul, till we meet in a better world." 
 
 In a little time the procession formed : it was 
 rendered the more interesting by the consideration 
 of so many that followed the cofiin being persons 
 of a devoted and spiritual character. The distance 
 was rather more than a mile. I resolved to con- 
 tinue with and go before them, as they moved 
 slowly onward. 
 
 Immediately after the body came the venerable 
 father and mother,* bending with age, and weep- 
 
 * The mother died not long after her daughter, and 
 I have good reason to believe, that God was merciful 
 to her, and took her to himself. The good old dairy- 
 man died in 1816, at the age of eighty-four. His end 
 was eminently Christian.
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 159 
 
 ing through much affection of heart. Their ap- 
 pearance was calcuhited to excite every emotion 
 of pity, lovC; and esteem. The other relatives 
 followed them in order, and the several attendant 
 friends took their places behind. 
 
 After we had advanced about a hundred yards, 
 my meditation was unexpectedly and most agree- 
 ably interrupted by the friends who attended be- 
 ginning to sing a funeral psalm. Nothing could 
 be more sweet or solemn. The well-known effect 
 of the open air in softening and blending the 
 sounds of music was here peculiarly felt. The 
 road through which we passed was beautiful and 
 romantic. It lay at the foot of a hill, which oc- 
 casionally re-echoed the voices of the singers, and 
 seemed to give faint replies to the notes of the 
 mourners. The funeral knell was distinctly heard 
 from the church-tower, aijd greatly increased the 
 effect which this simple and becoming service pro- 
 duced. 
 
 We went by several cottages : a respectful at- 
 tention was universally observed as we passed : and 
 the countenances of many proclaimed their regard 
 for the departed young woman. The singing was 
 regularly continued, with occasional intervals of 
 about five minutes, during our whole progress. 
 
 I cannot describe the state of my own mind as 
 peculiarly connected with this solemn singing. I
 
 160 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 
 
 was reminded of elder times ^nd ancient piety. 
 I wished the practice more frequent. It seems 
 well calculated to excite and cherish devotion and 
 religious affections. 
 
 Music, when judiciously brought into the ser- 
 vice of religion, is one of the most delightful, and 
 not least efficacious means of grace. I pretend 
 not too minutely to conjecture as to the actual 
 nature of those pleasures which, after the resur- 
 rection, the re-united body and soul will enjoy in 
 heaven; but I can hardly persuade myself that 
 melody and harmony will be wanting, when even 
 the sense of hearing shall itself be glorified. 
 
 We at length arrived at the church. Looking 
 upward as I drew near the porch, I observed a 
 dial on the wall. The sun's declining rays di- 
 rected the shadow to the evening hour. As I 
 passed underneath this pimple but solemn monir 
 tor, I was reminded of the lapse of time, the un- 
 certainty of life, and sure approach of eternity. 
 
 I thought with David, " We are strangers be- 
 fore thee and sojourners, as were all our fathers; 
 our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is 
 none abiding." "Lord, so teach us to number 
 our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wis- 
 dom." 
 
 The service was heard with deep and affectionate 
 attention. When we came to the grave, the hymn
 
 THE dairyman's DAUGHTER. 161 
 
 which Elizabeth had selected was sung. All was 
 devout, simple, animating. We committed our 
 dear sister's body to the earth, in full hope of 
 a joyful resurrection from the dead. 
 
 Thus was the veil of separation drawn for a sea- 
 son. She is departed, and no more seen. But she 
 loill be seen on the right hand of her Eedeemer 
 at the last day ; and will again appear to his glory, 
 a miracle of grace and monument of mercy. 
 
 My reader, rich or poor, shall you and I ap- 
 pear there likewise? Are we "clothed with hu- 
 mility," and arrayed in the wedding-garment of a 
 Kedeemer's righteousness ? Are we turned from 
 idols to serve the living God ? Are we sensible 
 of our own emptiness, and therefore flying to a 
 Saviour's fulness to obtain grace and strength? 
 Do we indeed live in Christ, and on him, and by 
 him, and wl.Ii him ? Is he our all in all? Are 
 we "lost and found ?" " dead and alive again ?" 
 
 My poor reader, the dairyman's daughter was 
 a poor girl, and the child of a poor man. Herein 
 thou resemblest her : but dost thou resemble her 
 as she resembled Christ? Art thou made rich 
 by faith ? Hast thou a crown laid up for thee ? 
 Is thine heart set upon heavenly riches ? If not, 
 read this story once more, and then pray earnestly 
 for like precious faith. 
 
 But if, through grace, thou dost love and serve 
 
 14*
 
 162 THE dairyman's daughter. 
 
 the Redeemer that saved the dairyman's daughter^ 
 grace, peace, and mercy be with thee ! The lines 
 are fallen unto thee in pleasant places : thou hast 
 a goodly heritage. Press forward in duty, and 
 wait upon the Lord, possessing thy soul in holy 
 patience. Thou hast just been with me to the 
 grave of a departed believer. Now " go thy way 
 till the end be ; for thou shalt rest, and stand in 
 thy lot at the end of the days." 
 
 A TRIBUTE of affection has recently been paid 
 to the memory of the dairyman's daughter, by 
 raising a subscription and putting up a grave- 
 stone, on which the following verses are in- 
 scribed : — 
 
 " Stranger ! if e'er by chance or feeling led, 
 Upon this hallow'd turf thy footsteps tread, 
 Turn from the contemplation of the sod, 
 And think on her whose spirit rests with God. 
 Lowly her lot on earth, — but He, who bore 
 Tidings of grace and blessings to the poor. 
 Gave her, his truth and faithfulness to prove, 
 The choicest treasures of his boundless love, — 
 (Faith, that dispell'd affliction's darkest gloom; 
 Hope, that could cheer the passage to the tomb ;) 
 Peace, that not hell's dark legions could destroy ; 
 And love, that fiU'd the soul with heavenly joy. 
 Death of its sting disarm'd, she knew no fear. 
 But tasted heaven e'en while she linger'd here. 
 0, happy saint, — may we like thee be blest ; 
 In life be faithful, and in death find rest I" 
 
 THE END.
 
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