Cfce Hifirarp 

Of tl)f 

Oninetjsitp of JQortf) Carolina 




The Sylvester Hassell Collection 

FROM THE LIBRARY OF 

Sylvester Hassell, D. D. 

CLASS OF '62 

GIVEN BY HIS CHILDREN 



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UNIVERSITY OF 
NORTH CAROLINA 

School • f Library 
Science 



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in 2012 with funding from" 

University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill 



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Dairyman's Daughter. 










ARRETON CHURCH. 



THE 



DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER 



AN AUTHENTIC NARRATIVE. 



BY REV. LEGH RICHMOND, 

LATE RECTOR OF TDRVEY, BEDFORDSHIRE, ENGLAND. 



TAKEN FROM HIS LATEST EDITION. 



PUBLISHED BY THE 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

150 NASSAU STREET, NEW YORK. 



; 



THE 



DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER 



It is a delightful employment to dis- 
cover and trace the operations of divine 
grace, as they are manifested in the dis- 
positions and lives of God's real chil- 
dren. It is peculiarly gratifying to ob- 
serve how frequently, among the poorer 
classes of mankind, the sunshine of mercy 
beams upon the heart, and bears witness 
to the image of Christ which the Spirit 
of God has impressed thereupon. t Among 
such, the sincerity and simplicity of the 
. Christian character appear unencumbered 
v by those obstacles to spirituality of mind 
o- and conversation, which too often prove 



6 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

a great hinderance to those who live in 
the higher ranks. Many are the diffi- 
culties which riches, worldly consequence, 
high connections, and the luxuriant re- 
finements of polished society, throw in 
the way of religious profession. Happy 
indeed it is — and some such happy in- 
stances I know — where grace has so 
strikingly supported its conflict with nat- 
ural pride, self-importance, the allure- 
ments of luxury, ease, and worldly opin- 
ion, 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 re- 
ligion in its most simple and pure char- 
acter, 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 7 

valuable lessons of faith and hope, and 
there witnessed the most striking demon- 
strations of the wisdom, power, and good- 
ness of G-od. 

The 'character which the present nar- 
rative is designed to introduce to the 
notice of my readers, is given from real 
life ami circumstances. I first became 
acquainted with her by receiving the 
following letter, which I transcribe from 
the original now before me. 

"&ev. 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 
warn sinners to flee from the wrath that 
will be 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 labor 



8 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 
wandering 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 experience the divine 
change of being made new creatures in 
Christ. 

"Sir, be fervent in prayer with God 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 9 

for the conversion of sinners. His power 
is great, and who can withstand it? He 
has promised to answer the prayer of 
faith, that is put np 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 the Spirit how to pray! Oh, that 
sweet inspiring hope ; how it lifts up the 
fainting spirits, when we look over the 
precious promises of God ! What a mer- 
cy 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. 7 
Men shall be daily fed with the manna 



10 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

of his love, and delight themselves in 
the Lord all tiie day long. Then what 
a paradise below they will enjoy. How 
it animates and enlivens my soul with 
vigor 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, liv- 
ing 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 con- 
vinced 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 that she is now join- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 11 

ing in sweet concert with the angelic 
host in heaven to sing the wonders of 
redeeming 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 sin- 
ners in the ways of God, you will bear 
with me, and be so kind to answer this 
ill-wrote letter, and give me* some in- 



12 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

struction. 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, can- 
not come. She will lie at — i — . She 
died on Tuesday morning, and will be 
buried on Friday or Saturday, which- 
ever is most convenient to you, at three 
o'clock in the afternoon. » Please to send 
an answer by the bearer, to let me know 
whether you can comply with this re- 
quest. 

"From your unworthy servant, 

" ELIZABETH W ." 

I was much struck with the simple and 
earnest strain of devotion which this let- 
ter breathed. It was but indifferently 
written and spelt. But this the rather 
tended to 'endear the hitherto unknown 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER, 13 

writer, as it seemed characteristic of the 
union of humbleness of station with emi- 
nence of piety. I felt quite thankful 
that I was favored with a correspondent 
of this description ; the more so, as such 
characters were at that time very rare 
in the neighborhood. I have often wished 
that epistolary intercourse of this kind 
were more encouraged and practised 
among us. I have the greatest reason 
to speak well of its effect 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 conduct of the ministerial office. 

As soon as the letter was read, I in- 
quired who was the bearer of it. 

"He is waiting at the outside of the 
gate, sir," was the reply. 



14 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

I went out to speak to- him, and saw a 
venerable old man, whose long hoary 
hair and deeply wrinkled countenance 
commanded more than common 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 minister 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 15 

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 , six miles from 

here. I have rented a few acres of 
ground, and kept some cows, which, in 
addition to my day-labor, has been the 
means of supporting and bringing up my 
family." 

"What family have you?" 

"A wife, now getting very aged and 
helpless, two sons, and one daughter; 
for my other poor dear child is just de- 
parted out of this wicked world." 

"I hope, for a better." 

"I hope so too: poor thing, she did 
not use to take to such good ways as her 



16 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

sister ; but I do believe that her sister's 
manner of talking with her before she 
died was the means of saving 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 me to flee from the wrath to 
come.' 7 

"How old are you?" 

"Near seventy, and my wife is older; 
we are getting old and almost past our 
labor, 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, affectionate girl she is." 

"Was she alwavs so?" 

"No, sir; when she was very young, 
she was all for the world and pleasure, 
and dress and company. Indeed, we 
were all very ignorant, and thought if 
we took care for this life, and wronged 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 17 

nobody, we should be sure to go to heav- 
en at last, My daughters were both 
wilful, and, like ourselves, strangers to 
the ways of God and the word of his 
grace. But the eldest of them went out 
to service, and some yea^ 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 afterwards 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 had shown such meiScy to her. 

2 



18 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

"We wondered to hear her talk, and 
took great delight in her company ; for 
her temper and behavior were so hum- 
ble and kind, she seemed so desirous to 
do us good both in soul and body, and 
was so different from what we had ever 
seen her before, that, careless and igno- 
rant 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 faugh and ridicule her at that time, 
and said her head was turned with her 
new ways. 'No, sister/ she would say, 
'not my head, but I hope my heart is 
turned from the love of sin to the love 
of God. I wish you may one day see, 
as I do, the danger and vanity of your 
present condition.' 

"Her poor sister would reply, 'I do 
not want to hear any of your preaching ; 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 19 

I am no worse than other people, and 
that is enough for me.' *Wdl, 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 pray- 
ers are answered. For when her sister 
was taken ill, Elizabeth went to Mrs. 

'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 be- 
gan to be so deeply affected and sensi- 
ble of her past sin, and so thankful for 
her sister's kind behavior, 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 of 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 



20 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

sinfulness, felt her own helplessness, and 
only wished to cast herself upon Christ 
as her hope and salvation. 

, " And now, sir, she is gone, and I hope 
and think her sister's prayers for her 
conversion to God have been answered. 
The Lord grant the same for her poor 
father and mother's sake likewise." 

This conversation was a very pleasing 
commentary 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 promised 
the good dairyman to attend on the Fri- 
day at the appointed hour ; and after 
some more conversation respecting his 
own state of mind under the present 
trial, he went away. 

He was a reverend old man ; his fur- 
rowed cheeks, white locks, weeping eyes, 
bent shoulders, and feeble gait, were 
characteristic of the aged pilgrim. As he 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 21 

slowly walked onwards, 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 par- 
ents, the elder brother, and the sister, 
with other relatives, formed an affecting 
group. I was struck with the humble, 
pious, and pleasing countenance of the 
young woman from whom I had received 
the letter. It bore the marks of great 
seriousness without affectation, and of 
much serenity mingled with a glow of 
devotion. 

A circumstance occurred during the 
reading of the burial-service, which I 
think it right to mention, as one among 
many testimonies of the solemn* and im- 



22 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

pressive tendency of our truly evangeli- 
cal Liturgy.* 

A man of the village who had hither- 
to been of a very careless and even prof- 
ligate character, went into the church 
through mere curiosity, and with no bet- 
ter, purpose than that of vacantly gazing 
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 receiv- 
ed a deep, serious conviction of his sin 
and spiritual danger. It was an impres- 
sion that never wore off, but gradually 
ripened into the most satisfactory evi- 
dence of an entire change, of which I 
had many and long-continued proofs. 
He always referred to the burial-ser- 
vice, and to some particular sentences 

* The Publishing Committee in issuing this 
narrative entire would express no opinion as to 
the use of a Liturgy. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 23 

of it, as the clearly ascertained instru- 
ment of bringing hini, through grace, to 
the knowledge of the truth. 

The day was therefore one to be re- 
membered. Eemembered 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 
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 scoff, let us adore." 

After the service was concluded, I 
had a short conversation with the good 
old couple and their daughter. She told 
me that she intended to remain a week 
or two at. the gentleman's house where 



24 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 farthest. I shall be 
glad to talk to you about my sister, whom 
you have just buried." 

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.pray- 
ed that the poor might become rich in 
faith, and the rich be made poor 114 
spirit. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 25 



PART II. 

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 re- 
membrance of former scenes and conver- 
sations with those who, we Relieve, are 
now enjoying the interrupted 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 re- 
vealed in the assembling of all his chil- 
dren together, never more to be sepa- 
rated. 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 



26 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

priests unto God ;" and this is their true 
nobility. In the number of now de- 
parted 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 hill. It was em- 
bowered in fine woods, which were in- 
terspersed in every direction with ris- 
ing, falling, and swelling grounds. The 
manor-house had evidently descended 
through a long line of ancestry, from a 
distant period of time. The Gothic char- 
acter of its original architecture was still 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 27 




preserved in the latticed windows, adorn- 
ed with carved divisions and pillars of 
stone- work. Several pointed termina- 



28 THE DAIRYMAN'S'DAUGHTER. 

tions also, in the construction of the roof, 
according to the custom of our forefa- 
thers, fully corresponded with the general 
features of the building. 

One end of the house was entirely 
clothed with the- thick foliage of an im- 
mense ivy, which climbed beyond cus- 
tomary limits, and embraced a lofty chim- 
ney up to its very summit. Such a tree 
seemed congenial to the walls that sup- 
ported it, and conspired with the antique 
fashion of the place to carry imagination 
back to the days of our ancestors. 

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 disappearing, 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 handbreadth; and 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 29 

mine age is as nothing before thee ; ver- 
ily every man at his best state is alto- 
gether vanity. Surely every man walk- 
eth in a vain show; surely they are dis- 
quieted 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 un- 
certainty 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 honor 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 grave ; death 
shall feed on them; and their beauty 
shall consume in the grave from their 
dwelling." 



30 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 



* 



As I advanced to the mansion, a pleas- 
ing 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 recently visited the 
house, and that one of its present inhab- 
itants was an affectionate mourner for a 
departed sister. 

There is a solennity in the thought of 
a recent 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 conversa- 
tion 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 3L 

and conduct in the house, I then took 
leave, requesting permission to see her, 
agreeably to the promise I had made at 
the funeral not many days before. 

I was shown into a parlor, where I 
found her alone. She was in deep mourn- 
ing. She had a calmness and serenity 
in her countenance which exceedingly 
struck me, and impressed some idea of 
those attainments which a further ac- 
quaintance with her afterwards 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 ear- 
nest exhortations of Elizabeth had been 
blessed to a happy effect. She described 
what had passed with such a mixture of 
sisterly affection and pious dependence 
on the mercy of God to sinners, as con- 
vinced me that her own heart was under 



32 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

the influence of "pure religion and un- 
dented." 

f She requested leave occasionally to 
correspond with me on serious subjects, 
stating that she needed much instruction. 
She hoped I would pardon the liberty 
which she had taken by introducing her- 
self to my notice. She expressed a trust 
that the Lord would overrule both the 
death of her. sister, 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 expected 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 33 

that you have condescended to leave the 
company of the rich, 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 quitted the house with no small de- 
gree of satisfaction, in consequence of 
the new acquaintance which I had form- 
ed. I discovered traces of a cultivated 
as well as a spiritual mind. I felt that 
religious intercourse with those of low 
estate may be rendered eminently useful 
to others, whose outward station and ad- 
vantages are far above their own. 

How often does it appear that "God 
3 



34 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 unfrequently my custom, 
when my mind was filled with any inter- 
esting subject for meditation, to seek 
some spot where the beauties of natural 
prospect might help to form pleasing and 
useful associations. I therefore ascended 
gradually 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 pros- 
pect, which was distinguished for beauty 
and magnificence. It was a lofty sta- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 35 

tion, which commanded a complete cir- 
cle of interesting objects to engage the 
spectator's attention. 

Southward the view was terminated 
by a long range of hills, at about six 
miles distance. They met, to the west- 
ward, another chain of hills, of which 
the one whereon I sat formed a link, 
and the whole together nearly encom- 
passed a rich and fruitful valley, filled 
with corn-fields and pastures. Through 
this vale winded a small river for many 
miles: much cattle were feeding on its 
banks. Here and there, lesser eminences 
arose in the valley ; 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 landscape. Another of 
these elevations, t situated in the centre 
of the valley, was adorned with a vener- 



36 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

able 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 harbor. 
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 an- 
cient 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 waves with a glit- 
tering 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 be- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 37 

yond the other ; both covered with sheep, 
and the sea just visible over the farthest 
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, fin- 
ished its course, and ran through mead- 
ows into the sea, in an eastward direction. 
On the north the sea appeared like a 
noble river, varying frdm three to. seven 
miles in breadth, between 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, diversified 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 alter- 
nately caught the observation, and which 



38 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 of the hill on which I sat. 
In many instances the hills were culti- 
vated with corn to their very summits, 
and seemed to defy the inclemency of 
the weather, which at these heights, usu- 
ally renders the ground incapable of 
bringing forth and ripening the crops of 
grain. One hill alone, the highest in 
elevation, and above ten miles to the 
south-westward, was enveloped in a cloud, 
which just permitted a dim and hazy 
sight of a signal-post, a lighthouse, and 
an ancient chantry, built on its summit. 

Amidst these numerous specimens of 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 39 

delightful scenery I found a mount for 
contemplation, and here I indulged 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. But 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 reliev- 
ing "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 before a stranger." 

I looked towards the village in the 
plain below, where the dairyman's youn- 
ger daughter was buried. I retraced the 
simple solemnities of the funeral. I con- 
nected the principles and conduct of her 
sister with the present probably happy 



40 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 wom- 
an," I thought, "has been the conductor 
of not only a sister, but perhaps a father 
and mother also, to the true knowledge 
of God, and may, by divine blessing, be- 
come 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 pilgrims tow- 
ards the heavenly country. May the 
number of such be daily increased." 

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 ignorant 
of the ways of God, and strangers to his 
grace. May this thought stimulate to 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 41 

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 observa- 
tions to that effect recurred to my mind 
as having been made by the young per- 
son with whom I had been just convers- 
ing. Her mind appeared to be much im- 
pressed with the duty of speaking and 
acting for God " while it is day;" con- 
scious that "the night cometh, when no 
man can work." Her laudable anxiety 
on this head was often testified to me 
afterwards, both by letter and conversa- 
tion. What she felt herself, in respect 
to endeavors to do good, she happily 
communicated to others with whom she 
corresponded or converged. 

Time would not permit my continuing 
so long in the enjoyment of these medita- 
tions on this lovely mount of enjoyment, 



42 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

as my heart desired. On my return 
home I wrote a few lines to the dairy- 
man'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. 

"Kev. Sir — I am this day deprived 
of an opportunity of attending the house 
of God, to worship him. . But, glory be 
to his name, he is not confined to time 
or place. I feel him present with me 
where I am, and his presence makes my 
paradise ; 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 labors; and that you 
may find the truth of his word assuring 
us, that wherever we assemble together 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 43 

in his name, there is he in the midst to 
bless every waiting sonl. 

"How precious are ail 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 consoling to 
read your kind letter to-day. I feel 
thankful to God for - ministers in our 
church who love and fear his name; 
there it is where the people 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 long to see the arrows of convic- 
tion fasten on the minds of those that are 



44 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

hearers of the word and not doers. 
sir, be ambitious for the glory of God 
and the salvation of souls. 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 the 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.' 

"It seems wonderful that we should 
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 accord- 
ing 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 45 

there have been opportunities in which 
we have neglected to take up our cross 
and speak and act for God, what a de- 
jection of mind we feel. We are then 
justly filled 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. - and you are 

both of one heart and one mind. Then 
you will sweetly agree in all things that 
make for your present and eternal hap- 
piness. Christ sent his disciples out, not 



40 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

singly, but two and two, that they might 
comfort and help each other in those 
ways and works which their Lord com- 
manded 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 there- 
fore find it such a treat to my soul when 
I can meet with any who loves to talk of 
the goodness and love of God, and all 
his gracious dealings. What a comfort- 
able reflection, to think of spending a 
whole eternity in that delightful employ- 
ment; to tell to listening angels his love 
'immense, unsearchable.' 

"Dear sir I thank you for your kind- 
ness 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 con- 
sider what a high calling, what honor 
and digmty. God has conferred upon me, 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 47 

to be called his child, to be born of his 
Spirit, made an heir of glory, and joint- 
heir with Christ; how humble and cir- 
cumspect should I be in all my ways, as 
a dutiful and loving child to an affec- 
tionate and loving Father. When I se- 
riously 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. 

"I did not feel in so happy a frame 
of conversation 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 noth- 
ing in you but what seemed to evidence 
a Christian spirit, temper, and disposi- 
tion. I very much wished for an oppor- 



48 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

tunity 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 Eev. Mr. , 

to thank him for permitting you to per- 
form the burial-service at over my 

dear departed sister, and to tell him of 
the kind way in which you consented to 
do it. I should mention that your man- 
ner of reading the service on that day 
had a considerable effect on the hearers. 

"Pray excuse all faults, and correct 
my errors. I expect in a few clays to 
return home to my parents' house. We 
shall rejoice to see you there. 

"From your humble servant in Christ, 

"E. W-r — ." 

It was impossible to view such a cor- 
respondent with indifference. I had just 
returned from a little cottage assembly, 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 49 

where, on Sunday evenings, I sometimes 
went to instruct a few poor families in 
one of the hamlets belonging to my par- 
ish. I read the letter, and closed the 
day with thanksgiving to God for thus 
enabling those who fear his name to build 
up each other in fear and love. 

Of old time, ''they that feared the 
Lord spake often one to another; and 
the Lord hearkened and heard it, and a 
book of remembrance was written before 
him for them that feared the Lord, and 
that thought upon his name.' 7 
• That book of remembrance is not yet 
closed. 



50 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 



PARTIII. 

The mind of man is like a moving pic- 
ture, supplied with objects, not only from 
contemplation on things present, but from 
the fruitful sources of recollection and 
anticipation. 

Memory retraces past events, and re- 
stores an ideal reality to scenes which 
are gone by for ever. They live a^lin 
in revived imagery, and we seem to. hear 
and see with renewed emotions what we 
heard and saw at- a former period. Suc- 
cessions of such recollected circumstances 
often form a series of welcome memo- 
rials. In religious meditations, the mem- 
ory becomes a sanctified, instrument of 
spiritual improvement. 

Another part of this animated picture 
is furnished by the pencil of hope. She 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 51 

draws encouraging prospects for the soul, 
by connecting the past and the 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 consider- 
ed as a part of "the purchased posses- 
sion " 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 tem- 
ple 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 



52 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

and enjoyment from the use of the mem- 
ory as it concerns those transactions in 
which he once bore a part. In his en- 
deavors to recall past conversations and 
intercourse with deceased friends in par- 
ticular, the powers of remembrance great- 
ly improve by exercise. One revived 
idea produces another, till the mind is 
most agreeably and usefully occupied 
with lively and holy imaginations. 

" Lulled 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. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 53 

Very soon after the receipt of the last 
letter, I rode for the first time to see the 
family at their own house. The principal 
part of the road lay through retired, nar- 
row lanes, beautifully overarched with 
groves of nut and other trees, which 
screened the traveller from the rays of 
the sun, and afforded many interesting 
objects for admiration in the flowers, 
shrubs, and young trees which grew upon 
the high banks on each side of the road. 
Many grotesque rocks, with little trick- 
ling streams of water occasionally break- 
ing out of them, varied the recluse scen- 
ery, and produced a romantic and pleas- 
ing effect. 

Here and there the most distant pros- 
pect beyond was observable through gaps 
and hollow places on the road-side. Lof- 
ty hills, with many signal-posts, obelisks, 
and lighthouses on their summits, ap- 
peared at these intervals: rich corn- 



54 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 character to the journey, 
and invited contemplation. 
• How much do they lose who are stran- 
gers to serious meditation on the won- 
ders and beauties of nature. How glo- 
riously the God of creation shines in his 
works. Not a tree, or leaf, or flower, 
not a bird or insect, but it 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 two cows be- 
fore him towards a yard and hovel which 
adjoined his cottage. I advanced very 
near him without his observing me, for 
his sight was dim. On my calling out 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 55 




to him, he started at the sound of my 
voice, but with much gladness of heart 
welcomed me, saying, " Bless your heart, 



56 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

sir, I am glad you are come ; we have 
looked for you every day this week." 

The cottage-door opened, and the 
daughter came out, followed by her aged 
and infirm mother. The sight of me nat- 
urally brought to recollection the grave 
at which we had before met. Tears of 
affection mingled with the smile of satis- 
faction with which I was received by 
these worthy cottagers. 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 
manifested within and without. No ex- 
cuse was made here, on the score of pov- 
erty, for confusion and uncleanliness in 
the disposal of their little household. 
Every thing wore the aspect of neatness 
and propriety. On each side of the fire- 
place stood an old oaken arm-chair, where 
the venerable parents rested their weary 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 57 

limbs after the day's labor was over. On 
a shelf in one corner lay two Bibles, with 
a few religious books and tracts. The 
little room had two windows: a lovely 
prospect of hills, woods, and fields, ap- 
peared through one j the other was more 
than half obscured by the branches of a 
vine which was trained across it; be- 
tween 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 blessing of God 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 further to visit us poor sinners. He 
left the bosom of his Father, laid aside 



58 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

his glory, and came down to this lower 
world on a visit of mercy and Jove ; and 
ought not we, if we profess to follow him, 
to bear each other's infirmities, 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 sus- 
tained. The pious and sensible disposi- 
tion of the daughter was peculiarly man- 
ifested, as well in what she said to her 
parents, as in what she more immediate- 
ly addressed to myself. I had now a 
further opportunity of remarking the good 
sense and agreeable manner which ac- 
companied her expressions of devoted- 
ness to God, and love to Christ for the 
great mercies which he had bestowed 
upon her. During her residence in dif- 
ferent gentlemen's families where she 
had been in service, she had acquired a 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 59 

superior behavior and address ; but sin- 
cere piety rendered her very humble 
and unassuming in manner and conver- 
sation. She seemed anxious to improve 
the opportunity of my visit to the best 
purpose for her own and her parents 7 
sake ; yet there was nothing of unbecom- 
ing forwardness, no self-confidence or 
conceited ness in her conduct, She united 
the firmness and solicitude of the Chris- 
tian with the modesty 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 con- 
versation^ adorned the principles which 
she professed. 

I soon discovered how eager and how 
successful also she had been in her en- 
deavors to bring her father and mother 
to the knowledge and experience of the 
truth. This is a lovely feature in the 
character of a ' young Christian. If it 



60 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

have pleased God, in the free dispensa- 
tion of his mercy, to call the child by his 
grace, while the parent remains 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. Hap- 
py is it when the ties of grace sanctify 
those of nature. 

The aged couple evidently regarded 
and spoke of this daughter as their teach- 
er and admonisher in divine things, while 
at the same time they received from her 
every token of filial submission and obe- 
dience, testified by continual endeavors 
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 character, and of no 
ordinary attainment. Her views of the 
divine plan in saving the sinner were 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 61 

clear and scriptural. She spoke much of 
the joys and sorrows which, in the course 
of her religious progress, she had expe- * 
rienced ; 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 be- 
lieved that the experimental acquaintance 
of the heart with God principally con- 
sisted in so living upon Christ by faith, 
as to aim at living like him by love. She 
knew that the love of God toward the 
sinner, and the path of duty prescribed 
to the sinner, are both of an unchangea- 
ble nature. In a believing dependence on 
the one, and an affectionate walk in the 
other, she sought and found "the peace 
of God which passeth all understanding ;" 
"for so he.giveth his beloved sleep.' 7 

She had read but few books besides 
her Bible ; but these few were excellent 
in their kind, and she spoke of their con- • 



62 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

tents as one who knew their value. • In 
addition to a Bible and prayer-book, 
Doddridge's "Rise and Progress," Ro- 
maine'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 
completed her library. 

I observed in her countenance a pale 
and delicate hue, which I afterwards 
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 inter- 
esting family ; and after having partaken 
of some plain and wholesome* refresh- 
ment, and enjoyed a few hours' conver- 
sation with them, I found it was necessa- 
ry for me to return homewards. The 
disposition and character of the parties 
may be in some sort ascertained by the 
expressions at parting. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 63 

"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, and not fit to talk to 
such a gentleman as you, yet my clear 
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 de- 
parted children in the grave." 

"Trust to the Lord,' 7 I answered, "and 
remember his gracious promise : ' Even 
to your old age I am he ; and even to 
hoar hairs I will 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 



64 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

I have experienced it to be so. My 
dear father and mother, will, I am sure, 
remember it • and I rejoice in the oppor- 
tunity of seeing so kind a friend under 
this roof. My Saviour has been abun- 
dantly good to me in plucking 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 like- 
wise." 

"I think it evident," I replied, "that 
the promise is fulfilled in their case : ' It 
shall come to 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. . 65 

own un worthiness and insufficiency, I re- 
joice with trembling." 

"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 elev- 
enth 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 saved from the wrath to come. 
Indeed, sir, she 's a rare child to us." 

11 Peace be to you, and to all that be- 
long to you." 

" 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. 



66 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

Many other visits were afterwards 
made by me to this peaceful cottage, and 
I always found increasing 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 re- 
ceipt of the following letter. 

"Rev. Sir — I have been expecting to 
see or hear from you for a considerable 
time. Excuse the liberty*! take in send- 
ing 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 
the borders of eternity. Glory be to 
God, it is a very pleasing prospect be- 
fore me. Though I feel the workings of 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 67 

sin, and am abased, yet Jesus shows his 
mercy to be mine, and I trust that I am 
his. At such times, 

"'My soul would leave this heavy clay 
At his transporting word, 
Kun up with joy the shining way 
To meet and prove 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 captive through.' 

My desire is to live every moment to 
God, 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 nor die happy 
without this ; and to keep it, we must be 
continually 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 



68 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 who heard 
it. It was my earnest prayer to God 
that it might be so. But alas, once call- 
ing does not awaken many that are in a 
sound sleep. Yet the voice of God is 
sometimes very powerful, when his min- 
isters speak — when they are influenced 
by his Holy Spirit, and are simple and 
sincere in holding forth the word of life. 
Then it will teach us all things, and en- 
lighten our mind and reveal unto us the 
hidden things of darkness, and give us 
out of that divine treasure 'things new 
and old.' Besting on God to work in us 
both to will and to do of his own good 
pleasure, we ought always to work as dil- 
igent servants, that know they have a 
good Master, that will surely not forget 
their labor of love. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 69 

"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 pa- 
tience 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 Gocl, 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 endeavor 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, 



10 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

we are more desirous of glorifying him, 
in making known his goodness to us, than 
the proud rich man is of getting honor to 
himself. I mourn over my own back- 
wardness to this exercise of duty, when 
I think of God's willingness to save the 
vilest of the vile, according to the dis- 
pensations of his eternal grace and mer- 
cy. Oh, 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 delighted with such a contem- 
plation. 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 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. Oh, how 
I was struck when I heard the Lord had 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. Tl 

taken him so suddenly. I was filled 
with sorrow and shame for having neg- 
lected what I had so often resolved to 
do. But now the time of speaking for 
God to him was 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 clone. 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 can- 
not recall the time that is past, nor him 
from the grave. Had I known the Lord 
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 
he 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 



72 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 hath 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 weak- 
ness of body and mind, for without him 
I can do nothing. But when I can ex- 
perience the teaching of that Holy One, 
I need no other teacher. May the Lord 
anoint you with the same, and give you 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 73 

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 
love of God 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 you may be 
made a blessing to him that has taken 
tlie 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 country out of sight. 

"Pray excuse all faults. From your 
humble servant in the bonds of the gos- 
pel of Christ, 

« E. W ." 



X4 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

When I perused this and other letters 
which were at different times written to 
me by the dairyman's daughter, I felt 
that in the person of this interesting cor- 
respondent were singularly united the 
characters of a humble disciple and a 
faithful monitor. I wished to acknow- 
ledge 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 communications, beyond even 
any present estimate of their spiritual 
importance. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 15 



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 wit- 
ness to the triumphs of the Redeemer 
over sin, death, and the grave. How 
great the change that is wrought. The 
child of wrath becomes a monument 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. 77 How marvellous, how interest- 
ing, is the spiritual history of each indi- 
vidual believer. He is, like David, "a 
wonder to many," but the greatest won- 
der of all to himself. Others may doubt 



16 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

whether it be so or not ; but to him it is 
unequivocally proved, that from first to 
last, grace alone reigns in the work 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 divine favor 
and compassion, says, "They that be 
endued with so excellent a benefit of 
God, be called according to God's pur- 
pose in due season: they through grace 
obey the calling ; they be justified 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 everlast- 
ing felicity." 

Such a conception and display of the 
almighty wisdom, power, and love, is 
indeed "full of sweet, pleasant, and un- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 11 

speakable comfort to godly persons, and 
such as feel in themselves the working 
of the Spirit of Christ mortifying the 
works of the flesh, and their earthly 
members, and drawing up their minds 
to high and heavenly things; it doth 
greatly establish and confirm their faith 
of eternal salvation, to be enjoyed through 
Christ, and doth fervently kindle their 
love towards God.' 7 

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 oth- 
ers. 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 



78 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

proved to her, that Jesus is "the way, 
and the truth, and the life." She desired 
to evince the reality of her calling, justi- 
fication, and adoption into the family of 
God, by showing a conformity to the 
image of Christ, and by walking "relig- 
iously 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.' 7 

I had the spiritual charge of another 
parish, adjoining to that in which I re- 
sided. 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 
opulent and titled family; but it had 
long since been appropriated to the use 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 79 

of the estate as a farm-house. Its out- 
ward aspect bore considerable remains 
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 God 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, An- 
other winded round the curved sides of 
the adjacent hill, and was adorned, both 
abtrve and below, with numerous sheep, 
feeding on the herbage of the down. A 
third road led to the church by a gently 
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 



80 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

congregation gradually assembling to- 
gether at the hour of Sabbath worship. 
They were in some directions visible for 
a considerable distance. Gratifying as- 
sociations 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, dur- 
ing a short interval previous to the hour 
of divine service, I reflected on the joy 
which David experienced at the time he 
exclaimed, "J w r as 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 builcl- 
ed as a city that is compact, together; 
whither the tribes go up, the tribes of 
the Lord, unto the testimony of Israel, 
to "•give thanks unto the name of the 
Lord. 7 ' 

I was led to reflect upon the various 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 81 

blessings connected with the establish- 
ment of public worship. "How many 
immortal souls are now gathering to- 
gether to perform the all-important work 
of prayer and praise, to hear the word 
of God, and to feed upon the bread of 
life. They are leaving their respective 
dwellings, and will soon be united to- 
gether in the house of prayer. How 
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 now 
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. 7 " 
Who can rightly appreciate the value 



82 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 igno- 
rant how to live and die ; in preaching 
the gospel . to the poor ; in healing the 
broken-hearted; in declaring "deliver- 
ance to the captives, and recovering of 
sight to the blind/' 7 "Blessed is the peo- 
ple that know the joyful sound ; they 
shall walk, Lord, in the light of thy 
countenance. In thy name they shall 
rejoice all the day, and in thy righteous- 
ness shall they be exalted." 

My thoughts then pursued a train of 
reflection on the importance of the min- 
isterial office, as connected in the pur- 
poses of God with the salvation of sin- 
ners. I inwardly prayed that those 
many individuals whom he had given 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 83 

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 undisguised truths of the gos- 
pel, to the glory of God and the pros- 
perity 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 home, I little expect- 
ed to meet. It was the venerable dairy- 
man. He came up the ascent, leaning 
with one hand m 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 be- 



84 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

low me. I was concealed from their 
sight by a projecting tree. They were 
talking of the mercies of God, and the 
unsearchable riches of his grace. The 
dairyman was telling his companion what 
a blessing the Lord had given him in his 
daughter. His countenance brightened 
as he named her, and called her his pre? 
cious Betsey. 

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 has now become a long walk 
for me; I grow old and weak. I am 
very glad to see you, sir.' 7 

"How is your daughter?" 

"Yery poorly indeed, sir: very poor- 
ly. The doctors say it is a decline. I 
sometimes hope she will get the better 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 85 

of it; but then again I have many fears. 
You know, sir, that I have cause to love 
and prize her. Oh, 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 peru- 
sal of which I reserved till afterwards, as 
the time was nigh for going into church. 

The presence of this aged pilgrim, the 
peculiar reverence and affection with 
which he joined in the different parts 
of the service, excited many gratifying 
thoughts in my mind; such as rather 
furthered than interrupted devotion. 

The train of reflection in which I had 
been engaged when I first discovered 
him on the road, at intervals recurred 
powerfully to my feelings, as I viewed 
that very congregation assembled to- 
gether in the house of God, whose steps, 
in their approach towards it, I had watch- 
ed with prayerful emotions. 



86- THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

"Here the rich and poor meet together 
in mutual acknowledgment that the Lord 
is the Maker of them all ; and that all 
are alike dependent creatures, looking 
up to one common Father to supply their 
wants, both temporal and spiritual. 

"Again, likewise, will they meet to- 
gether in the grave, that undistinguished 
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 re- 
ceive the things done in his body, accord- 
ing 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 gen- 
eral meeting together. 

"The house of prayer, the house ap- 
pointed for all living, and the house not 
made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 
May we never separate these ideas from 



. THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 8? 

each other, but retain them in a sacred 
and profitable union. So shall our wor- 
shipping assemblies on earth be repre- 
sentatives of the general assembly and 
church of the first-born, which are writ- 
ten in heaven. :; 

When the congregation dispersed, I 
entered into discourse with the dairyman 
and a few of the poor of my flock whose 
minds were of the like disposition 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 
affectionate attentions of his daughter. 
All real Christians feel a tender spiritual 
attachment towards those who have been 
the instrument of bringing them to an 
effectual knowledge of the way of salva- 
tion ; but when that instrument is one so 
nearly allied, how dear does the relation- 
ship become. 



88 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. , 

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 par- 
ents 7 declining years, and they scarcely 
knew how sufficiently to testify the grat- 
itude of their hearts for the comfort and 
blessing which she was the means of 
affording them. 

While he was relating several partic- 
ulars of his family history to the others, 
I opened and read the following letter : 

"Sir — Once more I take the libertv 
to trouble you with a few lines. I re- 
ceived 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 heretofore always so much strength- 
ened and refreshed me. I used to go 
in anxious expectation to meet- my God, 
and hold, sweet communion with him, 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 89 

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 warm- 
ed 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 clown 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 dwell- 
eth 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 



90 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 justifying and purifying blood 
of an expiring Redeemer. Then will 
you triumph in his strength, and be ena- 
bled to say with the poet, 
.» 

" ' Shall I, through fear of feeble men, 
The Spirit's course strive to restrain? 
Or, undismayed 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 anger bear ? 

" ' Shall I, to soothe th' unholy throng, 
Soften thy truths and smooth my tongue, 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 91 

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. 

" ' 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 glo- 
rious 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 



92 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

messengers of the most high God. Is it 
too much to say, they should live like 
the angels in all holiness, and be filled 
with love and zeal for men's souls ? They 
are ambassadors, in Christ's stead, to per- 
suade sinners to be reconciled to God. 
So that your calling is above that of an- 
gels, for they are afterward to minister 
to the heirs of salvation; but the sinner 
must be first reconciled to God. And 
you are called on from day to day to 
intercede 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 Spir- 
it, are coworkers together. Yet without 
him we can do nothing ; our strength is 
his strength, and his is all the glory from 
first to last. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 93 

"It is my heart's prayer and desire, 
sir, that you may, by a living faith, cleave 
close to that blessed, exalted Lamb of 
God who died to redeem us from sin — that 
you may have a sweet communion 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 favor, 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 endeavor to set him always 
before us, that in all things we may act 



94 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

as in his immediate presence; that we 
may be filled with that holy fear, so 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 recol- 
lections, while I attempt in this weak 
manner to speak of God's love to man. 
When I reflect on my past sins and his 
past mercies, I am assured, that if I had 
all the gifts of wise men and angels, I 
could never sufficiently describe my own 
inward sense of his undeserved love tow- 
ards me. We can better enjoy these glo- 
rious apprehensions in our hearts, than 
explain them to others. But Oh, how un- 
worthy of them all are we. Conscious- 
ness of my own corruptions keeps me 
often low ; yet faith and desire will ea'si- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 95 

ly mount on high, beseeching God that 
he would, according to the apostle's pray- 
er, fill me with all his communicable ful- 
ness, in the gifts and graces of his Spirit, 
that I may walk well-pleasing before him, 
in all holy conversation, perfecting holi- 
ness 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 in- 
tercourse with God 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 heartfelt experience be compelled 
to reply, Thou knowest all things, and 
thou knowest that I love thee supremely. 
May he have evident marks of it in all 
your outward actions of love^ind human- 



96 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

ity, in feeding his flock, and in the in- 
ward fervor and affection of all your con- 
secrated powers ; that you may be zeal- 
ously engaged in pulling down the strong- 
holds of sin and Satan, and building up 
his church; sowing the seeds of right- 
eousness, and praying God to give the 
increase ; that you may not labor for 
him in vain ; but may see the trees bud 
and blossom, and bring forth fruit abun- 
dantly, to the praise and glory of your 
heavenly Master. In order to give you 
encouragement, he says, whosoever 'con- 
verteth 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 mer- 
ited for his faithful ministers. 

"I hope, sir, you will receive grace to 
be sincere in reproving sin, wherever 
you see it. You will find divine assist- 
ance, and all fear and shame taken from 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 97 

you. Great peace will be given to you, 
and wisdom, strength, and courage, ac- 
cording to your work. You will be as 
Paul; having much learning, you can 
speak to men in all stations in life, by 
GrocUs assistance. The fear of offending 
them will never prevent you, when you 
consider the glory of God; and man's 
immortal soul is of more value than his 
present favor 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 instrument in his hand to 
do his work. Although he can work 
without means, yet his usual way is by 
means ; and I trust you are a chosen 
vessel 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 



98 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 com- 
passion on their fellow-sinners, that they 
may never think it too late, but remem- 
ber 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 his word 
I must myself appear : 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 99 

By actions, words, and tempers show 
That I my heavenly Master know, 
And serve with heart sincere. 

" ' I must the fair example set, 

From tftose that on my pleasure wait 

The stumbling-block remove ; 
Their duty by my life explain, 
And still in all my works 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 '11 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. 



100 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

• '■ ' 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 pjeasantness 

Conduct them all to heaven.' 

"Living so much in a solitary way, 
books are my companions ; and poetry 
which speaks of the love of God and the 
mercies of Christ, is very sweet to my 
mind. This must be my excuse for troub- 
ling you to read verses which others 
have written. I have intended, if my 
declining state of health 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 W ." 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 101 

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 counsellor 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 sen- 
timents 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 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 



102 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

your kindness to him and his family. 
God bless you, sir ; I hope we shall soon 
see you again." 

Thus we parted for that day. 







THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 103 



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, as they advance 
to the close of mortal existence. In par- 
ticular, they grow in humility, through a 
deeper sense of inward corruption, and a 
clearer view of the perfect character of 
the Saviour. Disease and bodily w r eak- 
jess make the thoughts of eternity recur 
with frequency and powder. The great 
question of their own personal salvation, 
the quality of their faith, the sincerity of 
their love, and the purity of their hope, 
are in continual exercise. 



104 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

Unseen realities, at such a time, occupy 
a larger portion of thought than before. 
The state of existence beyond the grave, 
the invisible world, the unaltered charac- 
ter of the dead, the future judgment, the 
total separation from every thing earth- 
ly, the dissolution of body and. spirit, 
and their reunion at the solemn hour of 
resurrection — these are subjects for their 
meditation which call for serious earnest- 
ness of soul. Whatever consolations from 
the Spirit of God they may have enjoyed 
heretofore, they become now doubly anx- 
ious to examine and prove themselves, 
whether they be indeed in the faith. In 
doing this, they sometimes pass through 
hidden conflicts of a dark and distress* 
ing 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/per- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 105 

haps, less of ecstasy, but more of seren- 
ity. 

As the ears of corn ripen for the har- 
vest, they bow their heads nearer to the 
ground. So it is with believers: they 
then 'see more than ever of their own 
imperfection, 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 become, but not 
the less useful in their sphere. They 
feel anxiously* desirous of improving ev- 
ery 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 



106 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

divine favor, increased in brightness as 
the setting sun of her mortal life ap- 
proached 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 company and that 
of her parents. It again endears to me 
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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 107 

were penned, that they would ever be 
submitted to the public eye: that they 
now are so, results from a conviction 
that the friends of the pious poor will 
estimate them according to their value ; 
and a hope that it may please God to 
honor these memorials of the dead, to 
the effectual edification of the living. 

"Rev. Sir — In consequence of your 
kind permission, I take the liberty to 
trouble you with another of my ill-writ- 
ten 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 towards me. May the 
Lord direct me by his counsel and wis- 
dom. May he overshadow me with his 



108 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

presence; that I may sit beneath the 
banner of his love, and find the consola- 
tions of his blessed Spirit sweet and re- 
freshing 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 me 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 communion might we have with a 
God of love. He is the great I AM. 
How glorious a name. Angels with trem- 
bling awe prostrate themselves before 
him, and in humble love adore and wor- 
ship 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 109 

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 clay I may say, 'Lord, 
how little I love thee, how far I live 
from thee, how little am I like thee in 
humility. 7 It is nevertheless my heart's 
desire to love and serve him better. I 
find the way in which God 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 pre- 
cious love to my soul. . These I have 
often found to be indeed the time of re- 
freshing and strengthening from the pres- 
ence 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. 



1.10 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

"I earnestly wish to be more estab- 
lished in his ways, and to honor him in 
the path of duty, while I enjoy the smiles 
of his favor. In the midst of all outward 
afflictions I pray that I may know Christ, 
and the power of his resurrection within 
my soul. If I were always thus, my 
summer would last all the year ; my will 
would then be sweetly lost in God's will, 
and I should feel a resignation in every 
dispensation of his providence and his 
grace, saying, 'Good is the will 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 happiness 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. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. Ill 

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. Oh that we 
may be the happy witnesses of the sav- 
ing power and virtue of that healiug 
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 
effectual 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 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 



112 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

with the dearest of friends. What favor 
does 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 unfaithful 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 refreshing 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 ex- 
press image of his Father, and the bright- 
ness of his glory. Then, if found in him, 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 113 

we shall be received by the innumera- 
ble host 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 that was set before 
him, endured the cross, despising the 
shame, and is now set down at his Fa- 
ther'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 communi- 
cating these thoughts to you. 

"I hope, sir, you go on your way re- 
joicing; that you are enabled to thank 
Him who is the giver of every good gift, 
spiritual, temporal, and providential, for 
blessings to }^ourself and your ministry. 
I do not doubt but that you often meet 
with circumstances which are not pleas- 
ing to nature, vet, bv the blessing of 

8 



114 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

God, they will be all 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 clear 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 cottage 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 ; this was a great neglect 
when I was youngo I gave myself great- 
ly to reading, but not to the other, and 
now I am too weak and feeble to learn 
much. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 115 

"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 one heart and mind in Christ our great 
Head. Your greatest joy, I know, will 
be in laboring much for the glory of God 
in the salvation of men 7 s souls. You 
serve a good Master. You have a sure 
reward I pray God to give you strength 
according to your clay. 

"Pray, sir, do not be offended at the 
freedom and manner of my writing. My 
parents 7 duty and love to you are sent 
with these lines from 

"Your humble servant in Christ, 

"ELIZABETH W . 



116 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

Epistolary communications, when writ- 
ten in sincerity of heart, afford genuine 
portraits of the mind. May the fore- 
going be viewed with Christian candor, 
and consecrated to affectionate memory." 




THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. lit 



PART VI. 

Travellers, as they pass through 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 own- 
ers engage much attention. Perhaps 
their houses are exhibited to the admir- 
ing stranger. The elegant rooms, costly 
furniture, valuable paintings, beautiful 
gardens and shrubberies, are universally 
approved ; while the rank, fashion, taste, 
and riches of the possessor afford ample 
materials for entertaining discussion. In 
the meantime, the lowly cottage of the 
poor husbandman is passed by as scarce- 
ly deserving of notice. Yet perchance 
such a cottage may often contain a treas- 



118 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

ure 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 clay 
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 
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 declara- 
tions in the word of God. He sees with 
admiration, that the high and lofty One 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 119 

that Inhabiteth eternity, whose name is 
Holy, who dwelleth in the high and holy 
place, clwelleth with him also that is of a 
contrite and humble spirit, Isa. 57:15; 
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, 66:2. 

When a house is thus tenanted, faith 
beholds this inscription written on the 
walls, The Lord lives here. Faith there- 
fore cannot pass it by .unnoticed, 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 interview have I 
myself enjoyed beneath the roof where 



120 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

dwelt the dairyman and his little Tarn- 

ay. 

I soon perceived that his daughter's 
health was rapidly on the decline. The 
pale, wasting consumption, which is the 
Lord's instrument for removing so many 
thousands every year from the land of 
the living, made hasty strides on her 
constitution. The hollow eye, the dis- 
tressing cough, and the often too-flatter- 
ing flush on the cheek, foretold the ap- 
proach of death. 

What a field for usefulness and affec- 
tionate attention, on the part of ministers 
and Christian friends, is opened by the 
frequent attacks and lingering process of 
consumptive 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 instruction. Of how many 
may it be said, ""The way of peace have 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 121 

they not known f for not one friend 
ever came nigh, to warn them to "flee 
from the wrath to come." 

But the dairyman's daughter was hap- 
pily 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 abso- 
lutely stored with divine truths, and her 
conversation .was truly edifying. The 
recollection of it will ever produce a 
thankful sensation in my heart. 

I one day received a short note to the 
following effect : 

''Dear Sir — I should be 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 



122 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 W .? 

I obeyed the summons that same after- 
noon. 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." 

"Oh, 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 123 

child safe home to glory. Is there no 
mercy in this?". 

' • Oh dear, sir, I am very old and very 
weak; and she is a dear child, the stall 
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 enlight- 
ened 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 in- 
terrupted by her cough and want of 
breath. Her tone of voice was clear, 



124 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

though feeble ; her manner solemn and 
collected ; and her eye, tiiough more dim 
than formerly, by no means wanting in 
liveliness as she spoke. I had frequent- 
ly admired the superior language in which 
she expressed her ideas, as well as the 
scriptural consistency with which she 
communicated her thoughts. She had a 
good natural understanding ; and grace, 
as is generally the case, had much im- 
proved it. On the present occasion I 
could not help thinking she was peculiar- 
ly favored. The whole strength of gra- 
cious and natural attainments seemed to 
be in full exercise. 

After taking my seat between the 
daughter and the mother — the latter fix- 
ing her fond eyes upon her child with 
great anxiety while we were convers- 
ing — I said to Elizabeth, 

"I hope you enjoy a sense of the di- 
vine presence, and can rest all upon Him 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAJJGHTER. 125 

who has 'been with thee,' and has kept 
'thee in all places where thon 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 be- 
lieve it has been partly owing to the 
great weakness and suffering of my bod- 
ily 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 sugges- 
tions? Can you doubt, amidst such nu- 
merous tokens of past and present mer- 
cy?" 

"No, sir, I mostly am enabled to pre- 
serve 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." 



126 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

"What is your present view of the 
state in which you were, before you felt 
seriously concerned about the salvation 
of your soul?" 

"Sir, I was a proud, thoughtless girl, 
fond of dress and finery; I loved the 
world, and the things that are in the 
world. I lived in service among world- 
ly 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 dis- 
liked, and often laughed at religious 
people. I was in great darkness; 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 127 

good servant, and was much lifted up 
whenever I met with applause. I was 
tolerably moral and decent in my con-~ 
duct, from motives of carnal and world- 
ly 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 por- 
tipn. 77 

"How long is it since you heard the 
sermon which you hope, through God's 
blessing, effected your conversion?' 7 
"About five years ago. 77 
"How was it brought about? 77 

"It was reported that a Mr. , 

who was detained by contrary winds 
from embarking on board ship as chap- 
lain to a distant part of the world, was 

to preach at church. Many advised 

me not to go, for fear he should turn my 
head ; as they said he held strange no- 
tions. But curiosity, and an opportunity 



128 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

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 curi- 
osity. 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 myself. My dress, like that of 
too many gay, vain, and silly servant- 
girls, w^as much above my station, and 
very different from that which becomes 
an humble sinner, who has a modest 
sense of propriety and decency. The 
state of my mind was visible enough 
from the foolish finery of my apparel. 

"At length the clergyman gave out 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 129 

his text: 'Be ye clothed with humility.' 
He drew a comparison between the cloth- 
ing of the body and that of the' soul. At 
a very early part of his discourse, I be- 
gan to feel ashamed of my passion for 
fine dressing and apparel ; but when he 
came to describe the garment of salva- 
tion with which a Christian is clothed, I 
felt a powerful discovery of the naked- 
ness of my own soul. I saw that I had 
neither the humility mentioned in the 
text, nor any one part of the true Chris- 
tian 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 congregation, and wondered whether 
any one else felt as I did. I looked at my 
heart, and it appeared full of iniquity. I 
trembled as he spoke, and yet I felt a great 
drawing of heart to the words he uttered. 



130 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

" 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 example of 
Christ ; I felt proud, lofty, vain, and self- 
consequential. He represented Christ 
as 'Wisdom;' I felt my ignorance. He 
held him forth as ' Eighteousness ;' I was 
convinced of my own guilt. He proved 
him to be ' Sanctification ;' I saw my cor- 
ruption. He proclaimed him as 'Re- 
demption ;' I felt my slavery to sin, and 
my captivity 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 God 



THE DAIRYMAN'S. DAUGHTER. 131 

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 God it was made instrumental 
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 cor- 
ruptible, even the ornament of a meek 
and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of 
God of great price. 

"The greatest part of the congrega- 
tion, unused to such faithful and scrip- 
tural sermons, disliked and complained 
of the severity of the preacher ; while a 
few, as I afterwards found, like myself, 
were deeply affected, and earnestly wish- 
ed to hear him again. But he preached* 
there no more. 



132 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

"From that time I was led, through a 
course of private prayer, reading, and 
meditation, to see my lost state as a sin- 
ner, and the great mercy of God through 
Jesus Christ, in raising sinful dust and 
ashes to a share in the glorious happiness 
of heaven. And Oh, 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 your salvation must be an 
act of entire grace on the part of God, 
wholly independent of your own previous 
works or deservings?" 
1 "Dear sir, what were my works, be- 
fore I heard that sermon, but evil, carnal, 
selfish, and ungodly? The thoughts of 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 133 

my heart, from my youth upward, were 
only evil, and that continually. And 
my deservings, what were they, but the 
deservings of a fallen, deprayed, careless 
soul, that regarded neither law nor gos- 
pel? 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 honor 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. I 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 delight I enjoyed in communion 
with God. Often I mourned over my 
sins, and sometimes had a great conflict 
through unbelief, fear, temptation to re- 
turn back again to my old ways, and a 



134 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

variety of difficulties 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 resolu- 
tions 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?' 7 

"Yes, sir, every day of my life. I 
was laughed at by some, scolded at by 
others, scorned by enemies, and pitied 
by friends. I was called hypocrite, saint, 
false deceiver, and many more names 
which were meant to render me hateful 
in the sight of the world. But I esteem- 
ed the reproach of the cross an honor. I 
forgave and prayed for my persecutors, 
and remembered how very lately I had 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 135 

acted the same part towards others my- 
self. I thought also that Christ endured 
the contradiction of sinners ; and as the 
disciple is not above his Master, I was 
glad to be in any way r conformed to his 
sufferings.' 7 

"Did you not then feel for your fam- 
ily at home?" 

"Yes, that I did indeed, sir; they 
were never out of my thoughts. I pray- 
ed continually for them, and had a long- 
ing desire, to do them good. In particu- 
lar I felt for my father and mother, as 
they were getting into years, and were 
very ignorant and dark in matters of re- 
ligion. 7 ' 

"Aye," interrupted her mother, sob- 
bing, "ignorant and dark, sinful and mis- 
erable 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." 



136 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

' ' No, dearest mother; say rather, Christ 
Jesus brought your poor daughter home 
to tell you what he had doue 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 sentences 
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. .Sir, don't she look very ill? 
I think, sir, we sha'n't have her here 
long.' 7 

"Leave that to the Lord," said Eliza- 
beth. "All our times are in his hand, 
and happy it is that they are. I am- 
willing to go; are not you willing, my 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 137 

father, to part with me into his 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 
consolations chiefly depended, in the 
prospect of approaching death. 

"Entirely, sir, on nry view of Christ. 
When I look at myself, many sins, in- 
firmities, and imperfections 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 love- 
ly ; there is not one spot in his counte- 
nance, nor one cloud over all his perfec- 
tions. 

"I think of his coming in the flesh, 



/138 THE DAIRYMAN' ^DAUGHTER. 

and it reconciles me to the sufferings of 
the body ; for he had them as well as I. 
I think of his temptations, and believe 
that he is able to succor 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 affections are set 
upon things above. Chiefly I take com- 
fort in 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 labor to do my 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 13$ 

duty in that state of life into which it 
has pleased God to call me. 

1 ' 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 far 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 Oh, what happiness be- 
yond. Tell me, sir, whether you think I 
am right. I hope I am under no delu- 
sion. 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 



1*40 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

power and will to save. I ani in his 
hands, and would remain there ; and I 
do believe that he will never leave nor 
forsake me, but will perfect the thing 
that concerns me. ' He loved me and 
gave himself for me, and I belie*ve that 
his gifts and callings are without repent- 
ance. In this hope I live, in this hope I 
wish to die." 

I looked around me as she was speak- 
ing, ' and thought, Surely this is none 
other than the house of God, and the 
gate of heaven. Every thing appear- 
ed neat, cleanly, and interesting. The 
afternoon had been rather overcast with 
dark clouds ; but just now the setting 
sun shone brightly and somewhat sud- 
denly into the room. It was reflected 
from three or four rows of bright pew- 
ter plates and white earthenware, ar- 
ranged on shelves against the wall; it 
also gave brilliancy to a few prints of 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 141 

sacred subjects that hung there also, 
and served for monitors of the birth, 
baptism, crucifixion, and resurrection of 
Christ. 

A large map of Jerusalem, and a hie- 
roglyphic of "the old and new man," 
completed the decorations on that side 
of the room. Clean as was the white- 
washed wall, it was not cleaner than the 
rest of the place and its furniture. Sel- 
dom had tjie sun enlightened a house 
where order and general 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 Christian's depart- 
ing season. One ray happened to be 
reflected from a little looking-glass upon 
her face. Amidst her pallid and de- 
caying features there appeared a calm 
resignation, triumphant confidence, un- 



142 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

affected humility, and tender anxiety, 
which fully declared the feelings of her 
heart. 

Some further affectionate conversation, 
and a short prayer, closed this inter- 
view. 

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 injects of the 
night, the distant murmurs of the sea, 
the last notes of the birds of day, and 
the first warblings of the nightingale, 
broke upon the ear, and served rather 
to increase than lessen the peaceful se- 
renity of the evening and its correspond- 
ing effects on. my own mind. It invited 
and cherished just such meditations as 
my visit had already inspired. Natural 
scenery, when viewed in a Christian 
mirror, frequently affords very beautiful 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 143 

illustrations of divine truths. We are 
highly favored when we can enjoy them, 
and at the same time draw near to God 
in them. 







144 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 



PART VII. 

It is a pleasing consideration, that 
amidst the spiritual darkness which un- 
happily prevails in many parts of the 
land. God nevertheless has a people. It 
not unfrequently happens that single in- 
dividuals are to be found, who, though 
very disadvantageously situated with re- 
gard to the ordinary means of grace, 
have received truly saving impressions, 
and through a blessing on secret medita- 
tion, reading, and prayer, are led to the 
closest communion with God, and become 
eminently devoted Christians. It is the 
no small error of too many professors of 
the present day, to overlook or under- 
value the instances of this kind which 
exist. The religious profession and opin- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 145 

ions of some have too much of mere ma- 
chinery in their composition. If every 
wheel, pivot, chain, spring, cog, or pin- 
ion, be not exactly in its place, or move 
not precisely according to a favorite and 
prescribed system, the whole is rejected 
as unworthy of regard. But happily 
"the Lord knoweth them that are his; 77 
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 iniquity. 77 

There are some real Christians so pe- 
culiarly circumstanced in this respect, as 
to illustrate the poet 7 s comparison: 

" Full many a gem of purest ray serene 

The dark unfathomed 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 dairy man 7 s daughter. Her re- 
10 • 



146 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

ligion had indeed ripened in seclusion 
from the world, and she was intimately 
known but to few ; but she lived usefully, 
departed most happily, and left a shining 
track behind her. While I attempt a 
faint delineation of it, may I catch its in- 
fluence, and become, through inexpressible 
mercy, a follower of "them who through 
faith and patience inherit the promises." 

From the time wherein I visited her, as 
described in my last paper, 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 bespoke se- 
riousness, good sense, and piety. 

"I am sent, sir, by the father and 
mother of Elizabeth W— — , at her own 
particular request, to say how much they 
all wish to see you. She is going home, 
sir, very fast indeed." 

"Have you known her long?" 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 147 

"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 brothei^ soldier. Though we 
differ in our outward regimentals, I hope 
we serve under the same spiritual Cap- 
tain. I will go with you." 

My horse was soon ready. My mili- 
tary companion walked by my side, and 
gratified me with very sensible and pious 
conversation. He related some remark- 
able testimonies of the excellent disposi- 
tion of the dairyman's daughter, as they 
appeared 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." 



148 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

We passed through lanes and fields, 
over hills and valleys, by open and re- 
tired paths, sometimes crossing over, and 
sometimes following the windings of a 
little brook which gently murmured by 
the road-side. Conversation beguiled 
the distance, and shortened the apparent 
time of our journey, till we were nearly 
arrived at the dairyman's cottage. 

As we approached it, we became si- 
lent. Thoughts of death, eternity, and 
salvation, inspired by the sight of a house 
where a dying believer lay, rilled my own 
. mind, and I doubt not, that of my com- 
panion also. 

No living object yet appeared, except 
the dairyman's dog : keeping a kind of 
mute watch at the door ; .for he did not 
as formerly, bark at my approach. He 
seemed to partake so far of the feelings 
appropriate to the circumstances of the 
family, as not to wish to give a hasty or 



THE. DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 149 

painful alarm. He came forward to the 
little wicket-gate, then looked back at the 
house door, as if conscious there was sor- 
row 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 ap- 
peared to surround the whole place ; it 
was only interrupted by the breezes pass- 
ing through the large elm-trees which 
stood near the house, and which my im- 
agination indulged itself in thinking were 
plaintive sighs of sorrow. I gently open- 
ed 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 



150 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

my hand, and said nothing. On enter- 
ing the room above, I saw the aged 
mother and her son 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 bedside. The mother 
could not weep, but now and then sighed* 
deeply, as she alternately looked at Eliz- 
abeth and at 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, lean- 
ing upon the 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 perceived me not. But over the 
face, though pale, sunk, and hollow, the 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 151 

peace of God, which passeth all under- 
standing, had cast a triumphant calm. 

The soldier, after a short pause, silent- 
ly reached out his Bible towards me, 
pointing with his finger at 1 Cor. 15 :55- 
57. I then broke silence by reading the 
passage, "0 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, and something like a ray of di- 
vine light beamed on her countenance, 
as she said, "Victory, victory; through 
our Lord Jesus Christ," 

She relapsed again, taking no further 
no'tice of any one present. 

"God be praised for the triumph of 
faith," said I. 

"Amen," replied the soldier. 



152 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

The dairyman's uplifted eye showed 
that the 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 pre- 
cious to you?" 

' ' They are all yea and amen in Christ 
Jesus." 

"Are you in much bodily pain?" 

"So little, that I almost forget if." 

"How good the Lord is." 

"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. 153 

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 na more ; it will 
be but a little while." 

"Sir," said the dairyman, "that thought 
supports me, and the Lord's goodness 
makes me feel more reconciled than I 
was." 

"Father — mother," said the reviving 
daughter, "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 favor : you buried 
my sister — will you do the same for 
me?" 



154 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

"All shall be as you wish, if God per- 
mit, " I replied. 

"Thank you, sir, thank you. I have 
another favor 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 — my 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 sob- 
bed aloud, uttering broken sentences, and 
gained some relief by such an expression 
of their feelings. 

At length I said to Elizabeth, "Do you 
experience any doubts or temptations on 
the subject of your eternal safety?' 7 

"No, sir. The Lord deals very gently 
with me, and gives me peace.' 7 

"What are your views of the dark 
valley of death, now that you are pass- 
ing through it?' 7 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 155 

"It is not dark." 

"Why so?" 

' • My Lord is there, and he is my light 
and my salvation." 

"Have yon 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 Je- 
sus, precious Saviour. His blood cleans- 
eth from all sin — who shall separate? 
His name is Wonderful. Thanks be to 
God — He giveth 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 



156 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

to prayer. The Lord was in the midst 
of us, and blessed us. 

She did not again revive while I re- 
mained, nor ever speak any more words 
which could be understood. She slum- 
bered 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. 77 She gent- 
ly returned the pressure, but could neither 
open her eyes nor utter a reply. 

I never had witnessed a scene so im- 
pressive 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 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 15T 

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 utter- 
most. Farewell, dear sister in the Lord. 
Thy flesh and thy heart may fail; but 
God is the strength of thy heart, and 
shall be thy portion for ever." 



158 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 



PART VIII. 

Who can conceive or estimate the na- 
ture of that change which the soul of a 
believer must experience at the moment 
when, quitting its tabernacle 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 towards 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 innumer- 
able company of angels, to the general 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 159 

assembly and church of the first-born, 
which are written in heaven, and to God 
the Judge of all, and to the spirits of just 
men made perfect, and to Jesus the me- 
diator of the new covenant?" 

If, during the sighs and tears of a 
mortal pilgrimage, the consolations of 
the Spirit are so precious, and the hope 
full of immortality is so animating to the 
soul ; what heart can conceive, or what 
tongue utter its superior joys* when arriv- 
ed 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 travel- 
led onward to the house 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 



160 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

the .case of her sister, that I should per- 
form the funeral service. Many pleas- 
ing yet melancholy thoughts were con- 
nected 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 main- 
tained on earth. I reflected on the inter- 
esting and improving nature of Christian 
friendships, 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 wa- 
ters of the river of life. But the rising 
murmur was checked by the animating 
•thought, "She is gone to eternal rest — 
could I wish her back again in this vale 
of tears?" 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER*. 161 

At that moment the first sound of a 
tolling bell struck my ear. It proceeded 
from a village church in the valley di- 
rectly 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 ascend- 
ing to the elevated spot over which I 
rode, it acquired a peculiar tone and 
character. Tolling at slow and regular 
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 warning voice, thou son of man. 
There is but a step between thee and 
death. Arise, prepare thy house; for 
thou shalt die, and not live." 

The scenery was in unison with that 
ll 



162 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

tranquil frame of mind which is most 
suitable for holy meditation. A rich 
and fruitful valley lay immediately be- 
neath ; it was adorned with corn-fields 
and pastures, through which a small river 
winded in a variety of directions, and 
many herds grazed upon its banks. A 
fine range of opposite hills, covjered with 
grazing flocks, terminated with a bold 
sweep into the ocean, whose blue waves 
appeared at a distance beyond. Several 
villages, hamlets, and churches were scat- 
tered in the valley. The noble man- 
sions of the rich and the lowly cottages 
of the poor added their respective fea- 
tures 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 
attention was the bell tolling for the fu- 
neral of the dairyman's daughter. 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 163 

Do any of my readers inquire why I 
describe so minutely the circumstances 
of prospect and scenery which may be 
connected with the incidents I relate? 
My reply is, that the God of redemption 
is the God 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 ordained, he was thereby led to the 
deepest humiliation of heart before his 
Maker. And when he viewed the sheep 
and the oxen and the beasts of the field, 
the fowls of the air and the fish of the 
sea, he was constrained to cry out, "0 
Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy 
name in all the earth." 

I am the poor man's friend, and wish 
more especially that every poor laboring 



164 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

man should know how to connect the 
goodness of God in creation and prov- 
idence* with the unsearchable riches of 
his grace in the salvation of a sinner. 
And where can he learn this lesson more 
instructively than in looking around the 
fields where his labor is appointed, and 
there tracing the handiwork of God 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 overshaded 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 DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 1G5 

the neighborhood had assembled together, 
to pay their last tribute of esteem and 
regard to the memory of the dairyman's 
daughter. Several of them had first be= 
come acquainted with her during the lat- 
ter stage of her illness; some few had 
maintained an affectionate 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 Chris- 
tianity. 

I was requested to go into the cham- 
ber where the relatives and a few other* 
friends 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 tjie 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 



166 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

the separation that has taken place be- 
tween the soul and body of the de- 
ceased since we last beheld them, occu- 
pies the feelings ; our friend seems to be 
both near, and yet far off. The most 
interesting and valuable part is 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 seraphim, 
and sings the song of Moses and the Lamb 
on mount Zion. Amid the solemn still- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 167 

ness of the chamber of death, imagina- 
tion hears heavenly hymns chanted by 
the spirits of just men made perfect. In 
another moment, the livid lips 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, "Let me die the death 
of the righteous, and let my last end be 
like his.' 7 

If there be a moment when Christ and 
salvation, death, judgment, heaven, and 
hell, appear more than ever to be mo- 
mentous 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 fa- 
ther and mother sat at the head, her 
brother at the foot of the coffin. The 



16S THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

father silently and alternately looked 
upon his dead child, and then lifted up 
his eyes to heaven. A struggle for res- 
ignation to the will of God was manifest 
in his countenance, while the tears roll- 
ing 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 char- 
acter to her sorrow, which called for 
much tenderness and compassion. 

A remarkably decent-looking "woman, 
who had the management of the few 
simple though solemn ceremonies which 
the case required, advanced towards "me, 
saying, 

"Sir, this is rather a sight of joy than 
of sorrow. Our dear friend Elizabeth 
finds, it to be so, I have no doubt. She 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 169 

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 there 
she enjoys the pleasures which are at his 
right hand for evermore." 

"Mercy, mercy upon a poor old crea- 
ture almost broken down with age and 
grief. What shall I do ? . Betsey 7 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. God 



170 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

will in no wise cast out any that come 
to him." 

"My dear," said the dairyman, break- 
ing the long silence he had maintained, 
"let us trust God with our child, and let 
us trust him with our own selves. The 
Lord gave, and the Lord has 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 in my last paper 
reached a Bible into my hand, and said, 
"Pe'rhaps, sir, you would not object .to 
reading a chapter before we go to the 
church?" 

I did so ; it was the fourteenth of the 
book of Job. A sweet tranquillity pre- 
vailed 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 con- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 171 

nectecl them with the case of our depart- 
ed sister. 

"I am but a poor soldier/ 7 said our 
military friend, "and have .nothing of 
this world's goods beyond, my daily sub- 
sistence ; 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 ? Bless- 
ed be God, as I march about from one 
quarter 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. 7 ' 

Some other persons present began to 
take a part in our conversation, in the 
course of which the life and experience 
of the dairyman's daughter were brought 
forward in a very interesting manner. 
Each friend had something to relate in 



172 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

testimony of her gracious disposition. A 
young woman • under twenty, who had 
hitherto been a very light and trifling 
character, appeared to be remarkably 
impressed 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 bet- 
ter part which shall not be taken from 
her. 

What a contrast does such a scene as 
this exhibit, when compared with the 
dull; formal, unedifying, and often inde- 
cent 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 child 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 daugh- 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 1T3 

ter's praises, or rather the praises of 
Him who had made her a vessel of mer- 
cy, 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 de- 
ceased. 

There was much written on her coun- 
tenance. She had evidently died with 
a smile. It still remained, and spoke 
the tranquillity of her departed soul. 
According to the custom of the country, 
she was decorated with leaves and flowers 
in the coffin : she seemed as a bride gone 
forth to meet the bridegroom. These in- 
deed were fading flowers, but they re- 
minded me of that paradise whose flowers 
are immortal, and where her never-dy- 
ing soul is at rest. 

I remembered the last words which I 
had heard her speak, and was instant- 



174 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

ly struck with the happy thought that 
death was indeed "swallowed up in vic- 
tory." 

As I slowly retired, I said inwardly, 
"Peace, my honored 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 fol- 
lowed the coffin being persons 'of a devout 
and spiritual character. The distance 
was rather more than a mile. I resolved 
to continue with and go before them, as 
they moved slowly onwards. 

Immediately after the body came the 
venerable father and mother, bending 
with age, and weeping through much 
affliction of heart. Their appearance 
was calculated to excite every emotion 
of pity, love, and esteem. The other 
relatives followed them in order, and 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 1^5 

the several attendant friends took their 
places behind. 

« After we had advanced about a hun- 
dred yards, my meditation was unex- 
pectedly and most agreeably interrupted 
by the friends who attended beginning 
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 ro- 
mantic. It lay at the foot of a hill, which 
occasionally reechoed the voices of the 
singers, and seemed to give faint replies 
to the notes of the mourners. The fu- 
neral knell was distinctly heard from the 
church tower, and greatly, increased the 
effect which this simple and becoming 
service produced. 

We went by -several cottages: a re- 
spectful attention was universally ob- 



176 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

served as we passed, and the counte- 
nances of many proclaimed their regard 
for the departed young woman. The 
singing was regularly continued, with 
occasional intervals^ of about five min- 
utes, during our whole progress. 

I cannot describe the state of my own 
mind as peculiarly connected with this 
solemn singing. I was reminded of older, 
times and 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 service 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 resurrection, 
the reunited body and soul will enjoy in 
heaven ; but I can hardly persuade my- 
self that melody and harmony will be 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 177 

wanting, when even the sense of hearing 
shall itself be glorified. 

We at length arrived at the church. 
Looking upwards, as I drew near the 
church, I observed a dial on the wall. 
The sun's declining rays directed the 
shadow to the evening hour. As I pass- 
ed underneath this simple but solemn 
monitor, I was reminded of the lapse of 
time, the uncertainty of life, and sure 
approach of eternity. I thought with 
David, "We are strangers before thee, 
and sojourners, as were all our fathers ; 
our clays on the earth are as a shadow, 
and there is none abiding." "So teach 
us to number our days, that ? we may 
apply our hearts unto wisdom." 

The service was heard with deep and 

affectionate attention. When we came 

to the grave, the hymn which Elizabeth 

had selected was sung. All was devout, 

simple, animating. We committed our 
12 



118 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

clear 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 season. She is departed, and no 
more seen, But she will 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 appear there likewise? Are we 
11 clothed with humility/' and arrayed in 
the wedding garment of a Redeemer's 
righteousness ? Are we turned from idols 
to serve ^the living God? Are we sensi- 
ble 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 
with him? Is he our all in all? Are we 
lost, and found? dead, and alive again? 



THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 179 

My poor reader, the dairyman's daugh- 
ter was a pool' girl, and the child of a 
poor man. Herein thou resemblest her ; 
but dost thou, resemble her as she re- 
sembled Christ? Art thou made rich by 
faith? Hast thou a crown laid up for 
thee? Is thy 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 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, possess- 
ing 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." 



180 THE DAIRYMAN'S DAUGHTER. 

Note. 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 dayman died in 1816 y in the 
eighty-fourth year of his age. His end was emi- 
nently Christian. 



f 



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