The dairyman's daughter : an authentic narrative

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
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Digitized by the' Internet Archive

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. 0
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 parents7
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 wras glad when they said
unto me, Let us go into the house of the
Lord. Our feet shall stand within thy
gates, 0 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, 0 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-
ents7 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 wreak-
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 men7s 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
parents7 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 wayr 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 poet7s 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 man7s 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?
0 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. 0 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 7s gone.
My daughter 's dead. 0 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 1816y in the
eighty-fourth year of his age. His end was emi-
nently Christian.

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