THE DAIRYMAN’S DAUGHTER
A true account by Rev.Legh Richmond of the Isle of Wight (1772–1825)
[Reproduced (with minor editing) from a booklet produced by Academy Books,U.K., 1994, with written permission.]
Part 1 of 2

Preface

It is a delightful employment to trace and discover the operations of divinegrace, as they are manifested in the dispositions and lives of God’s realchildren. It is peculiarly gratifying to observe how frequently, among thepoorer classes of mankind, the sunshine of mercy beams upon the heart, andbears witness to the image of Christ, which the Spirit of God has impressedthereupon. Among such, the sincerity and simplicity of the Christian characterappear unencumbered by those fetters to spirituality of mind and conversationwhich too often prove a great hindrance to those who live in the higher ranks.Many are the difficulties which riches, polished society, worldly importance,and high connections throw in the way of religious profession. Happy indeed itis, (and some such happy instances I know), where grace has so strikinglysupported its conflict with natural pride, self-importance, the allurements ofluxury, ease, and worldly opinions, that the noble and mighty appear adornedwith genuine poverty of spirit, self-denial, humble-mindedness, and deepspirituality of heart.

But in general, if we want to see religion in its purest character, we mustlook for it among the poor of this world, who are rich in faith. How often isthe poor man’s cottage the palace of God! Many of us can truly declare that wehave there learned our most valuable lessons of faith and hope, and therewitnessed the most striking demonstrations of the wisdom, the power, and thegoodness of God.

Introduction

The character, which the present narrative is designed to introduce to thenotice of my readers, is given from real life and circumstance. I first becameacquainted with the dairyman’s daughter by the reception of a letter, a part ofwhich I transcribe from the original, now before me.

Rev. Sir,

I take the liberty to write to you. Pray excuse me, for I have never spoken toyou. But I once heard you preach at Arreton church. I believe you are afaithful preacher, to warn sinners to flee from the wrath that will be revealedagainst all those that live in sin and die impenitent. I was much rejoiced tohear of those marks of love and affection which you showed to that poor soldierof the S.D. militia. Surely the love of Christ sent you to that poor man; maythat love ever dwell richly in you by faith. May it constrain you to seek thewandering souls of men, with the fervent desire to spend and be spent for Hisglory.

Sir, be fervent in prayer with God for the conviction and conversion ofsinners. He has promised to answer the prayer of faith, that is put up in HisSon’s name. “Ask what you will, and it shall be granted you.” Through faith inChrist we rejoice in hope, and look up in expectation of that time drawingnear, when all shall know and fear the Lord, and when a nation shall be born ina day.

What a happy time, when Christ’s kingdom shall come! Then shall His will bedone on earth, as it is in heaven. Men shall be daily fed with the manna of hislove, and delight themselves in the Lord all the day long. Sir, I began towrite this on Sunday, being detained from attending on public worship. My dearand only sister, living as a servant with Mrs —, was so ill that I came here toattend in her place, and on her. But now she is no more.

She expressed a desire to receive the Lord’s Supper, and commemorate Hisprecious death and sufferings. I told her, as well as I was able, what it wasto receive Christ into her heart; but as her weakness of body increased, shedid not mention it again. She seemed quite resigned before she died. I do hopeshe has gone from a world of death and sin to be with God for ever.

My sister expressed a wish that you might bury her. The Minister of our parish,whither she will be carried, cannot come. She died on Tuesday morning, and willbe buried on Friday or Saturday, whichever is most convenient to you, at threeo’clock in the afternoon. Please to send an answer by the bearer, to let meknow whether you can comply with this request.

From your unworthy servant,
Elizabeth Wallbridge.

I was much struck with the simple and earnest strain of devotion, which theletter breathed. It was but indifferently written and spelt, but this therather tended to endear the hitherto unknown writer, as it seemedcharacteristic of the union of humbleness of station with eminence of piety. Ifelt quite thankful that I was favoured with a correspondent of thisdescription; the more so, as such characters were, at that time, very rare inthe neighbourhood. As soon as it was read, I required who was the bearer of it.“He is waiting at the outside of the gate, sir,” was the reply.

The Dairyman

I went out to speak to him and saw a venerable old man, whose long hoary hairand deeply wrinkled countenance commanded more than common respect. He wasresting his arm and head upon the gate, and tears were streaming down hischeeks. On my approach he made a low bow, and said, “Sir, I have brought you aletter from my daughter; but I fear you will think us very bold in asking youto take so much trouble.”

“By no means,” I replied; “I shall be truly glad to oblige you and any of yourfamily in this 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 fromhere. I have rented a few acres of ground, and kept a few cows, which, inaddition to my day labour, has been my means of supporting and bringing up myfamily.”

“What family have you?”

“A wife, now getting very aged and helpless, two sons, and one daughter; for myother poor dear child is just departed 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 hersister; but I do believe that her sister’s manner of taking with her before shedied was the means of saving her soul. What a mercy it is to have such a childas mine is! I never thought about my own soul seriously till she, poor girl,begged me to flee from the wrath to come.”

“How old are you?”

“Nearly seventy, and my wife is older. We are getting old and almost past ourlabour; but our daughter has left a good place, where she lived in service, onpurpose to come home, and take care of us and our little dairy. And a dear,dutiful, affectionate girl she is.”

“Was she always so?”

“No, sir; when she was very young, she was all for the world, and pleasure anddress and company. Indeed, we were all very ignorant, and thought, if we tookcare for this life, and wronged nobody, we should be sure to go to heaven atlast. My daughters were both wilful, and, like ourselves, were strangers to theways of God and the Word of His grace. But the eldest of them went out toservice; and some years ago she heard a sermon preached at — church, and fromthat time she became quite an altered creature. She began to read the Bible,and became quite sober and steady. The first time she came home afterwards tosee us, she brought us a guinea which she had saved from her wages, and said,as we were getting old, she was sure we would want help; adding, that she didnot wish to spend it in fine clothes, as she used to do, only to feed pride andvanity. She would rather show gratitude to her dear father and mother; andthis, she said, because Christ had shown such mercy to her.

“We wondered to hear her talk, and took great delight in her company, for hertemper and behaviour were so humble and kind, she seemed so desirous to do usgood both in soul and body, and was so different from what we had ever seen herbefore, that, careless and ignorant as we had been, we began to think theremust be something real in religion, or it never could alter a person so much ina little time. Her younger sister, poor soul, used to laugh and ridicule her atthat time, and said her head was turned with her new way. ‘No, sister,’ shewould say, ‘not my head, but I hope my heart is turned from the love of sin tothe love of God. I wish you may one day see, as I do, the danger and vanity ofyour present condition.’ Her poor sister would reply, ‘I do not want to hearany of your preaching: I am no worse than other people, and that is enough forme.’ ‘Well, sister,’ Elizabeth would say, ‘if you will not hear me, you cannothinder me from praying for you, which I do with all my heart.’

“And now, sir, I believe those prayers are answered. For when her sister wastaken ill, Elizabeth went to wait in her place and take care of her. She said agreat deal to her about her soul, and the poor girl began to be so deeplyaffected, and sensible of her past sin, and so thankful for her sister’s kindbehaviour; that it gave her great hopes indeed for her sake. When my wife and Iwent to see her as she lay sick, she told us how grieved and ashamed she was ofher past life; but said she had a hope, through grace, that her dear sister’sSaviour would be her Saviour too; for she saw her own sinfulness, felt her ownhelplessness, and only wished to cast herself upon Christ as her hope andsalvation.

“And now, sir, she is gone, and I hope and think her sister’s prayers for herconversion to God have been answered. The Lord grant the same for her poorfather’s and mother’s sake likewise.”

This conversation was a very pleasing commentary upon the letter, which I hadreceived, and made me anxious both to comply with the request and to becomeacquainted with the writer. I promised the good old dairyman I would attend thefuneral on Friday, at the appointed hour; and after some more conversationrespecting his own state of mind under the present trial, he went away.

He was a reverend old man; his furrowed cheeks, white locks, weeping eyes, bentshoulders, and feeble gait were characteristic of the aged pilgrim: and as heslowly departed, supported by a stick which seemed to have been the companionof many a long year, a train of reflections occurred which I retrace withemotion and pleasure.

A Funeral

At the appointed hour I arrived at the church; and after a little while wassummoned to meet, at the church-yard gate, a very decent funeral procession.The aged parents, the elder brother and the sister, with other relatives,formed an affecting group. I was struck with the humble, pious, and pleasingcountenance of the young woman from whom I received the letter; it bore themarks of great seriousness without affectation, and of much serenity mingledwith a glow of devotion.

A circumstance occurred during the burial service which I think it right tomention. A man of the village, who had hitherto been of a very careless andeven profligate character, came into the church through mere curiosity, andwith no better purpose than that of a vacant gazing at the ceremony. He camelikewise to the grave, and during the burial service his mind received a deep,serious conviction of his sin and danger through some of the expressionscontained therein. It was an impression that never wore off, but graduallyripened into the most satisfactory evidence of an entire change, of which I hadmany and long continued proofs. He always referred to the burial service, andto some particular sentences of it, as the clearly ascertained instrument ofbringing him, through grace, to the knowledge of the truth.

The day was therefore one to be remembered. Remembered let it be by those wholove to hear “the short and simple annals of the poor.”

Was there not a manifest and happy connection between the circumstance thatprovidentially brought the serious and the careless to the same grave on thatday together? How much do they lose, who neglect to trace the leadings of Godin Providence as links in the chain of His eternal purpose of redemption andgrace!

“While infidels may scoff, let us adore.”

After the service was concluded, I had a short conversation with the good oldcouple and their daughter. Her aspect and address were highly interesting. Ipromised to visit their cottage; and from that time became well acquainted withthem. Let us bless the Lord of the poor, and pray continually that the poor maybecome rich in faith, and the sick be made poor in spirit.

A sweet solemnity often possesses the mind while retracing past intercoursewith departed friends. How much is this increased when they were such as livedand died in the Lord! The remembrance of former scenes and conversations withthose who, we believe, are now enjoying the uninterrupted happiness of a betterworld fills the heart with pleasing sadness, and animates the soul with thehopeful anticipation of a day when the glory of the Lord shall be revealed inthe assembling of all His children together, never more to be separated.Whether they were rich or poor, while on earth, it is a matter of triflingconsequence; the valuable part of their character is, that they are now kingsand priests unto God. In the number of departed believers, with whom I onceloved to converse on the grace and glory of the kingdom of God, was thedairyman’s daughter. I purpose now to give some further account of her, andhope it may be useful to every reader.

A Pastoral Visit afterthe Funeral

A few days after the funeral of the younger sister, I rode over to visit thefamily in their own cottage. The principal part of the road lay through retirednarrow lanes, beautifully overarched with groves of nut and other trees, whichscreened the traveller from the rays of the sun, and afforded many interestingobjects for admiration in the beautiful flowers, shrubs, and young trees, whichgrew upon the high banks on each side of the road. Many grotesque rocks, withlittle streams of water occasionally breaking out of them, varied the reclusescenery, and produced a new, romantic, and pleasing effect.

Here and there the more distant and rich prospect beyond appeared through gapsand hollow places on the roadside. Lofty hills, with navy signal posts,obelisks, and lighthouses on their summits, appeared at these intervals; richcornfields were also visible through some of the open places; and now and then,when the road ascended any hill, the sea, with ships at various distances,opened delightfully upon me. But for the most part, shady seclusion andbeauties of a more minute and confined nature gave a character to the journey,and invited contemplation. How much do they lose who are strangers to seriousmeditation on the wonders and beauties of nature! How gloriously the God ofcreation shines in His works! Not a tree, or a leaf or flower; not a bird, orinsect, but proclaims in glowing language, “God made me.”

As I approached the village where the good old dairyman dwelt, I observed himin a little field, driving a few cows before him toward a yard and hovel, whichadjoined his cottage. I advanced very near him without his observing me, forhis sight was dim. On my calling out to him, he started at the sound of myvoice, but with much gladness of countenance welcomed me, saying, “Bless yourheart, sir, I am very glad you are come; we have looked for you every day thisweek.”

The cottage door opened, and the daughter came out, followed by her aged andinfirm mother. The sight of me naturally brought to recollection the grave atwhich we had before met. Tears of affection mingled with the smile ofsatisfaction with which I was received by these worthy cottagers. I dismounted,and was conducted through a very neat little garden, part of which was shadedby two large, overspreading elm trees, to the house. Decency and cleanlinesswere manifest within and without.

This, thought I, is a fit residence for purity, peace, and contentment. May Ilearn a fresh lesson in each, through the blessing of God, on this visit.

“Sir,” said the daughter, “we are not worthy that you should come under ourroof. We take it very kind that you should come so far to see us.”

“My Master,” I replied, “came a great deal further to visit us poor sinners. Heleft the bosom of His Father, laid aside His glory, and came down to this lowerworld on a visit of mercy and love; and ought not we, if we profess to followHim, to bear each other’s infirmities, and go about doing good as He did?”

The old man now came in, and joined his wife and daughter in giving me acordial welcome. Our conversation soon turned to the late loss they hadsustained; and the pious and sensible disposition of the daughter was peculiarlymanifested as well in what she said to her parents as in what she said to me. Iwas struck with the good sense and agreeable manner which accompanied herexpressions of devotedness to God, and love to Christ for the great mercieswhich He had bestowed upon her. She seemed anxious to improve the opportunityof my visit to the best purpose, for her own and her parents’ sake; yet therewas nothing of unbecoming forwardness, no self-consequence or conceitedness inher behaviour. She united the firmness and earnestness of the Christian withthe modesty of the female and the dutifulness of the daughter. It wasimpossible to be in her company and not observe how truly her temper andconversation adorned the evangelical principles which she professed.

I soon discovered how eager and how successful also she had been in herendeavours to bring her father and mother to the knowledge and experience ofthe truth. This is a lovely circumstance in the character of a young Christian.If it hath pleased God, in the free dispensations of His mercy, to call thechild by His grace, while the parents remain still in ignorance and sin, howgreat is the duty of that child to do what is possible for the conversion ofthose to whom it owes its birth! Happy is it when the ties of grace sanctifythose of nature.

This aged couple evidently looked upon and spoke of their daughter as theirteacher and admonisher in divine things, while they received from her everytoken of filial submission and obedience, testified by continual endeavours toserve and assist them to the utmost in the little concerns of the household.

The religion of this young woman was of a highly spiritual character, and of noordinary attainment. Her views of the divine plan in saving the sinner wereclear and scriptural. She spoke much of the joys and sorrows, which, in thecourse of her religious progress, she had experienced; but she was fullysensible that there is far more in real religion than mere occasionaltransition from one frame of mind and spirit to another. She believed that theexperimental acquaintance of the heart with God principally consisted in soliving upon Christ by faith as to seek to live like Him by love. She knew thatthe love of God towards the sinner, and the path of duty prescribed to thesinner, are both of an unchangeable nature. In a believing dependence on theone, and an affectionate walk in the other, she sought and found “the peace ofGod which passeth all understanding”; “for so He giveth His beloved rest.” Shehad read but few books besides her Bible; but these few excellent in theirkind, and she spoke of their contents as one who knew their value. In additionto a Bible and Common Prayer-Book, Doddridge’sRise and Progress,Romaine’s Life, Walk, and Triumph of Faith, Bunyan’sPilgrim’sProgress, Alleine’s Alarm, Baxter’s Saints EverlastingRest, a hymn-book, and a few Tracts, composed her library.

I observed in her countenance a pale and delicate look, which I afterwardsfound to be a presage of consumption; and the idea then occurred to me that shewould not live many years. In fact, it pleased God to take her hence about ayear and a half after I first saw her.

Time passed on swiftly with this little interesting family; and after havingpartaken of some plain and wholesome refreshments, and enjoyed a few hours’conversation with them, I found it necessary for me to return homewards.

“I thank you, sir,” said the daughter, “for your Christian kindness to me andmy friends. I believe the blessing of the Lord has attended your visit, and Ihope I have experienced it to be so. My dear father and mother will, I am sure,remember it, and I rejoice in an opportunity, which we have never beforeenjoyed, of seeing a serious minister under this roof. My Saviour has beenabundantly good to me in plucking me ‘as a brand from the burning,’ and showingme the way of life and peace; and I hope it is my heart’s desire to live to Hisglory. But I long to see these dear friends enjoy the comfort and power ofreligion also.”

“I think it evident,” I replied, “that the promise is fulfilling 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 tothe light.”

“I do, sir; yet when I think of my own unworthiness and insufficiency, Irejoice with trembling.”

“Sir,” said the good old man, “I am sure the Lord will reward you for thiskindness. Pray for us that, old as we are, and sinners as we have been, yet Hewould have mercy upon us at the eleventh hour. Poor Betsy strives hard for oursakes, both in body and soul; she works hard all day to save us trouble and Ifear has not strength to support all she does; and then she talks to us, andreads 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.”

“Peace be to you, and all that belong 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. Many other visits were afterwards made by me to this peacefulcottage, and I always found increasing reason to thank God for the intercourseI enjoyed. I soon perceived that the health of the daughter was rapidly on thedecline. The pale, wasting consumption, which is the Lord’s instrument forremoving so many thousands every year from the land of the living, made hastystrides on her constitution. The hollow eye, the distressing cough, and theoften too flattering red on the cheek, foretold the approach of death. I haveoften thought what a field for usefulness and affectionate attention on thepart of ministers and Christian friends is opened by the frequent attacks andlingering progress of consumptive illness. How many such precious opportunitiesare daily lost, where Providenceseems in so marked a way to afford time and space for serious and godlyinstruction. Of how many may it be said, “The way of peace have they notknown”; for not one friend came nigh, to warn them to “flee from the wrath tocome.”

But the dairyman’s daughter was happily made acquainted with the things, whichbelonged to her everlasting peace before the present disease had taken root inher constitution. In my visit to her, I might be said rather to receiveinformation than to impart it. Her mind was abundantly stored with divinetruths and her conversation was truly edifying. The recollection of it stillproduces a thankful sensation in my heart.

Part 2 of 2