“I am but a poor soldier,” said our military friend, “and have nothing of this world’s goods beyond my daily subsistence; but I would not exchange my hope of salvation in the next world for all that this world could bestow without it. What is wealth without grace? Blessed be God! as I march about from one 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.”
Some other persons present began to take apart 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 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 reason to believe that Divine grace then began to influence her in the choice of that better part, which shall not be taken from her.
What a contrast does such a scene as this exhibit, when compared with the dull, formal, unedifying, and often indecent manner in which funeral parties assemble in the house of death!
As we conversed, the parents revived. Our subject of discourse was delightful to their hearts. Their 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 daughter’s praises; or rather the praises of Him who had made her a vessel of mercy, and an instrument of spiritual good to her family.
The time for departing was now at hand.
I went to take my last look at the deceased. There was much written on her countenance.She had evidently died with a smile. It still remained, and spoke the tranquillity of her 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, indeed, were fading flowers, but they reminded me of that paradise whose flowers are immortal, and where her never-dying soul is at rest.
I remembered the last words which I had heard her speak, and was instantly struck with the happy thought that “death was indeed swallowed up in victory.”
As I slowly retired, I said inwardly, “Peace, my honoured sister, be tothymemory and tomysoul, till we meet in a better world.”
In a little time, the procession formed: it was rendered the more interesting by the consideration of so many that followed the 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,[116]bending with age, and weepingthrough much affection of heart. Their appearance was calculated to excite every emotion of pity, love, and esteem. The other relatives followed them in order, and the several attendant friends took their places behind.
After we had advanced about a hundred yards, my meditation was unexpectedly and most agreeablyinterrupted, 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 romantic. It lay at the footof a hill, which occasionally re-echoed the voices of the singers, and seemed to give faint replies to the notes of the mourners. The funeral-knell was distinctly heard from the church tower, and increased the effect which this simple and becoming service produced.
We went by several cottages; a respectful attention was universally observed as we passed: and the countenances of many proclaimed their regard for the departed young woman. The singing was regularly continued, with occasional intervals of about five minutes, during our whole progress.
I cannot describe the state of my own mind as peculiarly connected with this solemn singing. I never witnessed a similar instance before or since. I was reminded of elder 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 myself that melody and harmony will be wanting,when even the sense of hearing shall itself be glorified.
We arrived at the church. 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 dear sister’s body to the earth, in full hope of a joyful resurrection.
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 Redeemer at the last day; and will again appear to his glory, a miracle of grace and a monument of mercy.
My reader, rich or poor, shall you and I appear there likewise? Are we “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 sensible of our own emptiness, and therefore flying to a Saviour’s fulness to obtain grace and strength? Do we indeed live in Christ, and on Him, and by Him, and with Him? Is He our all in all? Are we “lost and found,” “dead and alive again?”
Mypoorreader, the Dairyman’s daughter was apoorgirl, and the child of apoorman. Hereinthou resemblest her; but dost thou resembleheras she resembled Christ? Art thou made rich by faith? Hast thou a crown laid up for thee? Is thine heart set upon heavenly riches? If not, read this story once more, and then pray earnestly for like precious faith?
But if, through grace, thou dost love and serve the Redeemer that saved the Dairyman’s daughter, grace, peace, and mercy be with thee! The lines are fallen unto thee in pleasant places! thou hast a goodly heritage. Press forward in duty, and wait upon the Lord, possessing thy soul in holy patience. Thou hast just been with me to the grave of a departed believer. Now, “go thy way, till the end be; for thou shalt rest, and stand in thy lot at the end of the days.”
[116]An interesting account of a visit made to the Dairyman, appeared in theChristian Guardianfor October 1813, and which is here inserted:—
“It has rarely, if ever, fallen to my lot to trace the gracious dealing of God with greater advantage or delight, than in the narrative of the Dairyman’s Daughter: and as the Isle of Wight had evidently furnished the author with the scenery he has so finely touched, I concluded that the pious subject of the little memoir had resided there, and determined that, when I next visited that delightful spot, I would make inquiry respecting her. At the close of April last year, I had occasion to go there. At the village of B--- I had the good fortune to learn her name, and the situation of the cottage that had been honoured with her residence and death; and being told that the old man, her father, whose name is W---, still lived there, I determined to find out his humble dwelling, and obtain an interview with the aged Dairyman.
“It was with feelings not to be described that I visited the spot which had been so peculiarly honoured by the gracious presence of the Most High. On inquiry, I found that Elizabeth W--- died about eleven years ago; that her mother followed her in the same year; that one of her brothers (whom I did not see) lived in the same cottage; and that her father was about eighty years of age. The venerable old man appeared to wonder at the feelings of a stranger, but seemed thankful for my visit, and wept as I made past scenes again pass before his view. I was happy to find that his hopes were built upon the Rock of Ages; that his sure trust was in the Redeemer of sinners. We talked of the kind attentions of the Rev. Mr ---, of the happy death of Elizabeth, of the wondrous grace of God; and when I bade him farewell, and reminded him how soon he would again see his daughter, not, indeed, encompassed with infirmity, and depressed with disease, but “shining as the sun in the firmament,” the poor old man wept plentifully, and little would he be to be envied who could have refrained. I looked back on the cottage until it could no longer be seen, and then went on my way rejoicing.
“On the third of November last, being again in that district, I had the pleasure of repeating my visit to the good old Dairyman, who immediately recollected me. He told me many persons had been to see him since my former call, but he believed they were strangers, not inhabitants of the island. He appeared much weaker than before, and evidently drawing nearer to his rest. Whether he is still living, I know not; but it is probable I shall see him no more.”—The pious old Dairyman lived three years after this visit: he departed in the hope of meeting his gracious Redeemer.
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