The Dairymans Daughter | Page 5

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 embowered in fine woods, which
were interspersed in every direction with rising, falling, and swelling
grounds. The manor-house had evidently descended through a long line
of ancestry, from a distant period of time. The Gothic character of its
original architecture was still preserved in the latticed windows,
adorned with carved divisions and pillars of stone-work. Several
pointed terminations also, in the construction of the roof, according to
the custom of our forefathers, fully corresponded with the general
features of the building.
One end of the house was entirely clothed with the thick foliage of an
immense ivy, which climbed beyond customary limits, and embraced a
lofty chimney up to its very summit. Such a tree seemed congenial to

the walls that supported it, and conspired with the antique fashion of
the place to carry imagination back to the days of our 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 an
hand-breadth, and mine age is as nothing before thee: verily every man
at his best state is altogether vanity. Surely every man walketh in a vain
show; surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and
knoweth not who shall gather them" (Psal. xxxix. 5, 6).
Happy would it be for the rich, if they more frequently meditated on the
uncertainty of all their possessions, and the frail nature of every earthly
tenure. "Their inward thought is, that their houses shall continue for
ever, and their dwelling-places to all generations: they call their lands
after their own names. Nevertheless, man being in honour abideth not:
he is like the beasts that perish. This their way is their folly; yet their
posterity approve their sayings. Like sheep they are laid in the grave;
death shall feed on them; and their beauty shall consume in the grave
from their dwelling" (Psal. xlix. 11-14).
As I advanced to the mansion, a pleasing kind of gloom overspread the
front: it was occasioned by the shade of trees, and gave a characteristic
effect to the ancient fabric. I instantly recollected that death had very
recently visited the house, and that one of its present inhabitants was an
affectionate mourner for a departed sister.
There is a solemnity 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 conversation 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 excellency of her general character 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 parlour, where I found her alone. She was in deep
mourning. She had a calmness and serenity in her countenance, which
exceedingly struck me, and impressed some idea of those attainments
which a further acquaintance with her 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 earnest 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 convinced me that her own heart was under the influence of "pure
and undefiled religion."
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 herself 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