At the back of the island is Brixton, called Brighstone, where formerly Bishop Ken and Samuel Wilberforce were rectors. The former was here from July, 1667, to April, 1669, and here composed his famous hymns, while Wilberforce wrote his _Agathos_ under the shelter of the same trees. Another association which must be classified here, though in reality it contains very little of the real "literary" essence in the true sense of that much-abused word, is that of Legh Richmond, curate of Brading in 1809. He wrote the _Annals of the Poor_, of which the best known is _The Dairyman's Daughter_. Why his very mediocre performances should have travelled far and wide over the world, and been translated into numerous languages, is one of the mysteries attaching to books. These writings were merely little tracts written for edification, and without the smallest literary flavour. Yet they are still remembered, and have in the aggregate sold in thousands. The grave of Elizabeth Wallridge, the prototype of the dairyman's daughter, is one of the show spots on the island, and the coaches from Ryde to Carisbrooke make a détour to permit passengers to visit the churchyard at Arreton where it is. Her cottage is also pointed out to wondering visitors, who probably have never heard her name, and go away with the vaguest notion as to what it is all about. Miss Elizabeth Sewell, a prolific writer for girls in the early part of the nineteenth century, lived near Shanklin. Her _Amy Herbert_ was much beloved of girls two generations ago, but would now be considered insufferably tedious. Fielding's account of his landing at Ryde has often been quoted, and, though he was only a visitor, and not a resident, is worth considering. He came by water from Rotherhithe to the island, a voyage that took fifteen days, and he records in his journal: "This day our ladies went ashore at Ryde, and drank their afternoon tea at an alehouse there with great satisfaction; here they were regaled with fresh cream, to which they had been strangers since they left the Downs." The ladies were his wife and daughter and a friend. Fielding himself was at the time very infirm, and there was "between the sea and the land at low water an impassable gulf, if I may so call it, of deep mud, which could neither be traversed by walking or swimming." There were great difficulties. At length, "after being hoisted into a small boat, and being rowed near the shore, I was taken up by two sailors, who waded with me through the mud, and placed me in a chair on the land, whence they conveyed me afterwards a mile further, and brought me to a house." Here the accommodation seems to have been most primitive, and the author's description of it is in much detail. Though Newport was a town when Ryde was a mere collection of huts, the latter now outnumbers the former in residents, and is a fine, large, clean town, with a good pier and handsome shops.