■ / 'JsC* C*- 2S ‘ THE S* ‘S Sy

Young Cottager:

OR, AN

ACCOUNT OF

JANE SEYMOUR,

The Daughter of ignorant and irreligious Parents.

his Tale illustrates the advantages of early piety, by giving Sa minute account of the Young Cottager’s conversion;—her

illness;—the consolations she derived from her spiritual con- versations with a pious Minister;—and her calmness and

iresignation in the hour of death.

KILMARNOCK, i

Printed by H. Cranford, BooffseUer,

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Or .^OinjruB0

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THE

YOUNG COTTAGER.

was the daughter of poor parents; TANK ts in the village where it pleased God first t< cast my lot in "the ministry, My acquatntanct

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with her commenced when she was twelve yean ; of age, by her weekly attendance at my house amongst a number of children whom I invited; and regularly instructed, every Saturday evening

They used to read, repeat catechisms, psalms;

hymns, and pottions of Scripture. I accustomed them also to pass examination, according to their age and ability, in those subject$| by which I hoped to see them wise unto salvation.

On the summer evenings, I frequently used tc assemble this little group out of doors in; nay gar- den, sitting under the shade of some trees, which protected us from the heat of the sup. Fronr hence a scene appeared, which rendered my oc- cupation tile more interesting. For, adjoining the spot where we sat, and only separated from u; by a fence, was the church-yard, surrounded with beautiful prospects tn every direction.

Little Jane used constantly to appear on these weeklv seasons of instruction. I made no verj particular observations concerning her during the first twelve months or more after her first com mencement of attendance. She was not then re: markable for any peculiar attainment. On tb

2 I whole, l used to think her rather more slo-iy ot ,i apprehension than spme of her companions. She i usually repeated her tasks correctly, but w'.as §el- |dpm able to make any answers to such questions as she was not previously prepare/) to reply tg. Jier countenance was not engaging, her eye ex- ihibited no observable liveliness, bhe read tp]er- iably we}l tpok pams, and improved in it.

Jdildnesf an4 quietness marked hfr general de?

meaner. She was very constant m her attendance pn public worship at the church, gs well as on jny iSaturtjuy school at hpme. But, generally fcpeak-

■jifng, she was little noticed, .ejepept for her regular •find orderly conduct- Had j tken been asked of thich pf my young schplarfi J had formed the

ost favourable opinion, poor Jane might probably agve been oniittpd jq the list.

I Once, indeed, during the latter part of ljut • rear, I was struck vyhh her ready attention to my iivishes.—-J had &ent Itpr into the church-yard to ommit tornepory an epitaph jyhicb I admired.— )n her return jshe told me, thgt in addition to what

: had desired, she had also learned another m- • ’pribed on an adjoining stone^ addling that she

fought it a very pretty‘one, it is as /oTlpws.

I Ft must be so—Our Fattier Adam’s fall | And disobedience brought this lot on all.

Ali die in liim>—But hofclf-as (Should W* be> I Blest p.e.vtlati|Dhi! were it not for t^e.

f I , HaiJ, jglorj.otjs gospeli beaveuTy'ligjit, whereby ( "'.ye live with comfort, and with comfort die; ; And view-beyond this gloomy scene, the tomb, •* ,

‘ A life of endless happiness to come.

IJ afterwards discovered that the evangelical |j|ntin)ent expressed in the latter epitaph had naudi

ected her. But r;1 tfi? period of this little in$l-

dent, I knew nothing of her mind. I had com- paratively overlooked her. I have otfen been very sorry for it since.

I was young myself in the ministry, and younger in Christian experience.

I was then quite a learner, and had much to learn.

And what am I how ?—A learner still, and if I had learned any thing, it is this, That I have every day more and more yet to learn.

Of this I am certain, that my yOilng scholar; soon became my teacher. I first saw what true . religion could accomplish in witnessing her ex perience of it. The Lord once ‘ called a little; child unto him, and set him in the midst of his disciples,’ as an emblem and illustration of hi doctrine. But the Lord did more in the case o little Jane! He not only called her, as a child to show, by a similitude, what conversion means but he also called her by his grace to be a vesse- of mercy, and a living witness , of that Almightj power and love by which her own heart was cont j, verted to God.

It was about fifteen months from the first peric of her attendance on my Saturday school, whei I missed her customary place. Two or thre weeks had passed without my making any part: cular inquiry respecting her. I was at length ir formed that she was not well. However, appn bending no peculiar cause for alarm, near tw months passed without mention of her name beir made.

At length a poor old woman in the, villag whose religious,disposition I had good hopes, can and said to me, sir, hava you not missed Jai g - - - at your house on Saturday afternoont

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' Yes, I replied, I believe she is not well.-,, * Nor ever will be, I fear, said the old woman, i What! do you- apprehend any danger in the

!las<V Sir, she is very poorly indeed, and I think is in

11 decline. She wants to see you, sir, but is afraid dou would not come to see such a poor and young ! .hild as she is..

^ Not go, where poverty, youth, and distress may |all me ! How can she imagine so? At which

i;j.ouse does she live ? .]}<;; ; Sir, it is a poor place, and she is ashamed to Isk.you to come there. Her near neighbours are

; oisy, wicked people, and her own father and ! mother are strange folks. They all make game

t poor Jenny, because she reads her Bible so ? BWph.

Do not tell me about poor places and wicked jieople: that is the very situation where a minister

:i f the Gospel may be called to do most good. I !:hall call to see her. You may let her know my rtention.

I will sir, I go in most days to speak to her, nd it does one’s heart good to heap her talk.

Indeed ! said I; what does she talk about ? Talk about, poor child ! why nothing but good

'aings, such as the Bible, and Jesus Christ, and ife, and death, and her soul, and heaven, and hetlj

d your discourses, and the books you used td ^ach her, sir. Her father says, and her own other snibbs at her, and says, she supposes Jenn,y ounts herself better than other folks... But she es not mind all that. She; will read her books, d talks so pretty to her mother, ai)d begs she

ill think about her soul. The Lord forgive me, thought I, fop not being

inore attehtivfe to thie po6t child's case^ I se^Wcd to feel !h6 iWportance 6f ihfantind instructions ft ItidfO than ever I had done beforej and felt a rising (Ki hppe that this girl might prove a kind of first fruits r: of n\y labodrs.

’ I retired Into my Cldset and prayed. I thanked God for the IHtelligehde I had jUSt received, and r Sought his blessing on my own sOul, and that olf h little Jade.

I how recollected her tjuiet, orderly, diligent? r; attendance on our little school meetings; and her > marked approbation of the epitaph, as formerly n? mentioned, rushed into my thoughts. I hope, I really hope, Said I, this dear little child will provi a fchlld of God. And if so, what a mercy to her afld what A mercy to me.

The next morning I went to see the child. H dwelling Was of the hufnblest kiftd; it stood against a high bank of earth, which formed a sort if garden behind it.

Jafte was in bed up stairs. I found no one in the house with her, except tire woman who had brought me the message on the evening before. The instant I looked on the gitl, I perceived a very marked change in her Countenance; it had acquired the consumptive hue, both white and • ted. A delicacy unknown to it before quite sur- prised me, owing to the alteration it produced inj hcv look. She received me first with a very sweet smile, and then instantly burst into a flood of tears,, just sobbing out.-—I am so glad to see you, sir.

I am very much concerned at your being so ill, my child, turd grieved that 1 was not sooner aware of your state. But I hope tire Lord designs it for your good. Her eyes, not her tongue, powerfully expressed, I hope and think he docs.

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Well, my poor child, since you can fto longer come to see me, I Will come dnd see yOU, and we kill talk <wer the subjects which I hate been used 0 explain to you.

Indeed, sir, I shall be so glad. That I bdleVe She will, saM the old woman,

(Of she loves tb talk of nothing so much ds what he has heard you say in your sermons, and ill the iooks you have given her.

Are you really desirous, my deaf child, to be a ! rue Christian. > O ! yes, yes, sir, I am Sure I desire that above 11 things.

1 I was astonished and delighted at the earneSf- ;:i:Ss and simplicity with which she spoke these iWds.

Sir, added she, I have been thinking as I lay my bed for many weeks past, how good you

fie to instruct us poor children: what must be- iijifnc Of us without it. !; I am truly glad to perceive, that mv instructions we not been lost upon you, and pray God, that i|ts your present sickness may be an instrument It blessing in his hands, to prove, humble, and MCtify yOu. My dear child, you have a Soul,

•:i|i immortal soul to think of. You remember , fat I have often said to you about the value of

ul. What would it profit a man to gain the foie World and lose his soul.

, sir, I remember well you told us, that n our bodies are put into the grave, our Souls go then either to the good or bad place, lid which Of these places do you think you

erve to go to ? iFer the bad one, sir. What! to hell ? Yes,

to hell. Why so ? Because I am a great

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to hell ? alriner.- And must all great sinners go They all deserve it, and 1 am sure I do.

But is there no way of. escape ? Is there, no way for a great sinner to be saved ?

Yes, sir; Christ is the Saviour. And whom does he save ? All believers.

I wish I did ; but I feel I do not know, sir; that I love him. r •

What do you love him for ? , Because he is good to .poor children’s

like mine. . What has he done for you.

He died For me, sir; and what could he do

souls .

more ? And. what do you hope to gain by his death ? A good place when I die, if I believe in him

and love l^im. ■ . • Have you felt any uneasiness on account of

your soul? O ! yes, sir, a great deal. When you used to

talk to us children on Saturdays, I often felt as if I could hardly bear if, and. wondefed that others! of them could seem so c r Jess. I thought I urai not fit to die.- I thought of ali the bad things E had ever dcyie and said, and believed God must be very angry with me; for you often told us, that God would not be mocked, and that if w*e were not converted we could not go to heaven. Some times I thought I was so young it did not signify and then again it seemed to. me a great sip .to thinll so ; for I knew I was old enough to see. what wai right and what v/as wrong; and so God had a jus: right to be angry, when I did wrong. Besides I could see that my heart was not right; and hov could such a heart be fit for heaven ? Indeed sir, I used to feel very miserable.

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! I My dear- Jenny, -I w-i'sh l had known all thU > bfore. Why did you never tell me about it. I(f Sir, I durst not. Indeed I could not well say i rhat was the matter with me ; and I thought you :i(rould look upon me as very told if I had spoke !) such a gentleman as you about myself; yeti ften wished that you knew what I felt and feared, ometimes, as I went away from your house, I iould not help crying; and then the other chil- iren laughed and jeered at me, and said I was oing to be very good, they supposed, or at least to

i hake people think so. Sometimes, sir, I fancied ou did not think so well of me as of the rest, and iiat hurt me; yet I knew I deserved no particular iivour, because I was the chief of sinners.

My dear, what made St Paul says he was the hief of sinners!—What text belongs to that ord, the chief of sinners.

This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world

> o save sinners.’ Is not that right, sir ? ■r' Yes, my child, it is right; and I hope that the

iwiame feeling which St Paul had at that moment iiaas convinced you of the same truth. Christ came /into the world to save sinners. My dear child, li emember now and for evermore, that Christ came 'tinto the world to save the chief of sinners.

Sir, I am so glad he did, it makes me hope that e will save me, though I am a poor sinful girl, ir, I am very ill, and I do not think I shall ever ;et over it. 1 want to go to Christ if I die.

What made you first think so seriously about our soul ?

Your talking about the graves in the church- liprd, and telling us how many young children j’were buried there. I remember you said one day,

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Hear twelre months ago, ‘ ClvUdren ! wKera wit ye be an hundred years hence ? Children ! wherjs do you think ,you,shall go when you di$ ? Chil 'f. flren! if you were to die to-night, are you S'Mf ^ you should go to Christ and be happy ? Sk, t n eball never forget your sayiug ( chiidreu'’ thret v *9,cues together in that solemn way. After a litth ;j payse she said, Q ! sir, I wish you would spoalf to my father aud mother, and Iktle brother, foi J am afraid they are going on very badly, How SO? Sir, they drink, and swgau, and quarrel, a^i ff do net jiky avljat is good ; aod it does grtevo.rOC tv so, I caiujot hear it. If I speak a word to tltersi abpuj: it they arg yery angry, and laugh, and bid • me be quiet, and not set up for their teacher. As j J returned homo, wy heart glowed with thankful flees for what I had seen and heard. JLiptle Jane j* appeared to be the first fruits of my paropldal aud spiritual harvest. One mqrfling when I arrived at the cottage, I found her jfl bed, she said, dp « you think God will pardon me, sir ? My deaf i child, I have great hopes thar he has pardoned you; that he has heerd your prayers, and put you: into the pumbor of his chddrw .already. Xoi have had strong proofs of his mercy to your soul. Tes, sir, I have ; and I wish to loyo and bless fun? for it. Ho is good ypry good. It had for somP time past occurred to my mind, tbet a course of regulated conversations on the first principles of religion would be very dpslrable, from tiiflC to time, for this interesting child's *?.ke * and I thpvght the Churclr Catechism would be the best ground-work for that purpose. Jenny, said I, you can repeat the Catechism f Vns, sir ; but l think that ho? beep one of my sins in the sight pf God. What I repeating yenr Catephism ; Yes, sir, in

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I ach * xnj as I used to do it. How was that «* *f«ry carelessly indeed. I never thought about Dte meaning of the words, and that mast be very

> rrong. Sir, the Catechism is full of good things ; i'll wish I understood them better, Well then, my ' hild, we wil! talk a little about these good things,

■i: rhich, as you truly say, are contained in the Cate- i hism. Did you ever consider what it is to be a

it member of Christ, a child of God, and an inheritor t f the kingdom of heaven ? I think, sir, I have

itety considered it a good deal; and I want to e such, not only in name, but in deed and in

liuth. You once told me, sir, that as the branch i to the vine, and the stone to the building, and lie limb to the body and the head, so is a true ileliever to the Lord Jesus Christ. But how am a to know that I belong to Christ as a true meni- ('“T, which you said one day in the church, meanT ne same as a limb of the body, Such as a leg or

i;;i arm ? Do you love Christ now in a way you jnever used to do before ? Yes, I think so indeed, ’filthy do you love him ? Because he first loved

te. How do you know that he first loved you i olecause he sent me instruction, and made me fed

ic sin of my heart, and taught me to pray for b'ardon and love his ways. He sent you to teacfi [*e, sir, and to shew me the way to be saved; and tow I want to be saved in that way that he pleases. tmetiir.es I feel as if I loved all that he has said

d done so much, that I wish never to think :ioout any thitig else. I know I did not use to lei so; and I think if he had not loved me first, ly wicked heart would never have cared about

•rim. I once loved any thing better than religion, lit now it is every thing to me. Do you believe

your heart that Christ is able and willing to

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save the chief of sinTlers ? ■ I do. And what are |;i you? A young, but a great sinner. Is it not of )t his mercy that"you know and feel yourself to be; t a sinner? Certainly; yes, it must be so. Do: )r you earnestly desire to forsake all sin ? If I know' p myself, I do. Do you feel a spirit within you re-, sisting sin, and making you hate it ? Yes, I hope- so. Who gave you that Spirit ? was you always- so? It must be Christ who loved me and gave himself for me. I was quite different once. Now jr then, my dear Jane, does not all this show a con- j nection between the Lord Jesus Christ and your’m soul? Does it not seem as if you lived, and moved, and had a spiritual being from him ? Just ]:t; as a limb is connected with your body, and so a; with your head, and thereby gets power to live and move through the flowing of the blood from the one to the other; so are you spiritually a limb or member of Christ, if you believe in him and live to his praise and glory. Do you understand me ? Yes, sir, I believe I do ; and it is very com* fortable to my thoughts to look up to Christ as a living head, and to consider myself as the least and lowest of all his members. Now tell me what your thoughts a"e as to being a child of t God? I am sure} sir, I do . not deserve to bejj called his child. Can you tell me who does de- serve it? No one, sir. How then comes any, one to be a child of God, when by nature we are all children of wrath ? By God’s grace, sir. \\ hat does grace mean!? Favour, free favour to sinners! Right; and.what does God bestowupon the chil dre*n of wirath, when he makes them children of grace; A death unto sin, and'a new birth untf righteousness. Is it not, sir? Yes, this is ths fruit of Christ’s redeeming love; and I hope yob

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are a partaker ot the Messing. The family of God s named after him, and he is the first-born of

i many brethren. Do you kfhow what the ‘ king- (ilom of heaven’ means ? Just at that instant her i mother entered the house below, and began to '4peak to a younger child in a passionate sco’ding

one of voice, accompanied by some very offensive expressions; but quickly stopped on hearing us ' n conversation up stairs. Ah, my poor mother ! : aid the girl, you would not have stopped so short ' f Mr *— had not been here. Sir, you hear

now my mother swears; say something to her; : iihe will not hear vie. I went toward the stair- ; nead and called to the woman; but ashamed at uhe thought of my having probably overheard her Expressions, she suddenly left the house, and for i that time escaped reproof. Sir, said little Jane, I ram so afraid if I go to heaven, I shall nwer see vmy poor mother there, I wish I may; but she }i;does swear so, and keep such bad company. As ill lie here a bed, sir, for hours together, there will i be so much wickedness, and noise, and quarrelling /down below, that I do not know how to bear it. ft comes so near, and is so shocking, sir, when

ymy father and mother go on so. I want them all * (to turn to the Lord, and go to heaven. Tell me, , l>ir, something about being an inheritor of the <;kingdom of heaven. You may remember, my ijjchild, what I said when explaining the Catechism, fidthat the kingdom of heaven < in the Scripture, 9|means the Church of Christ upon earth, as swell as the state of glory in heaven. The one is qp preparation for the other. All true Christians sure heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ, and fu.hall inherit the glory and happiness of his king- iqdom; and live with Christ, and be with him for

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«rer. This is the free gift of God to his adopted it children; and all that believe aright in Christ shall' |i experience the truth of that promise, ‘ It is your' it Father’s good pleaSufe to give you the king- I dom.’ You are a poor girl now, but I trust ‘an t entrance shall be ministered to you abundantly • into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Sav- * iour Jesus Christ.’ You suffer now, but are you tv not willing to suffer for his sake, and to bear pa- h tiently what he calls to you ? O yes, very willing ; !: I w'ould not complain. It is all right. Then, my r dear, you shall reign with him. Through much L tribulation, you may, perhaps, enter into the king- r|;, dom of God; but tribulation worketh patience; and V- patience, experience; and experience, hope. As a i true ‘ member of Christ.’ show yourself to be a » dutiful ‘child of God,’ and your portion will be that of an inheritor in the kingdom of heaven, i Faithful is He that hath promised ; commit thy way unto the Ixird ; trust also in him, and he shall « bring it to pass. Thank you, sir. I do so love ; to hear of these things; and I think, sir, I should not love them so much if 1 had no part in them. . Sir. there is one thing I want to ask you. It is a great thing, and I mav be wrong—I am so young i -—And yet l hone J mean right—Here she hesi- tated and paused. What is it ? do not be fearful of mentioning it. A tear rolled down her cheek —a slight blush coloured her countenance. She i lifted up her eyes to heaven for a moment, and . then fixing them on me, with a solemn affecting j look, said, May so young a poor child as I arr. be admitted to the Sacrament ? I have for some time! ( wished it, but dared not to mention it, for fear you should think it wrong. My dear Jenny, I have no doubt respecting it, and shall be very glad to >

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: iconverse with you on the subject, find hope that i he who has given you desire, will bless his own

5 ordinance to yous’ soul. Would you wish it now, ior tp-morvow ? To-morrow, if you please, sir. i!Wi)l you come to-morrow and talk tome about it ? atid if you think it proper, I shall be thankful.

; f am growing faint now—-1 hope to be better when . you come again. I was much pleased with her i oroposal, and rejoiced at the prospect of seeing so ii young and sincere a Christian thus devote herself j |o the Lord. She was evidently ripening fast for dl better world. The next morning I went to

ane’s cottage. On entering the door, the woman > |vho so frequently visited her met me, and said, t Perhaps, sir, you will not awake her just yet; for

ihe has dropped asleep, and she seldoms gets much slijbst, poor girl. I went gently up stairs. The Jihild was in a half-sitting posture, leaning her ;!i;ead upon her right hand, with her Bible open be- tjlQre her. I approached without waking her, and

• tabsffved that she had been reading the twenty- vnird chapter of St- Lake, She suddenly started tid perceived me, she awoke—.a faint blush over- head her eheek* for a moment, and then disap-

;■ neared. J3ame K——, how long have I been asleep !—.

,r, I am very sorry—And I am very glad to find 14 thus, I replied : you may say with David, ‘ I

d me down and slept; I awaked, lor the Lord __Stained me.’ What were you reading i 'I'he Itory o; the crucifixion of Jesus, sir. How far

1 you read when you fell asleep ? To the yer of the thief that was crucified with him t

4 when I came to that place I stopped, and .ftHpughf what a mercy it would be if the Lord HUisns should remember mg likewise—-and so I fell

' i.i A Su< , fly '■ <

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asleep; and I fansied in my dream that I saw Christ upon the cross ; and I thought I said, Lord, remertiber me—and then I awoke.

Well, my dear child, I am come as you wished me, to administer the sacrament of the body and blood of our blessed Saviour to you ; and dare say neighbour K-*— will be glad to join us. Talk to me a little about it first, sir, if you please. Yotf remember what you have learned in your Cate- chism about it. Let us consider—A sacrament, you know* is ‘ an outward and visible sign of an inward and Spiritual grace given unto us, ordained by Christ himself, as a means whereby we receive the same, and a pledge to assure us thereof.1 Now the Lord has ordained bread and wine in the holy supper, as the outward mark which we behold f with our eyes. It is a sign, a token ; a seal of his I love, grace, and blessing, which he promises to, and bestows on all who receive it, rightly believing on his name and worh. He in this manner pre- serves amongst us ‘ a continual remembrance of his death, and of the benefits which we receive there- by.’ What do you believe respecting the death of Christ, Jenny ? That because he died, sir, we; live. What life do we live thereby ? The life of grace snd mercy now, and the life of glory and1

happiness hereafter; is it not, sir? Ye* assuredly; this is the fruit of the death oflr

Christ; and thus he ‘opened the kingdom or heaven to all believers.’ As bread and winep'i strengthen and refresh your poor weak faintingn body in this very sickness; so does the blessingf'* of his body and blood strengthen and refresh thef souls of all that repose their faith, hope, and affec dons on Him who loved us, and gave himself foi

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us. Sir, said the girl, I can never think about

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i bus and his love to sinners without wondering nw it can be. I deserve nothing but his anger

H account of my sins. Why then does he live ? ' now plain it is, that all his mercy from first to i it; and that sweetens the blessing, child. Are j»u not willing to give Christ all the honour of

iiiur salvation, and to take all the blame of your ns on your own self? Yes, indeed sir, 1 am.

s j. severe fit of coughing interrupted her speech i r a while. The woman held her head. It wa§ 3 stressing to observe her struggle for breath, and : most as it were for life. 1 am better now. Now

Ik to me again about the sacrament. What is i quired, Jenny, of them who come to the Lord’s 5 ipper ? She paused ; and then said with a so- J mn and intelligent look, to examine themselves frhether they repent them truly of their former i.-|ns. The next mentioned in that answer of your (i|atechism, what is it ? Stedfastly purposing to ijfad a new life. What is the next thing men- tioned ? To have a lively faith in God’s mercy cnrough Christ, sir. And lastly, Jenny, are you l:ili charity with all men ? Do you forgive all that (fave offended you ? Do you bear-will in your nseart to any body ? Dear sir, no, how can I ? I1 f God is so good to me, if he forgives me, how nan I help forgiving others ? How do you feel wowards those bold wanton, ill-tempered girls at £he next door, who jeer and mock you so about 3|four religion ? Sir, the worst thing I wish them p, that God may give them grace to repent; that he may change their hearts, and pardon all their

ijvicked ways and words. May he forgive them >s I do with all my soul ? She ceased—I wished jo ask no more. My heart was full. Can this be

iihe religion of a child ? thought I. O,. that all were

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Ilka he?. Reach me that pfftyCr back* 2Jid Che ca; afl£ 4)lata. My dea^ friertdgj I will kc‘Jrf witl God’s blessing, partake tvith you Is th^ hcily co.r^ munion of our Lofd’a Body ftiid biOod. Wheft * COiicludcd the bc'/Vfcef E aaidj NOV/, titf deaf JftiW you are ifldSed OedO'.tie a in the church ot i Christ. May iiis spirit and biissiitg lest dpofl you, siirfngthefl, and refresh youf My mercies Btt - greaty very great, sir, greater than I Can express. . I thank yotf for ihii favOur-^I thought I was tod young—it seemed too much for me to think of: - but t am now sure that the Lord is good to me* ,, and I hope I have done right. Yes, Jertay, arid I trust you are now both outwardly and inwardly Sealed by the Holy Ghost to the day ot redemption. . Sir, I shall never forget this day. Neither, I think, L shall I. Nor I, Said the old woman. The Lofd y has been in the midst of us three to-day, we have been gathered together in his name. Sir, said the Child, I wish yOu could speak to my mother when you come again. Farewell, my child. Good bye, sir and I think you for all your kindness to me. Jane was hastening fast to her dissolution. She still, however, preserved sufficient Strength of voice to convene with much satisfaction to her- self and all who visited her. Thole who cOUld truly estimate the value of her spiritual state of mind were but few; yet the most cureless COuld not help being struck with her eitecfionate se- riousness, her knowledge of the Scriptures, and her happy application of them to her own and other people’s cases. May the eye that reads, and the ear tout heats the record of little Jane, through the power of the Spirit Of the Most High, each become a witness for the truth as it is in Jesus.

I remembered the tender solicitude of this dear

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ihild for her itiother. I well krtew what an awful jijntfast the dispositions and conduct of her parent*

bchibited, when compared with her own. I re- tired to avail myself of the first Opportunity I lOiild Seize to speak to the mother in the child’s

! iresence. The road by which I usually approached 'le house lap fot some little distance sufficiently i sight of the window, to ett'able her cb retire out f the way before I arrived. There was, however, nothef path through fields, at the back of the

i lillage, which, owing to thfe sitliation of the ground lilowcd of an approach unperceived till the visitor ■ached the cottage. One morning soon after the icramental inteiview related above, I Chose this

I liad for my visit. All these things afforded me flSeful meditations; and all obtained an increased

due as such, because they lay in my road to the ijjpUSe of little Jane. I was now arrived at the ilyle nearly adjoining her dwelling. I soon dis- ■ pguished the sound of voices ; I was glad to hear llat of the mother. I entered the house door un-

cerceived by those above stairs, and sat down be- ,W, not wishing as yet to interrupt a conversation jiihich quickly caught my ear. y Mother, I have been wanting to speak to you :dong time. But I was afraid to do it.—“I wish (r ..«■—» was here, for he could talk to you futer than I can. Why did you always go out if the house when you knew tie Was coming ?— i n not be angry with me, mother} I only speak {r your good. I was once as careless as you about i tfr things of God •, but the Lord saw me and had v'tercy upon me. Yes, my child, you was always wood girl, und minded your book. No, mothttr,

jj-, not always. Don’t you remember, mother, (at at first you did not like to let me go, and said

you would have no such godly; pious doings abou: your house.— Ah, mother! you did not know whai I went for, and what God designed for me and my poor sinful soul. But thank God I did go, and there learned the way of salvation. Mother, I wish you had learned it too.

At this moment the house-door opened, and a,, younger child, a brother of Jane’s came in- The mother asked from above who it was •, the boy re- plied, and without farther inquiry $he remained in the chamber. I beckoned to the lad to sit down quietly, and thus it still remaineU unknown thafi^, 1 was below. Mother , continued Jane, chat is my brother, and will soon be your only remaining child. Do pray, encourage him to follow good ways.; Send him to Mr , and he will be kind to him

• as he has been so me. He is a wild boy, but I hope he will be brought to think about his ^oul in time. Those naughty wicked boys teach him to swear and fight, and run after ail manner of evil. Lord help him to flee from the wrath to come * I made a sign to the boy to listen to what his sis ter said concerning him. He seemed to hear with attention, and a tear dropped down his cheek.

Aye, Jenny, it is to be hoped he will, and that we all shall likewise.

Mother, then you must flee to Christ. Nothing you can do will save you without that. I now thought i» time to appear, and going to the bottom, of the stairs, said, may a friend come up ? Mercv on me! said the mother, there is Mr — 7 — Come in, sir, said Jane, I am very glad you are come no'ip -r-Mother set a chair. The woman looked confused. Jane smiled as I entered, and welcomed me as usual. I hope I shall be forgiven both by mother and daughter, for having remained!

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ong below stairs during the conversation which ij;» just taken place I wished to warn you of the )tiger of your state; but Jenny has said all I could i tirej and I now solemnly ask you whether you ! t not much affected by your poor child’s faithful i liversation ? Say whether this sight does not

1 aloud upon you to hear and fear. Jane’s eyes re filled with tears whilst I spoke. My child,

tany, said I, how are you to day ! Sir, my mind f 5 been very easy and happy since I last saw you. hm quite willing to die when the Lord sees fit. | She was now quite overcome, and sunk away

a kind of fainting fit. Her mother observed at she would now probably remain insensible r some time before she recovered. I improved is interval in a serious address to the woman, d then prepared to take my departure, perceiving at Jane was too much exhausted for farther con-

ifersation at that time. As I was leaving the room, he child said faintly, come again soon, sir, my me is very short. I returned home by the same retired road which

i had before chosen. ff The very next morning a message was sent that ttiane thought herself dying, and wished to see me immediately. When I arrived at the house I found Cio one below ; I paused a few minutes and heard Jthe girl’s voice very faintly saying. Do you think pe will come ? I should be so glad—so very glad

o see him before I die. I ascended the stairs— tier father, mother, and brother, together with the elderly woman before spoken of, were in the Ichamber. Jane’s countenance bore the marks of [speedy dissolution. Yet, although death was manifest in her languid features, there was some- thing more than ever interesting in the whole of

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her external aspect. At length she said, this i| very kind, sir} I am going fast^I was afraid should never see you again in this world. I sai, ?

my child, are you resigned to die i Quite.« Where is your hope ? She lifted up her finge pointing tp heaven, and then directing the sarr downward to her own heart, saying successive] as she did so, Christ there, and Christ hp-e. These words, accompanied by the action, spok her meaning more solemnly than can be pasil conceived. A momentary spasm- took pjace.- Looking towards her weeping mother, she said > I am very cold^-but it is no matter—it wiU soot be over. She closed her eyes for about a minnteh and on opening them again, said, I wish, sir when I am gone, you wonld tell the other chil- dren of the parish how good the Lord has been H mo, a poor sinner; tell them that the ways of sit and ignorance are the ways to rnip and hell: anf pray tell them, sir, from me, that Christ is hi, deed the Way, the Truth, and the Lffe-T—he wili in no wise cast put any that come. Tejl them that I, a poor girl—She was quite exhausted, and sunk for a while into a torpid state, from which,; howeyer, she recovered gradually, uttering these* expressions: where am 1 ?—I thought I was go- ing—lord, save me, o how good, how great, how merciful} Jesus s?.ve me; help me through {his last v;ial. She then gaye one hand to her father, the other to her mother, and said, God bless you, God bless you—seek the Lord-—think of me when i am gone—it may be for your good —remember your souls—then all may be well; you caamot know what I gave felt for botii of yop —Lord, pardop and save my dear father and mo- ther.,. She,tiffin took hold of hsr brother’s hand,

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,aying, Jhomag, I beg you to jeave off your bad ; ways-—read the Bible—:I give you tnipe^-I have jfound it a precious boot. Do you not remember • tur Uttle brother who died sorne years since ? he r-tvas praj ing to the last moment of his life. Learn : p pray while yon are in health, and you will find he comfort and power of it when you come to tie; but first of all pray for a new heart—with- ut it you will never seo God in heaven. Your

."•resent ways lead to misery and ruin} may the oord turn your heart to lore and fear him.

1 The child then suddenly rose up with an uh- > ispected exertion, threw her livid wasted arms i iTound me as I sat on the bedside, laid her head

u my shoulder, and said distinctly, God bless find reward you—give thanks for me to Dim—

y soul is saved—Christ is every thing to me.—• jr, we shall meet «n Heaven, shall we not ? Q es., yes—then all will be peace—.peace—peace. She sunk back on the bed, and spoke no mpr? fetched a deep sigh—smiled^and died. For ime time I remained silently gazing on the breath* ss corpse, and could hardly persuade myself that

ane was indeed no longer there, As 1 returned omeward, I fell into meditation on the mysterj*

t|us subject of the fight of a soul from this v/orld lip that of departed spirits. JJ Peace was the last word little Jane uttered 1 /hile living; and peace seemed lo be insoribed i|n the farewell scene at the grave where she was laid. Attachment to the spot where this young it Christian lay, induced me to plant a yew tree close

y the head of the grave, adjoining the eastern Ijtvall of the church. But it withered sppp after- wards, and like the child Whose grave it pointed

ut to notice, early faded away arid died. Per-

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haps this narrative may be permitted to transmits, her memory to othfer generations, when the hand and heart of the writer shall be cold in the dustlj

The story of this Young Cottager involves *' clear evidence of the freeness of the operations ofi divine grace on the heart of man; of the insepar4 able connection between true faith and holiness of disposition; and of the simplicity of charactebi which a real love of Christ transfuses into thej soul. How many of the household of faith, till every age,

“ Alike unknown to fortune and to fame,” I have journeyed, and are now travelling to their I * city of habitation,’ through the paths of modest: obscurity, and almost unheeded piety. It is onej of the most interesting enjoyments of the Chris-; tian minister to search out these spiritual lilies off the valley, whose beauty and fragrance are nearly! concealed in their shady retreats. To rear th«| flower, to assist in unfolding its excellences, andlj bring forth it^s fruit in due season, is a work that! delightf ully recompences the toil of the cultivator.

While he is occupied in this grateful task off labouring in his heavenly Master’s garden,' some blight, some tempest may chance to take away ajf favourite young blossom in a premature stage of its growth.

If such a case should befal him^ he will then perhaps, as I have often done, when standing irr, pensive recollection at little Jane’s grave, make' an application of these lines, which are inscribed, on a grave-stone erected in the same church-yard ,1 and say,

“ This lovely Inid so young and fair, ' Call'd hence by e irly doom,

Just came to. show how sweet a flower,, ^ In Paradise would bicom.”

FINIS.

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