Library Collections: Document: Full Text

"And could he do anything for the boy?" asked her visitor.

"No, ma'am," answered the woman, with a sigh; 'he shook his head, and said all we could do was to keep him as warm as possible. He was eight years old afore he could speak plain enough to be understood. The neighbors' children taught him, and a vast deal o' pains they took; for, dear heart! the difficult thing is to get anything into his head; when once that's done, there's no fear of his ever forgetting it."

"But that is an advantage, is it not?"

"Not so much as you would think ma'am. Now you see how peaceable he is, sitting in the sun as happy as can be, with his jackdaw on his knee; but there are some words that, if he was but to hear them mentioned, would put him into such a fret and a ferment as is pitiful to see."

"Does be go to church?" asked the visitor, who felt more and more interest in the poor child.

" Yes, ma'am," said the woman; "but I reckon he has no notion of praying, and sometimes the organ frightens him a little; but we have taught him to behave very pretty, only sometimes (and that's not often I'm sure) the poor child will give a little laugh when he sees anybody come in that he knows; and the neighbors never take any notice; but some people in the other hamlet set it about that he disturbed the congregation, and ought not to come. So I walked over to Mr. Green, and I said, 'Sir, if it is your wish, I and my sister will take it in turns to stay at home with the boy.' 'Why should you, Mary Goddard?' I says he; 'he behaves as well as many children that have all their faculties; and I do not see why you should be kept from public worship on his account; and as for the child,' said he, 'I should be sorry to banish him, for who can tell whether he may not learn something, however little? Indeed, it is my wish that he should come.'"

"And do you think he has learned anything at church?" asked the visitor.

"No, ma'am, because he never seems to understand anything, unless the person that says it stands close to him and speaks to him, and attends to nothing else; but Mr. Green said it was not for us to limit the Almighty and decide whether he could understand or no; we were to do our duty and leave the rest."

"That is the only way to avoid anxiety," observed the visitor.

"At one time," continued the woman, "we did think he was more sensible, and Mr. Green let him come to school; the neighbors' children used to wheel him there in a barrow, but they could teach him nothing; and at last Mr. Green came and told us, in a very kind way that he could not let him stay because he disturbed the other children, and wanted so much watching. But Mrs. Green, when she found how much we took it to heart, said she would try what she could do for him; and, sure enough, she was a clever lady, and she made him know more in three months than anybody else has taught him all his life; but she fell ill and died, -- dear lady, -- and there was an end of his learning."

"What did she teach him?" asked the visitor, who was beginning to consider whether she could not take up the work.

"She made him understand that there is a God," said the woman, "and made him have a wonderful sort of reverence for God ; and you would hardly believe, ma'am, that when that boy has done a wrong thing, -- such as throwing things in the fire, which he will do sometimes, or overturning the milk, which he knows he ought not to meddle with, -- he will go and hide himself in the closet till it gets dark that, as he says, God may not see him; for you know it is too much to expect that poor child to understand that God can see through a door."

"Poor child," said the lady; "but what a proof this is of his entire belief of what he has been told."

"Yes, ma'am, that is what Mr. Green said when I told him. 'Mary Goddard,' he said, 'this ought to put us to shame; how few of us have the presence of God so clearly in our minds, and are so much afraid when we know we lave done amiss.' Now, Mrs. Green being dead, we cannot exactly find out what she taught Matt, for though he can turn things over in his mind, he cannot tell them to us. However, we noticed from that time that Matt had a great habit of looking up in the sky, and I have no doubt, ma'am, he told you, if you asked him, what he was looking for."

"Yes, he did; and I felt very much surprised," said the lady.

"Ah," remarked the woman, "I thought so, ma'am. I saw you were surprised when you came in, and I made up my mind you should know the rights of the story, if you would stop awhile. Well, ma'am, Matt spends the chief part of his time, on fine days, looking for God; and knowing God sees everything, seems to make more difference to him than to us that have our senses."

"And there he again reproves us," observed the visitor.

"What you say is very true, ma'am. Now the neighbors never tell him any lies, -- that would be a wicked thing, -- so I know none of them ever made him expect to see what we never shall see in this world; so I reckon that Matt put two things together and thought, if the Almighty could see him, why, He might be seen."