prayers, and seemed like a little beast beginning to be tamed. So,
after school, I called him to me, and putting him before my knees
asked him some questions very kindly: "Did he know who God was? Had
he never been taught to kneel down and say his prayers? Of course he
had not, but it gave me the proper opportunity of speaking to his
parents. So having now considered the matter for two or three days
previously, having ascertained all the facts about the people, after
an hour among some others in the village, I went right into their
cottage, and luckily found father and mother and grandmother at home,
besides one or two more (who are lodgers) in a room adjoining, with
the door open. "I am come to talk to you about William," I began,
whereupon I saw the woman turn quite red. However, I spoke for about
ten minutes slowly and very quietly, without any appearance (as I
believe) of anger or passion at all, but yet speaking my mind quite
plainly. "I had no idea any child could be so neglected. Did they
suppose the school was a place where any parent might send a child
merely to get it out of the way (of course they do, you know, most of
them)? Was it possible that a child could be made good as if by
magic there, when it learns nothing but wicked words at home? Do you
think you can or ought to get rid of the duties you owe your child?
Do you suppose that God will not require from you an account of the
way you have behaved towards him, you who have never taught him to
know who God is, what God is, what is prayer, what is the church, who
have taught that little mouth, which God created for praise and
blessings, to curse and blaspheme? I know that many children do and
say wicked things, but it is in most cases owing to the neglect of
their parents, who do not speak kindly to their children, and do what
they can to keep them out of temptation, but this is a different
case. Your boy is not fit to come into the company of little
Christians! Awful as it is to think of, he is already, at his early