The boys took their places on the sofa, and afterwards laid
their books upon the table. After that Madam Rachel began to talk about
the occurrences of the day, as follows: -
“There are two or three things,
boys, that I have been keeping to talk with you about
this evening. One is the question you asked, Dwight,
about Caleb’s disobeying me, when he fell into
the water.”
“Yes, mother,” said Dwight,
looking up at once, very eagerly; “you told
him never to go near the bank; and yet he went, and
so he fell in.”
“But I could not help it,” said Caleb.
“Why, yes, mother, he certainly
could help it; for he walked there himself of his
own accord.”
“Very well; that is the question
for us to consider; but, first, we must all be in
a proper state of mind to consider it, or else it will
do us no good. Now, Dwight, I am going to ask
you a question, and I want to have you answer it honestly: - Which
way do you wish to have this question, about Caleb’s
disobedience, decided?”
“Why, - I don’t know,”
said Dwight.
“Suppose I should come to the
conclusion that Caleb did right, and should prove
it by arguments, should you feel a little glad, or
a little sorry?”
Dwight hung his head, and seemed somewhat
confused, but said, doubtfully, that he did not know.
“Now, I think, myself,”
said his mother, “that you have a secret wish
to have it appear that Caleb is guilty of disobedience.
You said he disobeyed, at first, from unkind feelings,
which you seemed to feel towards him at the moment;
and now, I suppose, you wish to adhere to it, so as
to get the victory. Now, honestly, isn’t
it so?”
Dwight did not answer at first.
He looked somewhat ashamed. Presently, however,
he concluded, that it was best to be frank and honest;
so he looked up and acknowledged that it was so.
“Yes,” said his mother;
“and while you are under the influence of such
a prejudice, it would do no good for us to discuss
the subject, for you would not be convinced; so you
had better give it up.”
Madam Rachel saw, while she was speaking,
that Dwight did not look sullen and dissatisfied,
but good-natured and pleasant; and so she knew that
he had concluded to listen, candidly, to what she had
to say.
“I think that Caleb was not
to blame at all,” said Madam Rachel, “for
two reasons. One is, that he was probably overwhelmed
with terror. To be sure, as you say, the cow
did not push him. He walked himself, - yet
still he was impelled as strongly as if he had
been pushed, though in a different manner.”
“Then there is another reason
why Caleb is innocent of any disobedience. When
I told him that he must not go to the high banks, I
did not mean that he never must go, in any
case whatever.”
“I thought you said he never must,”
said David.
“I presume I did say so, and
I made no exceptions; but still some exceptions are
always implied in such a case. In all commands,
however positive they may be, there is always some
exception implied.”
“Why, mother?” said Dwight with surprise.
“It is so,” said his mother.
“Suppose, for instance, that I were to tell
you to sit down by the parlour fire, and study a lesson,
and not to get out of your chair on any account.
And suppose that, after I had gone and left you, the
fire should fall down, and some coals roll out upon
the floor, would it not be your duty to get up, and
brush them back?”
“Why, yes,” said Dwight.
“So in all cases, very extreme
and extraordinary occurrences, that could not, by
possibility, have been considered, make exceptions.
And Caleb, thinking, as he did, that he was in great
danger from the cow, if he had thought of my command
at all, he would have done perfectly right to have
considered so extraordinary a case an exception, and
so have retreated towards the brook, notwithstanding
my commands. And now that question is settled.”
Here little Caleb, who had been sitting
up very straight, and looking eagerly at his grandmother
and at the other boys, during the progress of the
conversation, drew a long breath, and leaned back against
the sofa, as if he felt a good deal relieved.
“And now, Dwight, there is one
thing I have seen in you to-day, which gave me a great
deal of pleasure, and another which gave me pain.”
“What, mother,” said Dwight.
“Why, after I talked with you
at noon, about teasing Caleb, you began to treat him
very kindly. That gave me a great deal of pleasure.
I saw that your heart was somewhat changed in regard
to Caleb; for you seemed to take pleasure in making
him happy, while before you took delight in making
him miserable.”
Dwight looked gratified and pleased
while his mother was saying these things.
“But then, in the course of
the afternoon,” she continued, “the old
malignant heart seemed to come back again. When
I came down to see the mole, I found you in such a
state of mind as to take pleasure in Caleb’s
suffering. You wanted to prove that he had told
a lie, and looked disappointed when I shewed you that
he had not. Then you wanted to prove he had disobeyed
me, when, after all, you knew very well that he had
not.”
“O, mother,” said Dwight.
“Yes, Dwight, I am very sorry
to have to say so; but you undoubtedly had no real
belief that Caleb had done wrong. Suppose I had
told you I was going to punish him for disobeying
me in retreating to the brook, should you have thought
that it would have been right?”
“Why, no, mother,” said Dwight.
“You would have been shocked
at such an idea. And now don’t you see that
all your attempts to prove that he had done wrong,
was only the effect of the ill-will you felt towards
him at the time. It was malice triumphing over
your judgment and your sense of right and wrong.
I told you, you know, that your resolutions would
not reach the case.”
“Well, mother, I am determined,”
said Dwight, very deliberatively and positively, “that
I never will tease or trouble Caleb any more.”
“The evil is not so much in
teasing and troubling Caleb, as in having a heart
capable of taking any pleasure in it. That is
the great difficulty.”
“Well, mother, I am determined
I never will feel any pleasure in his trouble again.”
“I am afraid that won’t
depend altogether upon the determination you make.
For instance, when you went to Caleb to-day, and kindly
tried to persuade him to go down, and offered to carry
his rocking-chair for him, your heart was then in
a state of love towards him. Do you think you
could then, by determination, have changed it from
love to hate, and begun to take pleasure in teasing
him?”
Dwight remembered how kindly and pleasantly
he had felt towards Caleb at that time, and he thought
that it would have been impossible for him then to
have found any pleasure in tormenting him; and so he
said, “No, mother, I could not.”
“And so, when you are angry
with a person, and your heart is in a state of ill-will
and malice towards him, does it seem to you that you
can merely by a determination change it all at once,
and begin to be filled with love, so as to feel pleasure
in his happiness?”
Dwight was silent at first; he presently
answered, faintly, that he could not.
“And if you cannot change your
heart by your mere determination at the time, you
certainly cannot by making one general determination,
now beforehand, for all time to come.”
Dwight saw his helpless condition,
and sighed. After a pause, he said,
“Mother, it seems to me you
are discouraging me from trying to be a better boy.”
“No, Dwight; but I don’t
want you to depend on false hopes that must only end
in your disappointment. Your determination will
help in not indulging the bad feelings; but I want
to have your heart changed so that you could not possibly
have such feelings. I hope mine is.
I once shewed the same spirit that you do; but now
I don’t think it would be possible for me to
take any pleasure in teasing Caleb, or you, or David.
“I hope,” added Madam
Rachel, “that God will give you a benevolent
and tender heart, so that there shall be no tendency
in you to do wrong. He will change yours, if
you pray to him to do it. In fact, I hope, and
sometimes I almost believe, that he has begun.
I do not think you would have gone to Caleb to-day
so pleasantly, and acknowledged your fault, as you
did by your actions, and felt so totally different
from what you had done, if God had not wrought some
change in you. I have very often talked with
children about such faults, as plainly and kindly as
I did with you, and it produced no effect. When
they went away, I found, by their looks and actions
afterwards, that their hearts were not changed at
all. And so, Dwight,” said she, “I
have not been saying this to discourage you, but to
make you feel that you need a greater change than
you can accomplish, and so to lead you to God that
you may throw yourself upon him, and ask him, not
merely to help you in your determinations not to act
out your bad feelings, but to change the very nature
of them, or rather, to carry on the change, which I
hope he has begun.”
Dwight remembered, while his mother
was talking, how full his heart had been of kindness
and love to Caleb, while he was helping him that afternoon,
and he perceived clearly that he had not produced that
state of mind by any of his own determinations that
he would feel so before he actually did. He remembered
how happy he had been at that time, and how discontented
and miserable after he had been troubling Caleb; and
he had a feeling of strong desire that God would change
his heart, and make him altogether and always benevolent
and kind.
Now, it happened that Caleb had not
understood this conversation very well, and he began
to be weary and uneasy. Besides just about this
time he began to recollect something about his grandmother’s
beginning a story for him, when she took him up in
her lap, after he came in from the mole. So,
when he noticed that there was a pause in the conversation,
he said,
“Grandmother, you promised to
tell me a story about blind Samuel.”
“So I did,” said his grandmother
smiling, “and I began it; but before I got through
you got fast asleep.”
David and Dwight laughed, and so in
fact did Caleb; and Madam Rachel then said that if
he would tell David and Dwight the story as far as
she had gone, she would finish it.
“Well,” said Caleb, “I
will. Once there was a blind boy, and his name
was Samuel; and, you see, he was going through the
woods, and his father was with him. And his father
walked along, and he walked along, and it was stony,
and he said he would do just what his father said,
because his father knew best, - and - and
so he took hold of the string again.”
“What string?” said Dwight.
“Why, it was his father’s
string,” said Caleb, eagerly, looking up into
Dwight’s face.
“What did he have a string for?” said
David.
“Why to lead him along by,” said Caleb.
“Yes - but why did not he take hold
of his father’s hand?” asked Dwight.
“Why, - why, - there
was a snake in the road, I believe, - wasn’t
there, grandmother?”
His grandmother smiled, - for
Caleb had evidently got bewildered, in his drowsiness,
so that he had not a very distinct recollection of
the story. She, therefore, began again, and told
the whole. When she got to the place where she
left off before, that is, to the place Samuel heard
a splash in the water, Dwight started up, and asked,
eagerly,
“What was it?”
“A stone, I suppose,” said David, coolly.
“No,” said Madam Rachel,
“it was only the end of the stem of a small
tree, which Samuel’s father was trying to fix
across the brook, so that he could lead his blind
boy over. It was lying upon the ground, and he
took it and raised it upon its end, near the edge of
the bank, on one side, and then let it fall over,
in hopes that the other end would fall upon the opposite
bank. But it did not happen to fall straight across,
and so the end fell into the water, and this was the
noise that Samuel heard.
“He drew the stick back again,
and then contrived to raise it on its end once more;
and this time he was more successful. It fell
across, and so extended from bank to bank. In
a few minutes he succeeded in getting another by its
side, and then he came back to Samuel.
“‘Samuel,’ said he, ‘I have
built a bridge.’
“‘A bridge!’ said Samuel.
“‘Yes,’ said he,
’a sort of a bridge; and now I am going to try
to lead you over.’
“‘But, father, I am afraid.’
“’You said you would trust
yourself entirely to me, and go wherever I should
say.’
“‘Well, father,’ said Samuel, ‘I
will. You know best, after all.’
“So Samuel took hold of his
father’s hand, and, with slow, and very careful
steps, he got over the roaring torrent, and then they
soon came out into a broad smooth road, and so got
safely home.”
“Now, Caleb,” continued
Madam Rachel, after she had finished her story, “do
you remember what I meant to teach you by this story?”
“Yes, Grandmother; you said
that I was like blind Samuel, and that God knew what
was best for me, and that I must let him lead me wherever
he pleases.”
“Yes; and what was it that you
said that reminded me to tell you the story?”
“I said that I wished that I
was well and strong, like the other boys.”
“Yes,” said his grandmother,
“I do not think you said it in a fretful or
impatient spirit; but I thought that this story of
Samuel would help to keep you patient and contented.”
“Yes, grandmother, it does,” said Caleb.