F. What that pretty, very, very little mouse? Did he make that noise?
S. Yes, look here, I will shew you what it was. See under this leaf two pieces of nut shell. The little field mouse held this nut in his two fore paws, and with his long sharp teeth gnawed, or, as it were, filed away the shell; he then ate away the kernel and is now gone to look for something else.
F. Oh, father, how kind all this is. How well it is planned. Then there is food for every little animal and insect. How great and how good God must be, who orders all things!
By conversations like this, Samuel instructed his children. He took every opportunity to draw their attention towards the eternal God, who, although he does not converse with men upon earth, as before the fall, yet shews his presence by many striking instances of love and mercy.
As Samuel and his daughter continued their walk, they came to the skirt of a wood, where they found a young woman sitting by the side of a spring, with an infant in her arms. The poor little child was crying very bitterly, its mother wept also, and appeared quite overcome with grief.
S. Poor child, how sadly you are crying. My good woman, be more calm; tell me what is the matter?
The Mother. O, Sir, my child is dying; my child, my dear child.
S. No, I do not think so; it is in great pain, but it does not seem likely to die; God has sent this trouble, and he can remove it. Trust in him; take courage and exert yourself, and all will be well. Tell me what is to be done.
M. Ah, Sir, you do not know what has happened. The birds yonder have food for their young, but my little one is dying with hunger—with hunger! I have no milk for it, and have walked all day across the mountains without meeting any help. Oh, my boy, my dear boy, don’t cry so sadly. If you did but know how unhappy it makes your mother.—
Samuel was silent, and deeply grieved. “My God,” said he, “be pleased to hear the cries of this poor creature, and shew us what we should do.”