“I am glad to hear you say that, Malachi,” said Mr Campbell.
“I little thought that I should ever have said it,” replied the old man; “when I first saw that girl by the side of the stream,” (looking at Emma), “then my heart yearned towards the boy; and now this meeting to praise God and to keep Christmas-Day—all has helped.”
“But do you not pray when you are alone?” said Mary.
“Yes, in a manner, miss; but it’s not like your prayers; the lips don’t move, although the heart feels. When I lie under a tree watching for the animals, and I take up a leaf and examine it, I observe how curious and wonderful it is, I then think that God made it, and that man could not. When I see the young grass springing up, and how, I know not, except that it does so every year, I think of God and His mercy to the wild animals in giving them food; and then the sun reminds me of God, and the moon, and the stars, as I watch, make me think of Him; but I feel very often that there is something wanting, and that I do not worship exactly as I ought to do. I never have known which is Sunday, although I well recollected how holy it was kept at my father’s house, and I never should have known that this was Christmas-Day, had it not been that I had met with you. All days are alike to a man that is alone and in the wilderness, and that should not be—I feel that it should not.”
“So true is it,” observed Mr Campbell, “that stated times and seasons are necessary for the due observance of our religious duties; and I am glad to hear Malachi say this, as I trust it will occasion his being with us more than he has been.”
“Come to us every Sunday, Malachi,” said Mrs Campbell.
“I think I will, ma’am, if I can—indeed, why I say if I can, I know not; it was wrong to say so.”
“I wish you to come not only on your own account, but for John’s sake; suppose you come every Sunday morning, and leave us every Monday. You will then have the whole week for your hunting.”
“Please God, I will,” replied Malachi.
“And bring the Strawberry with you,” said Mary.