“To Europe—but, my child, God is everywhere.”
“Yes, sir; but my mother is not.”
“But, my dear child, your mother’s spirit, her soul, that which is loved in your mother, is, I hope, in Heaven; it is not in the grave to moulder into dust—the body takes that course, but the spirit returns to God who gave it.”
“Sir,” said the attendant, “they do not teach the child such things, and they do not approve of them.”
“Who does not?”
“Her father and a cousin—they are good people, but are unbelievers in all such matters; and though they seldom dispute with others, they never admit of any instruction to their child about religion.”
“But,” said I, “she must know something about it.”
“Not at all, sir; she does not know what you mean by a spirit or a soul. How should she know—the cousin is her teacher, and she never refers to the subject, and forbids it to me.”
“But the child has been taught something of the kind.”
“Who taught her, sir?”