I must say that I was much better pleased with the appearance of the
cabin, it was so neat and clean to what it had been, and everything was
out of the way. The next day was a calm and clear day, and we went down
to fish. We were fortunate, and procured almost as many as we had done
at the previous fishing--they were all put in the bathing pool as
before. When we went up to the cabin, as soon as the fish was put on
the fire, under the direction of my mother, I turned up the sides of
one of the pieces of sheet iron, so as to make a sort of dish. The
other piece I did the same to, only not so high at the sides, as one
piece was kept for baking the fish on and the other as a dish to put
our dinner upon when cooked. That day we had been too busy with fishing
to think of anything else, but on the following I recollected the
magnifying glass, and brought it to her. She first showed me the power
it had to magnify, with which I was much amused for a time, and she
explained as well as she could to me the cause of its having that
power, but I could not well understand her; I was more pleased with the
effect than cognisant of the cause. Afterwards she sent me to the cabin
for some of the dried moss which I used for tinder, and placing the
glass so as to concentrate the rays of the sun, to my astonishment I
saw the tinder caught fire. It was amazement more than astonishment,
and I looked up to see where the fire came from. My mother explained to
me, and I, to a certain degree, comprehended, but I was too anxious to
have the glass in my own hands and try experiments. I lighted the
tinder again-then I burnt my hand--then I singed one of the gannet's
heads, and lastly, perceiving that Nero was fast asleep in the sun, I
obtained the focus on his cold nose. He started up with a growl, which
made me retreat, and I was perfectly satisfied with the result of my
experiments. From that time, the fire was, when the sun shone,
invariably lighted by the burning-glass, and very useful did I find it.
As it was so portable, I always carried it with me, and when I had
nothing to do, I magnified, or set fire, according to the humour of the
moment.
Although I have not mentioned it, not a morning rose, but before
breakfast, I read the Scriptures to my mother.
"There's so much in that book which I cannot understand," said I, one
morning.
"I suspect that, living as you have, alone on this island, and having
seen nothing of the world," replied my mother, "that there are not many
books that you would understand."
"But I understand all that is said in the Beast and Bird Book," replied
I.
"Perhaps you may, or think you do; but, Frank, you must not class the
Bible with other books. The other books are the works of man, but the
Bible is the word of God. There are many portions of that book which
the cleverest men, who have devoted their lives to its study, cannot
understand, and which never will be understood as long as this world
endures. In many parts the Bible is a sealed book."
"But will it never be understood then by anybody?"
"There is quite as much of the Bible as is necessary for men to follow
its precepts, and this is so clear that anybody may understand it--it
contains all that is necessary for salvation; but there are passages,
the true meaning of which we cannot explain, and which God, for his own
purposes, will not permit us to. But if we do not know them now, we
shall probably hereafter, when we have left this world, and our
intellects more nearly approach God's."
"Well, I don't understand why we should not understand it."
"Frank," replied she, "look at that flower just in bloom. Do you
understand how it is that that plant keeps alive--grows every
year--every year throws out a large blue flower? Why should it do so?
why should the flower always be blue? and whence comes that beautiful
colour? Can you tell me? You see, you know that it does do so; but can
you tell me what makes it do so?"
"No."
"Look at that bird. You know it is hatched from an egg. How is it that
the inside of an egg is changed into a bird? How is it that the bird is
covered with feathers, and has the power to fly? Can you explain to me
yourself? You can walk about just as you please--you have the power of
reasoning, and thinking, and of acting; but by what means is it that
you possess that power? Can you tell? You know that is so, but you know
no more. You can't tell why or how or what causes produce these
effects--can you?"
"No."
"Well, then, if you are surrounded by all manner of things, living and
dead, and see every day things which you cannot explain, or understand,
why should you be surprised that, as God has not let you know by what
means these effects are produced, that in his written word he should
also keep from you that which for good purposes you are not permitted
to know. Everything here is by God's will, and that must be sufficient
for us. Now do you understand?"
"Yes, I see now what you mean, but I never thought about these things
before. Tell me some more about the Bible."
"Not now. Some day I will give you a history of the Bible, and then you
will understand the nature of the book, and why it was written; but not
at present. Suppose, as we have nothing particular to do, you tell me
all you know about yourself from Jackson, and all that happened while
you lived with him. I have heard only part, and I should like to know
all."
"Very well," replied I. "I will tell you everything, but it will take a
long while."
"We shall have plenty of time to spare, my dear boy, I fear, before we
leave this place; so, never mind time--tell me everything."
I commenced my narrative, but I was interrupted.
"Have you never been able to call your own mother to your memory?" said
she.
"I think I can now, since I have seen you, but I could not before. I
now can recollect a person dressed like you, kneeling down and praying
by my side; and I said before, the figure has appeared in my dreams,
and much oftener since you have been here."
"And your father?"
"I have not the slightest remembrance of him, or anybody else except my
mother."
I then proceeded, and continued my narrative until it was time to go to
bed; but as I was very circumstantial, and was often interrupted by
questions, I had not told a quarter of what I had to say.