Use What You Have Pamphlet
SER. 11. No. 141. Use What You Have
I once met a fat little boy, who seemed about ten years of age. When I first saw
him he was wandering about as if looking for something on the ground.
This way and that way he went, until I was close at his side. "Have you lost any
thing, my little fellow?" I asked. I expected to have a bright young face turned
up to mine as he replied; but when the child raised his head, I was inclined to
move away in disgust.
There was a silly, helpless look about the poor creature, that told at once why
he was wandering hither and thither without any object. He had no mind to direct
his steps. He was an idiot. His body was well; he could eat and sleep and enjoy
himself like a mere animal, but he had no mind to make bright his eye, and give
to his face a pleasing expression.
The child was ragged and dirty; but he did not care for that, if he could have
enough to eat and drink. What a trial such a child must be to his parents. He
must always be watched over and cared for like an infant. He could never learn to
read or work, he could never pray to the heavenly Father, or sing sweet hymns in
his praise.
He was not able even to reply to the simple question I had asked him. He opened
his mouth and made sounds that he meant for talking, but they were more like the
voice of some strange animal than the words of a child.
Poor boy, it is to be hoped that he is at least kindly treated. No doubt his
mother speaks tenderly to him, for a mother can love the most disagreeable and
unfortunate of her children.
Kind gentlemen in Europe and in our own country have built houses, where idiots
are gathered together and trained with the greatest patience and care, so as to
be more like men than they otherwise would be. Some have been taught to knit, or
do some other kind of simple work; and a few of the least afflicted have seemed
to be able to get some idea of the great God, who is the maker of all things, and
who loves the meanest of his creatures.
Surely it is kind to give time and painstaking for the improving of idiots, these
poor beings who have no minds.
But what a blessing it is to have a mind and to have the use of our reason; to be
able to think and read and study and talk and work!
I once visited a large and beautiful building with pleasant grounds around it.
There I saw a variety of people engaged in the strangest manner. In the side yard
a woman was sitting in a chair, with her feet drawn up under her and her face
leaning against a high fence. She half turned towards me and said, in a quick
way, " Don't come here ! Don't come here! I'm keeping Sunday!" Not far from her
in another yard, was a man walking round and round in a large circle. There he
had been walking for years, when awake, until he had worn a deep path, in which
only his feet had trodden.
In the basement of the building there was a great room, in the centre of which
was a space shut in by a high iron fence reaching to the wall. In this kind of a
cage was a woman so fierce and wild, that it was painful to hear her voice or to
look upon her.
Ah, that beautiful house and those beautiful grounds, with their tall trees,
could not make a happy home; and my heart was heavy as I looked around me. The
persons walking in the shade, the faces I saw at the window, the group getting
into the close carriage at the door, they were all suffering under the same
affliction. Each one had a diseased mind, each one was insane. They had lost the
use of their minds, and could no longer rule and govern themselves; and here they
were placed to be under the care of skilful physicians, and to be kept from doing
any of the wild, dangerous freaks that came into their crazy heads.
How precious seemed a sound mind, as I looked at these poor afflicted beings. How
grateful ought we to be for the power to think and reason and guide our conduct
according to God's law.
Yet are there not children who never think that their minds are blessings, or at
least who do not seem to value them? Those little ones who grumble and fret that
they must sometimes study, or read, or sew, do they wish that they were like the
poor idiot boy or the unhappy people of the insane asylum ?
Dear children, God has given you your minds, and it is your duty to improve them.
It is right that you should try to be something more than little animals. Never
think it hard that you must leave your play for your book or your work; but
rather be thankful that you have sense to learn to be useful, and a mind that can
understand the law of God. May you have a heart to love that law and obey it.
Many years since I had two young friends who came to play with me sometimes.
Bright-looking, pleasant little girls they were; but they could not hear when I
spoke their names; they could not say one word with their expressive mouths. We
used to get on very well together however, for they could talk with their
fingers, and were very quick in the many games where speaking is not needed. You
will be surprised to hear that these little girls were at school.
Yes, they were so anxious for an education, that they were glad to be at the
Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, where they could be taught by teachers just
suited to them, and have companions who talked like them with their fingers, and
recited in perfect silence.
You should have seen the classes there all looking at their teacher, while he
asked them a question in history by signs, and then each turned to write the
answer on the slate. He had but to fold his arms and walk up and down
thoughtfully, and on every slate "Napoleon" would be written in a moment. If he
made the signs for a ship sailing westward, and some person anxiously on the
look-out for land, they needed no more ; "Columbus " was at once writtcn down.
You perhaps think it is hard and tiresome for you to learn, yet you can hear and
speak. Shame on a little child to whom God has given both a voice and a hearing
ear, and who is so indolent as to be unwilling to use them.
Perhaps you have heard of Laura Bridgman, the deaf, dumb, and blind girl. You
would naturally suppose that she could never learn any thing; yet I once saw her
do sums in arithmetic which might puzzle some of my young readers. I saw her
point out on a map the capital of the State, without stopping a moment to look
for it.
In her books the letters were raised, like the carving on a cameo breast-pin, and
she read with the tips of her fingers. In her maps, the rivers, towns, and
boundaries were raised too, instead of being flat like the rest of the paper; so
that she could pass over the map with her hand and find any place, almost as
quickly as you could do it with the use of your eyes.
There were many blind scholars in the Institution where I saw Laura, some busy
with their studies, and some at their needle-work and their knitting. Yes, the
deaf and dumb and the blind can be taught to read and to be useful. Shall little
children, who have their eyes, their ears, and their voices in perfection, be
lazy and ignorant?
All our blessings come from God; and he expects us not only to be grateful for
them, but to improve them, and be useful and happy in his service.
But God has still stronger claims upon us. Christ has died to save us. If we ever
enter heaven, it will be because we are redeemed by his precious blood. What then
ought we to do with these tongues and eyes which he has given us? How quick ought
our feet to be to run, and our hands to work in his service !