The boy’s capacity to give evidence, however, was somewhat doubted by the counsel for the Crown, John Clark, and it did honour to his sense of fairness.  Having asked the little boy a question or two as to the meaning of an oath, he said he had some doubt as to whether the witness should be admitted to give evidence, as he did not seem to understand the nature of an oath, and the boy was otherwise deficient in religious knowledge.

He was asked the usual sensible questions which St. Thomas Aquinas himself would have been puzzled to answer; and being a mere child of seven—­or at most eight—­years of age, without any kind of education, was unable to state what the exact nature of an oath was.

Having failed in this, he was next asked what, when they died, became of people who told lies.

“If he knows that, it’s a good deal more than I do,” said Maule.

“Attend to me,” said the Crown counsel.  “Do you know that it’s wicked to tell lies?”

“Yes, sir,” the boy answered.

“I don’t think,” said the counsel for the prosecution, “it would be safe to swear him, my lord; he does not seem to know anything about religion at all.—­You can stand down.”

“Stop a minute, my boy,” says Maule; “let me ask you a question or two.  You have been asked about a future state—­at least I presume that was at the bottom of the gentleman’s question.  I should like to know what you have been taught to believe.  What will become of you, my little boy, when you die, if you are so wicked as to tell a lie?”

“Hell fire,” answered the boy with great promptitude and boldness.

“Right,” said Maule.  “Now let us go a little further.  Do you mean to say, boy, that you would go to hell fire for telling any lie?”

“Hell fire, sir,” said the boy emphatically, as though it were something to look forward to rather than shun.

“Take time, my boy,” said Maule; “don’t answer hurriedly; think it over.  Suppose, now, you were accused of stealing an apple; how would that be in the next world, think you?”

“Hell fire, my lord!”

“Very good indeed.  Now let us suppose that you were disobedient to your parents, or to one of them; what would happen in that case?”

“Hell fire, my lord!”

“Exactly; very good indeed.  Now let me take another instance, and suppose that you were sent for the milk in the morning, and took just a little sip while you were carrying it home; how would that be as regards your future state?”

“Hell fire!” repeated the boy.

Upon this Clark suggested that the lad’s absolute ignorance of the nature of an oath and Divine things rendered it imprudent to call him.

“I don’t know about that,” said Maule; “he seems to me to be very sound, and most divines will tell you he is right.”

“He does not seem to be competent,” said the counsel.