Heaven, when your mother peoples it with friends gone, and little
Charlie, and that better Friend who, she says, took Charlie in his arms,
and is now his Father above the skies, seems a place to be loved and
longed for. But to think that Mr. Such-an-one, who is only good on
Sundays, will be there too,--and to think of his talking as he does of a
place which you are sure he would spoil if he were there,--puzzles you
again; and you relapse into wonder, doubt, and yearning.
--And there, Clarence, for the present, I shall leave you. A wide, rich
heaven hangs above you, but it hangs very high. A wide, rough world is
around you, and it lies very low!
I am assuming in these sketches no office of a teacher. I am seeking
only to make a truthful analysis of the boyish thought and feeling. But
having ventured thus far into what may seem sacred ground, I shall
venture still farther, and clinch my matter with a moral.
There is very much religious teaching, even in so good a country as New
England, which is far too harsh, too dry, too cold for the heart of a
boy. Long sermons, doctrinal precepts, and such tediously-worded dogmas
as were uttered by those honest but hard-spoken men, the Westminster
Divines, fatigue, and puzzle, and dispirit him.
Pages:
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86