Weekly Trinity journal., 1859-12-03
Thc Sweet Faith of Childhood.

OF all things in nature, deliver us from little,
old. wise child, n small animal that trots across
Euolids ''p0aS asiRo,ltpl," to join the herd of
greater asses on tho other side; small atom of
gravity, pouring over causes, that God designed
to sparkle like u drop of dew or u globulc of
quicksilver u human ferret with sharp eyes
and sharper nose prying into nook and Granny
for lurking reasons and effects the being that
God designed should look its great mother Ma
tire in the face, and wonder and admire, aud
dream itself up to the very gates of Paradise
OF all things in Nature deliver us from the
little child that makes a right anged triangle of
itself, soul and body, while 1t studies " Science
made easy" or some other of the benevolent
nonsense of the day, when it ought to be won
derng whose face it sees, and whose voice it
hears in the well orepyng bear in the currant
bushes, or an angel steering cloud ; or q" ma
king believe" it's king or queen, or sever SO
rich, aud what it will do and what it will dare
hsn All that them" is the keynote to all
our dreams, whether we are under the altitude
Of chopne." or " bearded like pard."
What magnificent stupidity it is to tell tho
sunny haired six year old, that there is no such
man as Santa Claus the dear Saint Nicholas of
the holidays, nobody To the other Nick with
such sacriegei
We confess to q most afoctionate weakness for
all sorts of fairy tales. The vitreous slipper of
that precious little maid, Cinderela,p has not
yet lost its wonder we catch ourselves wishing,
even in these latter days that we might be II
mess mate Of "Sinhad the Sailor - and while
ago. when for the hundredth time we read Ali
Babn and the story of the great Roc, that inn
mense Arabian bird, we felt sort of malicious
satisfaction when the brisk little maiden made
sdrdines OF the two score roguos with the boiling
oil ; and at once found herself wishing, as wo
used to do nearly II quarter Of century ago,
that we could find roc's nest, with an egg in it,
Jack the Giant Killer yet commands our re-
spect. " The Babes in the Wood continue to
have our sympathies /; and, as for their gracecss
uncle, we verify believe we should know him
were we to meet him in the street Tho bold
Robin Hood" is II hero still, and his name has
not lost Its power to summon up the good green
wood and archers ten we hear the signal horn:
we see the red deer bound away we brush, with
quick, free step, the morning dew.
All of us pay high price for the manhood we
attaln-nolhing less than the sweet faith of
childhood. All along the way from morning till
high noon, robbers exact the toll of life. Pblos-
ophy with smile, breaks the blue ring of a low
bending Heaven, that used to bound our little
world the brook has ceased to weary and to
sing and leaves TO whisper, and babies to be borne
IN angel arms adOwn the ladder from God win
dow IN The sky. Chemistry resolves the golden
stain upon the grass, we thought the fairies foot
steps made, as under the moon they danced away
the nght-rcsolyes it into nothing
30 Que by one, the jewels of the morning are
wasted with its dews and what needless cruelty
1T Is ior their elders, not their bctters to steal
away the little faith OF children In an unseen
world to clip the wings of household angels,
that iiuttcred nights at bed room window panes
to tell them before their time, the raiabow's frag-
ments are not strewn about the wood crowned
hill the hill is not the boundary of the world.