New-York tribune., 1868-12-24
TOYS E0R TIE CHILDREN.

deduce the idea of parental affection from
careful survey, about this time, OF tho shop
windows, or from study Of mddc-aged pas
sengcrs going home upon the street railways
with mysterious bundles under their arms, Ill
their laps, at their fect-in fact. everywhere, so
that the car becomes n kind OF mavlng bazaar,
with the stock in trade (only excepting rock
ing-horSes, vel0cipedcs and other tokens OF AZ
fecion Of the larger variety left to the lmagl-
nation. Little eyes peep throught the frosty pahes'
and have gmpscs OF fairy land. There are tlie
dolls. clothed in royal magnicence; there isthe
counterfeit prcscntmcnt OF beasts ana ol
fowls, and Of everything that crcepeth upon
"thr earth :" there is a whole Bodleian library
of picture books; there are bOOdicss warriors IN
wood, and sugar shepherds tending sugar sheep
in sngar pastures; there arc-but we must stop
somewhere in our delightful invoice, and we stop
here. That must be child Of by no means
brilliant promise, who cannot argue himself or
herself into n reasonable degree OF seli-import-
ancc from all these splendid premises. Here Is
a little wooden animal beautifully carved 10y
foreign fingers, and in some Swiss valley; then
sent down TO a famous seaport; then packed
with care, and transported by steam over inc
broad Atlantic, that, upon the morning of the
/ 1 ~
from the very toe Of small stocking
amid innocent cries Of aslonlshment, To
rive purcr pleasure than any WARRIOR
king ever derived from the acquisition Oh
proyncc, or any hunter of modern times from
the capture of veiitablc gorilla IL we were
70 nnalyzc the JOY produced IN the JuVchilo
breast by this craven image we should pfoo-
ably find il TO he a singular mixture oil im!A
and Of increduli,y. If the boy in Hawthorne s
charming story had really believed his cake to
be = camel. he would not have made the faint
est attempt to eat it, at least without previous
culinary piepaIatiOn. Yet when he hist re-
ceivcd it over the counter he experienced tho
pleasure of considering himself the proprietor
of q real camel; then came the second stage OF
his rapture, when lac passed from the zooioSl-
cal 10 the dietetc, and, having fcasted his eyes,
bccan TO indulge his palate This rounded
his rapture aud left him nothing to
wish for in this world except, alas'
another camel. But tho boy who
receives on Christmas morning wooden Buce-
phalus is true TO civilization, and has not the
snacet notion of ccnsurng his gilt. lie
stables the stced immediately in one corner o.
the nursery, and Is as proud of 1t as GarGan-
tna was Of his "fair great horse of wood which
" Inc did make leap, curyct, ycrk out bchlnd'
" and skip forward all the time" IL Is quite
equal To q real horse. and 1t has the adYan-
tage Of being n rare and exquisite imita-
ton of the reality. 1t is substance and shadow
all in one. So, too, TO the little girl, her doll
! i a delicious dclusion. She suspects that she
| i. deceived she wishes To bc deceived she IL
half deceived and half not and she wholly be-
hcycs and disbcliovcs in the same moment
No such glad nbsurdites come to us when We
get older. We grow literal with advancing
years. We become sharp-ey cd for flaws in all the
! TOYS which Fortune sends US, and take critical
| peeps az the mouths of our prcttiest hobbies.
! The bubbles we chase break in our grasp; the
! baublo we covet turns out TO be tinsel the
| hopes we have cherished are first distrnsted,
| and then, perhaps with bitter tears and biting
| hcartacLe, dismissed; and so, by process
! kindly enough, but very sharp, we are led to
| discard our illusions, and TO make ready Tor
! that day of our departure which is always at
! hand.
Yet, while our children are spared to us, and
even while the memory of the lost is green. We
can never wholly lose that capacity for genuine
and childish enjoyment which has ceased
always TO brighten our dusty life. As the
wear grows old, we find ourselves, in spite of
! all tho remonstrances of reason and expe-
rience, growing young again. The gray hairs
and the wrinkles, we argue, must bc an optical
| delusion and the memorandum OF our BIRTH
day in the family register no better than n
forgery. We join in the wild frolic, and are
not ashamed we dismiss dignity as the most
| ridiculous Of pretenses, and become laughing
| old men with something Of the Zest of Ana
creon. Indeed, il would be very hard world
this of ours without the children. If we were
to lose these unconscious monitors altogether
| il is not easy to see how great many OF the
virtues and morals which make life tOlerable
could be maintained. Children are the per-
pctual instigatoIs of charity they keep us by
| gentle compulsOn in the way of industry and
thrift; they will not suffer us to bo hard
hearted and morose they are tho peace
makers who secure domestic concord;
they make toll sweet and sacrifice
pleasant; they shame us out of scnsuality and
sclfshness and if it were not for them inno-
eence and purity might become words without
meaning to our distempcred sous.
| 1t may be proper enough for parents not to
mention the fact to their children at this holi-
day season, when the young folks require no
| particular assurance of their value and inn
portance, but, after long and moderately philo
| sophical reflection, we have come TO the con-
cluson that without these little ones there could
be no Christmas, certainly no Merry Christmas,
at all. The festival began with that milacu-
lous birthday which changed the whole calcn-
dar and from which all the centuries have