to him about Abraham and Isaac, and had just come to the uplifted knife;
"'top, mother! I don't want to hea any more. _I despise him._" Did not
that child _feel_? and is it conceivable that he meant what he said?
Feeling his gorge rise, with abhorrence, it may be, and not
understanding the awful significance of the threatened sacrifice, a type
of what afterwards happened on Mount Moriah, where the Temple stands, he
took that word which, in his little childish experience, best
corresponded with his thought of horror and amazement that a father
should put his child to death.
No. 3. And this reminds me of a little girl, who had never learned to
read, but used to take her Bible and sit down by herself in the corner,
as all children do at times, and make believe read. One day, when the
mother was very busy, the child wanted to hear about Noah and the Ark.
The mother had read over certain passages aloud so often, that the child
had got them by heart. She opened at the place, and gave her little one
the book in her lap. After awhile, the child began to murmur to
herself--the mother listened--and the little thing read as follows, with
the greatest possible seriousness and unction: "And the Lord said unto
Noah, Come out, thou and thy wife, and thy sons' wives and thy
daughters, and--_balancez_!"
The dear little puss had just begun to go to the dancing-school. What
wonder that she didn't always know her head from her heels?
No. 4. Another little girl, who had been favored with glimpses of the
upper sky, having been told by her mother that she was _always_
surrounded by guardian angels, grew very thoughtful, and, after drawing
a long breath, looked up and said, "Mamma, do you mean _really_ that
_all the whole time_ they are with me?" On receiving a solemn assurance
in the affirmative, she exclaimed with an impatient fling, "Well,
really, I _should_ like to be alone a little while, _sometimes_."
What a lesson for the mother! If children are allowed to dabble with
mysteries like these, without explanation, they cannot be otherwise than
shocking sometimes, like a Leyden jar; and if they are, whose fault is
it? Either more or less ought to have been told that dear little, honest
baby.
No. 5. But children have wonderful foresight, and often reach
conclusions by a sort of intuitive logic, as women do--flashing the
truth upon us without preparation, and forecasting the future, as if
suddenly gifted with second sight. A little boy, having been told by his
parents that he couldn't go to church because he was too small, answered
with a toss of the head, "Well, you'd better take me now, for when I get
bigger, I may not want to go!" To which I say, Bravo! my little man!
Such a reply ought to throw the doors of any church wide open to you, as
to a glorified spirit--in embryo.
No. 6. A little girl knelt down by her mother's knee to say her prayers,
before going to bed. After finishing the Lord's Prayer, she went on to
offer up her little petitions for every separate member of the family,
and at last came to the youngest, who, having been rather naughty that
day, was out of favor: "And please God make Lucy a good little girl,
and make----" here she was suddenly interrupted by Lucy, who burst out
with--"Here you! stop that! I'll do my own praying myself, I thank you!"
Who would not sympathize with such a child, under such circumstances,
even though both were at an infant prayer-meeting? And who is there who
would not shrink from being prayed for to his face anywhere, after such
a fashion?
No. 7. Their notions of language, too, are sometimes of the drollest, as
where the poor boy used that unfortunate word _despise_, when he meant
only to express horror and astonishment. "How did you fall--_backward_?"
said a mother to a child who was just coming to herself and gasping for
breath, after a heavy fall. "_Backward_, mamma! no indeed--I fell
_accidentally_."
No. 8. A dear little boy, anything but pious, though happy and cheerful,
and about as good as most boys of his age, had been listening patiently
for a long while to his mother's account of heaven--likening it to a
great everlasting Sabbath-school. At last he looked up, with a troubled
countenance, and said in a whisper, "But mamma, don't you think God
would let me have a little devil come up and play with me sometimes,
when I have been very good?"
No. 9. Another little fellow, on his way home from his church with his
mother, seemed astonished at the crowds he saw. After walking awhile
without speaking, he came out with, "Why mamma, I should think God would
be tired making so many people." Here was an embryo theologian for you!
And yet he had probably never heard of the Scripture, where it is said
that God _repented_ of His making man. Nor was he quite prepared to
understand why such crowds were ever made, nor what they were good for,
seeing how they behaved, and how they were employed, and how they
dressed, and how they chattered. If Babels were scattered of yore, why
not now--if they try to scale the heavens by a forbidden path, or to
carry their bulwarks by assault, as most of the nations do?
No. 10. A little girl who had learned her letters and all her lessons by
the help of a pictured primer, but had never learned to put them
together, opened her book one day at the picture of a _quail_, with its
name underneath, in large letters. After studying a long while, she
seemed to catch the idea, and called it a _pigeon_--a word she could not
pronounce, though she knew the bird well enough, and out she came with
"Q. U. A. I. L.--_fidget_"--with such an air of triumph and
self-complacency, it was never forgotten.
No. 11. Children's prayers--if they are indeed prayers--must be
acceptable on earth as well as in heaven; and he must indeed be
heartless, or worse, who would think slightingly of them, although,
sooth to say, they are sometimes hard to bear. For example: a little
girl, on having her hair smartly pulled by her little brother, while
saying her prayers, went on for awhile, without turning her head, in the
same low monotone, "and please God, excuse me for a minute, while I kick
Neddy." Tell me that child was without understanding what is meant by
prayer! or that she meant to abuse the privilege. No such thing--though,
to be sure, she may have misunderstood some of its functions. Had she
not been a believer, she would have kicked Neddy at once, without asking
leave--would she not?
No. 12. But children must not be allowed to counterfeit or pretend.
Encourage them to be honest, even in prayer--honest even at church. A
fine, hearty little fellow, who had been treated with his first circus
on Saturday, and to his first church-service the next Sabbath-morning,
sat quietly enough, as everybody acknowledged, for the first half hour:
and then he began to grow uneasy, and fidget in his seat, until he was
admonished by his mother more than once. Worn to death at last, he
groaned out loud enough to be heard in the neighboring pews, "O dear!
I'd rather go to two circuses than one meeting!" Of course he told the
truth; and of course he ought to have been patted on the back, and
encouraged for his downright honesty.
No. 13. Quart pots don't hold a gallon--though pint bottles are
sometimes said to hold a quart in certain establishments; and we must
be wary of packing and crowding these earthen vessels, before they are
hooped and strengthened. A small boy, not otherwise remarkable, though
mischievous, adroit and playful, had been talked to, till he was out of
all patience with a clergyman, about the omnipresence of God. It was
pretty clear, from what followed, that he had begun to be somewhat
sceptical, and he determined to lay a trap for his teacher. One day,
when they were riding together, the following conversation was had:--
"Didn't you tell me, sir," said our young master, "that God is
everywhere?"
"Yes, my child."
"Is he in this carriage?"
"Yes."
"Is he in my hat?"
"Yes--yes."
"Is he in my pocket?"
"Yes, child"--rather impatiently.
"Hurrah! now I've got you! I ain't got no pocket!" was the clincher.
What a lesson for that clergyman! If, as Goethe says, Hamlet was an oak
planted in a china vase, intended for a rose-tree, so that when the
plant grew, the pot was shattered, what was likely to happen to that
child, if the omnipresence of God had been suffered to take root in his
young, unprepared heart?
No. 14. Another child, afflicted with similar misgivings, took a
different course to satisfy his inward longings. After propounding every
conceivable question at the breakfast-table one day, he clenched the
whole with, "Is God in this sugar-bowl?" "Certainly," said his mother.
Whereupon, with a whoop, he clapped his hand on the bowl, and shouted,
"Ah, ha! now I've got you, old fellow!"
So much for misunderstanding the most obvious truth, namely, that,
although men are but children of a larger growth, children are not often
philosophers, theologians, or giants--Mozart to the contrary
notwithstanding; and that, in training them for another world, they are
to be uplifted, not overborne, with mystery.
No. 15. Another little chap of three years only, met his father on his
return from a long journey, exclaiming, "O papa, I've got a tory of
_interet_ to tell you. Dis mornin' mamma was writin' in the parlor, an'
a gate, big, yeller fly comed in at the open window, an' it kep sayin'
_sizzum, sizzum, sizzum,_ three times, an' it _beed_ my hand with
its foot, and its foot was hot!"
Had not this child pretty decided notions of what is meant by the song
of a "bumble bee," and the sting? Let him alone for that.
No. 16. The same boy, having thrown something valuable into the fire,
was taken to task by his father, who, after remonstrating with him
awhile on the enormity of his transgression, wound up with, "Why, my
dear child, if you go on in this way, just think what a dreadful boy you
will be, when you grow up!" At this, the little fellow's face brightened
all over, and he exclaimed, "Why papa! I shall be yest like ee yobber
kitten, sant I?"--alluding to the autobiography of a very disreputable
fast kitten, who, or rather _which_, had taken to the highway at an
early age, and is therefore a special favorite with children of all
ages--like most of Mayne Reid's heroes, or Jonathan Wild, or Jack
Sheppard.
No. 17. And this reminds me of a similar case, where well-meant
instruction was painfully misunderstood by a promising little fellow,
who was very fond of Bible-stories with illustrations. His mother was
showing him a picture of Daniel in the lion's den, with the old lions
ramping and tearing their prey to tatters, and a young lion--a
cub--looking on. Just when she had begun to congratulate herself on the
success of her teaching, the child cried out, "O mamma! look! look! the
little one won't get any!"
N. B.--Beware of cramming and overloading. Beware also of expecting too
much in this world. But, above, all, beware of misunderstanding yourself
in your children!
No. 18. Yet more. A little girl having been brought up on the song "I
want to be an angel!" had evidently been pondering the manners, habits,
occupations and usages of that fraternity, until at length she came out
decidedly with, "No mamma--I don't want to be an angel!"
"Not want to be an angel! Why, Susie!" exclaimed the mother, greatly
shocked at the child's hopeless condition; "and why not, pray?"
"'Cause, mamma, I don't want to lose all my pretty close, an' wear
fedders, like a hen!"
There's truthfulness for you--worth its weight in gold--a string of
"Orient pearls at random strung."
No. 19. Another little fairy, having been carefully trained to a proper
estimate of the becoming in attire, was taken into a room to see her
dead grandmother in her coffin. She looked very grave at first, and then
sorrowful, and after a minute or two said, in a low, sweet, trembling
voice, with her little hand stealing slowly into her mother's hand, "Has
grandmamma gone to heaven in that ugly cap, mamma?"
No. 20. Little mischiefs, at the best, I have said--are they not? Just
read the following, and say no, if you dare! A youngster in Peoria,
Illinois, while ransacking his sister's portfolio, came across a package
of love-letters carefully tied up with a blue ribbon, and stowed snugly
away; being her correspondence with a charming fellow, not, perhaps, to
the liking of papa and mamma. These he took to the corner of a crowded
thoroughfare, and, as he had seen the postman do, distributed them to
the passers-by. His poor sister heard of the achievement after they were
in general circulation; and then!--ask our friend Carlyle, after
shooting Niagara; or Wendell Phillips--after Grant. See No. 53.
No. 21. I have just met with this: "A little lady of thirty months only,
insists on calling a cane with a crooked handle, 'An umbrella without
any clothes on.'" There's a philologist for you! And one, too, capable
of giving a reason for what she says.
No. 22. A little boy in Scotland was asked by his Sabbath-school teacher
what was meant by _regeneration_. "Being born again," he replied. "And
would you not like to be born again, my little man?" said the teacher.
"_No!_" answered the boy, with decided emphasis, greatly to the surprise
of the good dominie. "And why not?" continued the latter. "For fear I
might be born a lassie," said the boy. Was there ever a better reason,
with the poor boy's understanding of the great mystery? So much for
dabbling with metaphysics before the unprepared.
No. 23. And sometimes they have to do with politics and other worldly
matters,--the social evil, perhaps, or woman's-rights, or universal
suffrage. And why not? being what they are, miniature men and women,
with the rights of both.
"Be you a Democrat or a Republican?" said one of these President-makers
in embryo, to another little fellow in a frilled apron. "No, I'm not
either," was the indignant reply; "I belong to the Congregational
Church." Of course he did; having been baptized into that denomination,
when just old enough to be deeply impressed with the ceremony.
No. 24. A little girl of six years at the most, after her nurse had
enlarged upon the character and attributes of the Old Evil One, till her
blood ran cold, broke out with, "Auntie, if the devil is so wicked, why
don't God kill him?" A question, by the way, which has "puzzled
philosophers of all sects and ages," like the "cosmogony of the world,"
according to Oliver Goldsmith, and his delightful friend, Ephraim
Jenkinson.
No. 25. Little Maud, five years old, was sitting on the floor, and
trying to stitch like her mother. Suddenly looking up, after a long
silence, she said, like one familiar with the gossip of the tea-table
and the quilting-frame, "Mamma, I was thinking God must be getting quite
along in years!" Of course, the poor little thing had never been so far
indoctrinated, as to understand that, with God, a thousand years are as
one day, or a watch in the night, and one day as a thousand years, with
no past, and no future, but one everlasting present.
No. 26. Another little woman, being asked by her Sunday-school teacher,
"What did the Israelites do after passing through the Red Sea?"
answered, "I don't know, ma'am, but I guess they dried themselves." And
why not, pray? What would be more likely?
No. 27. And here we have one exceedingly jealous for the Lord. A little
boy, who, whenever he went out to play, was plagued and pestered by a
little girl somewhat older--who squinted awfully, and was, it must be
acknowledged, absolutely frightful--on being asked why he was always so
_ugly_ to Susie Bates, since God made Susie Bates as well as him,
exclaimed, "O, Nurse Thompson, ain't you ashamed to talk in that way
about the good Lord?"
Will you tell me that child did not reason? or that, _as_ a child, he
was irreverent, because he would not charge God foolishly, nor hold the
Great Workman answerable for such workmanship?
No. 28. And this brings to mind the following incident: Some years ago
my own little boy went, with his brother Robert, on a trip to the
Islands. After awhile, he was caught making the most horrible faces at
another little boy, somewhat older, who sat in the stern of the boat a
long way off, but fronting them. Brother Robert interfered, and asked
what possessed my little fellow--a good-natured, pleasant boy, as ever
lived. "Why, don't you see? He's making faces at me all the time," said
Pepper-pot. Upon further inquiry, it turned out that the strange boy was
epileptic, or troubled with St. Vitus' dance, and all the faces he had
been making were involuntary. Of course, it never entered the head of
our little one that the faces he saw were God's work, or he would have
lowered his voice to a whisper, as he always did in the Sabbath-school,
when he asked about God.
No. 29. That children are curious, and inquisitive, and rather
troublesome at times, we all know. But, if it were otherwise, how would
they ever learn their a b _abs_ in this world? In a Western village, a
charming little widow had been made love to by a physician. "The
wedding-day appointed was--the wedding-clothes provided." But among her
children was a poor crippled boy, who had been allowed full swing ever
since the death of his father. "Georgie," said the mother, calling him
to her, "Georgie, I am going to do something pretty soon that I should
like to have a little talk with you about." "Well, ma, what is it?" "I
am going to marry Dr. Jones in a few days, and I hope----" "Bully for
you, ma! _Does Dr. Jones know it?_" Who that wears a cap would not
sympathize with that poor widow?
No. 30. But children are soothsayers and prophets; and they have open
visions, it may be, if we would but listen to their low breathing.
"Father," said a little Swedish girl, one still, starry night, after a
long silence, "father, I have been thinking if the wrong side of heaven
is so beautiful, what must the right side be?" Was not this a
revelation? and such a revelation, too, that even her father must have
been astonished? Was it not as if her whole character had been revealed
to him, on her way upward, as by a flash from the empyrean?
No. 31. But we must be patient with all anxious inquirers. In a small
Western village, there was a store kept by a nice young woman, who was a
teacher in the Sabbath-school, and deeply interested in all that
concerned that institution.
"Do you go to the Sabbath-school?" said she, one day, to a dirty little
chap, who came blundering through the establishment, as if he had taken
it for the play-ground.
"Sabbath-school! what's that?" said he.
"Don't you know? Why, a Sabbath-school is where we read in the Bible,
and learn all about God, and our blessed Saviour, and the----"
"O," said he, "I've read about God, and _t'other feller that killed his
brother_, in the School Reader. Tain't no use my goin' to school Sunday;
I know all about 'em." Whereupon the young lady teacher "dried
up"--wilted, perhaps--and set her trap for another young reprobate.
No. 32. "A little three-year-old," says a neighbor, "was in the habit of
helping himself to crackers without leave, by lifting the lid of a tin
box, and plunging his little arm in up to the elbow. One day, after
listening to stories about rats, he went after a cracker, and hearing a
noise that he fancied was made by rats, he scampered back to the
sitting-room, with big eyes and a flushed face, and assured his mother
that he wasn't afraid. 'O, muzzer!' said he, 'I ain't afaid o' _wats,
but I'se so tired I couldn't lift the cover_!'" How many grown people
have you heard guilty of a similar subterfuge. Not afraid, to be
sure--not they--but only somewhat hurried, or having just remembered an
engagement, as they were about lifting the lid of something dangerous.
No. 33. And here is a case of downright special pleading, worthy of Lord
Coke himself, or Saunders, or Theophilus Parsons, or Chitty, or Judge
Gould. "Oh, Tommy, that was abominable in you, to eat your little
sister's share of the cake!" "Didn't you tell me, ma, that I was always
to _take her part_?" said Tommy.
No. 34. "George," said a minister to one of the little boys, who looked
as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, "where is your sister Minnie?"
"Gone to heaven, sir." "What!--is she dead?" "O, no, sir; she went to
buy a box of matches." "Why, you said she had gone to heaven." "Yes,
sir--but you said last Sunday that matches were made in heaven, and so I
thought she went there."
N. B.--I don't believe a word of this; but if true, all I have to say
is, that, like the princes in the tower, it is well that such children
are not often allowed to grow up. "Whom the gods love die young," said
the ancients; but I say, Whom the gods love die of old age--unless they
have been snuffed out for their untimely brilliancy.
No. 35. "Father, I don't like the bishop." "Why, dear?" "Because he
sprinkled water all over my new frock, and said '_Fanny, I despise
thee!_'"
No. 36. A little girl of seven years, who had been brought up to go to
_meeting_, and knew nothing about a church, high or low, was taken by a
friend to the Episcopal church on communion day. Returning home, she
was asked by her father how she liked the service. "Well, papa," she
answered, "I must say that I don't like to go to a place where the
minister _has to change his shirt three times in meeting_." Ritualistic,
High-Church ceremonies, the young lady was not quite prepared for.
No. 37. A certain little Sissy, being worried by a big brother till she
was out of all patience, plumped down upon her knees, where she stood,
and cried out, "O Lord! bless my brother Tom. He lies--he steals--he
swears; all boys do--we girls don't. Amen!" Was the poor thing a little
pharisee in her indignation, without knowing it? or was she only--like
most of us who are loudest in our outcries for the salvation of
others--a little overburdened with self-righteousness?
No. 38. _Small boy on tip-toe to his playfellows._--"Now you hush there,
all of you."
"Why, what's the matter, Bobby?" "Well--we've got a new baby. It's very
weak and tired, and walked all the way from heaven last night; and you
mustn't be kicking up a row here now."
No. 39. _Little Tommy._--"I say, ma, is it true that we are made out of
the dust?"
_Ma._--"Yes, Tommy; so we are told."
_Tommy._--"I'll be hanged if I can believe it; 'cause you see, if we
was, when we sweat, wouldn't we be muddy?"
That boy was a Transcendentalist, and no mistake.
No. 40. _Natural affection betraying itself._--A man of influence and
character was dying slowly of consumption. Being satisfied that his days
were numbered--his very breathings counted--he used to call his little
son to the bed-side, the pet of the household, and say to him, whenever
he wanted any little thing done, that by and by, after he was dead and
buried, the horse and carriage, and money-box, would all be little
Sammy's. At last the father died, and the little fellow, then about five
years of age,--with his grandfather and mother, were about leaving the
graveyard,--snatched the reins from his grandfather, and sung out, "_Get
up, old hoss! You's mine now, carriage, money-box and all!_" Had he been
a few years older, he would have kept the secret to himself, and
peradventure looked sorrowful over the untimely inheritance.
No. 41. Little Frank had been told to believe that we are all made of
dust. One day, as he stood watching at the window, while a strong wind
was whirling the dust into eddies, and hurrying it away into holes and
corners, and there piling it up with the dried leaves, his mother asked
him what he was thinking of. "O," said he, with uncommon seriousness
for so young a philosopher, "I thought the dust looked as though there
was going to be another little boy."
No. 42. A very little chap, who would no more have thought of going to
bed without saying his prayers, than of going to bed without his supper,
while the goodies were in sight, had just bidden everybody good-night,
with a warm, loving kiss. That very day his mother had been teaching him
the lines, "You'd scarce expect one of my age," and so he began his
little prayer in the following fashion: "Now I lay me down to sleep, I
pray the Lord my soul to keep; if I should chance to fall below
Demosthenes or Cicero, don't view me with a cricket's eye, but----"
"Hush, hush!" said his mother; "O hush, my boy! that's no part of the
prayer."
"Yes it is too, mamma--don't view me with a cricket's eye," etc., etc.
Didn't that mother laugh a little to herself, think you? I'll bet she
did.