Wednesday, December 30, 2015

  "In childhood, we live in God's creation, as in the carefree shelter of some Eden; the innocent in a garden of fruits, where the tillage demands no toil, and with smallest restraint, we have little else to do but gather and enjoy: and the utmost duty is to abstain, rather than to do; to keep the lips from forbidden fruits, we  needn't worry about the labor and sorrow of the brow or of the soul, in order to earn and multiply the bread of nature, or of life. And many alas! there are, who make their life this sort of holiday thing unto the end, and retain its childishness, only, from the nature of things, losing all its innocence; strolling through it as a mere fruit-gathering place, a garden of indulgence, a Paradise, sacred no more, because it's empty now of God, and unvisited by the murmurs of his voice." Martineau.   

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