"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.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
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