fall asleep under it all. And you wonder--if they really like preaching
so well--why they do not buy some of the minister's old manuscripts, and
read them over on week-days, or invite the clergyman to preach to them
in a quiet way in private.

----Ah, Clarence, you do not yet know the poor weakness of even
maturest manhood, and the feeble gropings of the soul toward a soul's
paradise in the best of the world! You do not yet know either, that
ignorance and fear will be thrusting their untruth and false show into
the very essentials of Religion.

Again you wonder, if the clergymen are all such very good men as you are
taught to believe, why it is that every little while people will be
trying to send them off, and very anxious to prove that, instead of
being so good, they are in fact very stupid and bad men. At that day you
have no clear conceptions of the distinction between stupidity and vice,
and think that a good man must necessarily say very eloquent things. You
will find yourself sadly mistaken on this point, before you get on very
far in life.

Heaven, when your mother peoples it with friends gone, and little
Charlie, and that better Friend who, she says, took Charlie in his arms,
and is now his Father above the skies, seems a place to be loved and
longed for. But to think that Mr. Such-an-one, who is only good on
Sundays, will be there too,--and to think of his talking as he does of a
place which you are sure he would spoil if he were there,--puzzles you
again; and you relapse into wonder, doubt, and yearning.

--And there, Clarence, for the present, I shall leave you. A wide, rich
heaven hangs above you, but it hangs very high. A wide, rough world is