At my uncle's, religion
was rather more tiresome, because they made it an employment; with
my master I thought no more of it, though my sentiments continued
the same: I had no companions to vitiate my morals: I became idle,
careless, and obstinate, but my principles were not impaired.
I possessed as much religion, therefore, as a child could be
supposed capable of acquiring. Why should I now disguise my
thoughts? I am persuaded I had more. In my childhood, I was not a
child; I felt, I thought as a man: as I advanced in years, I mingled
with the ordinary class; in my infancy I was distinguished from it.
I shall doubtless incur ridicule by thus modestly holding myself up
for a prodigy- I am content. Let those who find themselves disposed to
it, laugh their fill; afterward, let them find a child that at six
years old is delighted, interested, affected with romances, even to
the shedding floods of tears; I shall then feel my ridiculous
vanity, and acknowledge myself in an error.
Thus when I said we should not converse with children on religion,
if we wished them ever to possess any; when I asserted they were
incapable of communion with the Supreme Being, even in our confined
degree, I drew my conclusions from general observation; I knew they
were not applicable to particular instances: find J. J. Rousseaus of
six years old, converse with them on religious subjects at seven,
and I will be answerable that the experiment will be attended with
no danger.
Pages:
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93