Apparently he did not. I knew the small boy rather intimately, and I was aware that his father, after the custom of most American parents, took the child into his confidence with regard to many other matters. The little boy was well acquainted with his father's political belief, for example. I had had early evidence of this. But it was not until a much later time, and then indirectly, that I saw that the little boy was possessed too of a knowledge of his father's religious faith.
[Illustration: "DO YOU LIKE MY NEW HYMN?"]
I was ill in a hospital a year or two ago, and the little boy came with his mother to see me. A clergyman happened to call at the same time. It was Sunday, and the clergyman suggested to my small friend that he say a psalm or a hymn for me.
"My new one, that daddy has just taught me?" the child inquired, turning to his mother.
She smiled at him. "Yes, dearest," she said gently.
The little boy came and stood beside my bed, and, in a voice that betokened a love and understanding of every line, repeated Mrs. Browning's lovely poem:--
"They say that God lives very high! But if you look above the pines, You cannot see our God. And why?
"And if you dig down in the mines, You never see Him in the gold, Though from Him all that's glory shines.
"God is so good, He wears a fold Of heaven and earth across His face-- Like secrets kept, for love, untold.
"But still I feel that His embrace Slides down, by thrills, through all things made, Through sight and sound of every place:
"As if my tender mother laid On my shut lids, her kisses' pressure, Half-waking me at night; and said, 'Who kissed you through the dark, dear guesser?'"
Beyond question the clergyman had expected a less unusual selection than this; but he smiled very kindly at the little boy as he said the beautiful words. At the conclusion he merely said, "You have a good father, my boy."
"Do you like my new hymn?" the child asked me.
"Yes," I replied. "Did your father tell you what it means?" I added, suddenly curious.
"No," said my small friend; "I didn't ask him. You see," he supplemented, "it tells _itself_ what it means!"
The things of religion so often to the children tell themselves what they mean! Only the other day I heard a little girl recounting to her young uncle, learned in the higher criticism, the story of the Creation.