The air would be dark and stifling. We should be
afraid to move,--lest we might hasten the last hour of some neighbor's
spiritual breath. Ah, how often have we unconsciously spoken the one word
which was poison to his fever!
Of the spiritual deaths, as of the physical, more than half take place in
the period of teething. The more one thinks of the parallelism, the closer
it looks, until the likeness seems as droll as dismal. Oh, the sweet,
unquestioning infancy which takes its food from the nearest breast; which
knows but three things,--hunger and food and sleep! There is only a little
space for this delight. In our seventh month we begin to be wretched. We
drink our milk, but we are aware of a constant desire to bite; doubts
which we do not know by name, needs for which there is no ready supply,
make us restless. Now comes the old-school doctor, and thrusts in his
lancet too soon. We suffer, we bleed; we are supposed to be relieved. The
tooth is said to be "through."
Through! Oh, yes; through before its time. Through to no purpose.
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