I HAVE written a Book.
For whom is it written? and what is it about?
One word will answer both those questions.
That is strange. Can you guess what that word is?
It is Children!
Yes; my book is for Children, and it is about Children: but the Children I have written for are not the Children I have written about. I have written for all kinds of Children—Poor Children, Rich Children, Sick Children, Well Children, Happy Children, Sorrowful Children, Lonely Children, Thoughtful Children, and even those Children who scarcely can sit quiet long enough to think about anything—shall I say Thoughtless Children? but I hope that even they will read or hear my book, and will think a few thoughts about it; for though they love to run and jump and laugh, I hope they also love, or at least seek, to obey, and that when Mamma or some friend says, "Now Fanny," or Charlie, or whatever the name of this lively child may be (and I dare say if I filled a page with names there would be children found to answer to each one of them), "You must sit down and be quiet," they will be glad to look into my book during the quiet moment.
So you see I have written for all kinds of Children, and every one of you may say, "This book was written for Me!"
But what Children have I written about?
Not nearly so large a number.
The number of the first company I cannot tell; the number of the second is small, and, with a very few exceptions, those in it are the most honored of all Children.
Why do I call these Children honored?
Because of the place in which I find them.
If you walked through the streets of a large city, how many, many children you would meet, and you would not know much about them; but if, as you walked along, you saw children looking out from the windows of the houses in which they lived, you would know more about them; and your thoughts about the children who looked out from the windows of some palace or great mansion would be very different from your thoughts about the children who looked out from the windows of poor little cottages or dismal garrets.
Now, I find the Children of whom I have written in a place above all palaces and all mansions: I find them in the pages of God's Holy Book, the Bible; and this is why I call them honored, and this is why I am anxious to occupy your thoughts with them; for if God has graciously condescended to tell us about such simple things as Children—Children's needs, Children's faults, Children's sorrows, Children's blessing—He surely means that Children, in all times, should gain special instruction from such parts of His Wonderful Book.