very busy about something, he could not tell what; when the father, after much observation, and some surprise, discovering himself, asks the child what he was doing, and so sits down by him; which question begins

THE FIRST DIALOGUE.

I was looking up there (says the child, pointing up in the air.)

Fath. Well, and what did you point thither for, and then point to the ground, and then to yourself afterwards? what was that about?

Child. I was a wondering, father.

Fath. At what, my dear?

Child. I was wondering what place that is.

Fath. That is the air, the sky.

Child. And what is beyond that, father?

Fath. Beyond, my dear; why, above it all there is heaven.

Child. Who lives there, father? My nurse talks of heaven sometimes, and says God is in heaven. Is that the place up there?

Fath. Yes, my dear.

Child. Why, father, does God dwell there? Sure it is a fine place. How do we know that he dwells there? Have you been there, father?

Fath. No, my dear; but we know it two ways. 1. The scriptures tell us heaven is his throne; that he has spoken from heaven, and has been seen come down from heaven; and the Son of God was seen to ascend into heaven. 2. Besides, child, he made heaven for his eternal habitation; and the making of, and preserving all things, is a token of his being, and of his being God.

Child. But, dear father, my nurse tells me that God made me too; and that was it I was pointing to myself about. If God made me, how did I come from thence hither, father? I was a wondering, for it is a huge way.

Fath. Child, God made you by the course of nature. Having made the whole world, at first, and all the things therein, he gave a command, and with that command gave a power, to nature to grow and increase. By virtue of that command, every thing increases, and every creature is pro. duced by its own kind. But at first all was made by his infinite power who made the whole world.

Child. Why father, did God make all those creatures we see about us, this grass, and the trees, and these cows and horses, and the dogs and cats, and every thing?

Fath. Yes, my dear; he "made heaven and earth, and the sea, and all that in them is," as you read in your commandments, child.

Child. And what a creature am I, father? I an't like them; I can speak; they can't speak, father.

Fath. No, child, you are not like them. God has made you a rational creature, and given you a soul.

Child. A soul, father! what is that?

Fath. It is a part of his own image stamped upon you, and the breath of an invisible power, by which you can think of things to come, and remember things past; reflect, argue, and know both yourself and him that made you.

Child. Why, dear father, cannot the horses and cows do so too?

Fath. No, child, not at all.

Child. Why, has he made me a better creature than they?

Fath. Yes, he has, and has given them to you for food and service. Don't you see that we eat them, and ride upon them, and the like?

Child. I am glad I am made a better creature than they. I'd thank him for it, if I knew how. Should I not do so, father?

Fath. Indeed you should, child.

Child. But you never told me so before, father, as I ren.ember.

Fath. Not so often as I should have done, child; but remember it now, my dear [and kisses him].

Child. So I will-But how must I thank him for it, father?

Fath. You must pray to him to bless you, child, and then give thanks to him for your creation and preserva

tion.

Child. Do you do so, father?

Fath. Yes, child.

Child. O, ho; because I never heard you do so, father.

Fath. Well, but you have been taught.

Child. Yes, my mother and my nurse taught me to say my prayers; but I don't see a word there that thanks God for making me a boy, not a horse or a cow, or giving me a soul, father.

Fath. But it is included, child, when in the beginning of your prayers you say, "Our Father"-For God is a father in giving you a soul, as well as a creator in making your body.

Child. But may I not say so in my prayers, then?

Fath. Yes, child, if you were taught.

Child. Indeed I can say that without teaching; sure I can thank God for giving me a soul, and making me better than the horses and the cows, without my nurse. I wish I had known it sooner, father. Won't God be angry that I

never thanked him for it yet?

Fath. I hope not, child, since you did not know it. Child. Dear father, won't God be angry with you that

you never told me before?

Fath. Indeed he has reason.

Child. Dear father, why did not you tell me?

[Here the child cries, and the father blushes, or at least ought to have done so.]

Fath. Well, child, do not cry: come, take care you thank God for it, now you do know it.

Child. Indeed I'll thank him for it; for my heart jumps within me, to think he has made me better than other crea

tures.

Fath. My dear child!

[The father is moved with the child's expression, and kisses him.]

Child. But, dear father, if God should be angry with me for thanking him, will he not take this soul away again, and turn me into a horse or a cow ?

Fath. No, child; God does not punish that way. It is true, God may take away the use of it, take away the reason, or the speech, or the senses, and leave you in some kind worse than if you had no soul at all; he may do all these things, and more.

Child. Then should not I, when I say my prayers, remember to pray, that God would not be angry that I never thanked him for it before?

Fath. Your nurse will teach you to do so.

Child. Indeed, father, I'll do that, whether my nurse teaches me or no. Sure, if God made me, I may pray to him not to be angry with me. If you were angry with me, father, I don't want my nurse to teach me to come and say, My dear father, do not be angry. Besides, if God has made me so much better than other things, won't he teach me to thank him for it?

Fath. I hope he will, child.

Child. But, dear father, wherefore has God made me better than other creatures? Had he not some reason for doing so?

Fath. No reason, child, on thy side.

Child. But does not God expect then that I should do something that the cows and horses cannot do? Is there not something for me to do for it?

Fath. Yes; indeed there is, child.

Child. What is that, father? for I have been wondering what my business is in this world, as well as how I came hither. What am I to do here?

Fath. You are to live here to the glory of him that made

you.

Child. How's that, father?

Fath. You must fear God, and keep his command

ments.

Child. What, the ten commandments, father?

Fath. Yes, my dear.

Child. Truly, if God has made me, and made me better than the rest of his creatures, and take away from me, as you said, father, all that he has given me, and make me worse than the cows and horses, sure I should do what he commands me.

Fath. That's true, child.

Child. But mayn't I do more than that? Mayn't I love him too, father? for sure he loves me, or else he would not have made me so, and given me all this.

Fath. Yes, child, you must love him too.

Child. But, father, that is not in my commandments; won't God be angry with me if I should love him?

Fath. No, child, to obey God, and to fear God, is to love God; for to fear him as your father, and to serve him as your father, is to fear him and to serve him as a child; and that is to love him. Don't you love me, my dear? Child. Yes, dear father.

Fath. Why do you do what I bid you? and why do you cry when I am angry with you?

Child. Because I love you, dear father.

Fath. So, if you fear God, and serve God as your father and as his child, that is, loving him; for "they that love him keep his commandments."

Child. Indeed I think it need not be put into my commandments; for sure when we know what he has done for us, to make us souls, and not make us like the horses and cows, we must needs love him. Don't you love him, father?

Fath. Yes, my dear.

Child. And do not every body else love him, father?