But the most difficult truth for a child to comprehend is, that we have a soul more precious than our body. Children are at first accustomed to talk about the soul; and the custom is advantageous--for this language, which they do not understand, is perpetually exciting them to have a (confused) notion of the distinction of body and soul, until they are able really to conceive it. In proportion as early prejudices are pernicious when they lead to error, so are they useful when they conduct the imagination to truth, until reason is gradually directed towards it by the force of principles. But, at length, we must fix _a true persuasion_--and how are we to set about it? Is it in plunging a young girl in philosophical subtleties? Nothing is worse calculated for it. We must confine ourselves to render clear and distinct to her mind, what she hears and speaks every day. As to her _person_, she is perhaps too well instructed in the knowledge of _that_: every thing induces her to flatter, adorn, and idolise it. An essential point is gained if you can inspire her with contempt for it, by observing something of greater value about her. Say then to a child who is capable of a little reasoning--Is it your soul that eats? If she answers absurdly, do not be harsh with her--but tell her mildly that the soul does not eat--It is the body that eats--the body, which resembles the brutes. Have brutes intellect--are they learned? _No_, the child will answer. But they eat, you will add, although they have no intellect: you see, therefore, that it is not the soul which eats--it is the body which takes food to nourish it--it is _that_ which walks, and which sleeps. And what does the soul do? It reasons--it knows every one--it loves certain things, and dislikes others. Go on, in a playful manner, "Do you know this table?" _Yes._ "You know it then?" _To be sure._ "You see clearly that it is not made like that chair, which is formed of wood, and not like the chimney piece, of stone?" _Yes_, the child will reply. Proceed no farther without being convinced, by her tone of voice, and by the child's eyes, that these simple truths have struck her. Then say--But does this table know you? You will see that the child will begin laughing, and ridiculing, as it were, such a question.--No matter: go on--Which loves you the best, that table or that chair? She will still keep laughing--but pursue the discourse--Is the window very wise? Then try to go further--Does this doll answer you when you speak to it? _No._ Why--has it no intellect? _No, none._ It is not then like you; for you know it, and it does not know you. But after death, when you will be under the ground, shall not you be like this doll? _Yes._ You will no longer feel any thing? _No._ You will no longer know any body? _No._ And your soul will be in heaven? _Yes._ Will it not then see God? _True, it will._ And where is the soul of the doll at present? You will perceive