It had for some time past occurred to my mind that a course of _regulated_ conversations on the first principles of religion would be very desirable from time to time, for this interesting child's sake: and I thought the Church Catechism would be the best groundwork for that purpose. "Jenny," said I, "you can repeat the Catechism?" "Yes, sir; but I think that has been one of my sins in the sight of God." "What! repeating your Catechism?" "Yes, sir, in such a way as I used to do it." "How was that?" "Very carelessly indeed. I never thought about the meaning of the words, and that must be very wrong. Sir, the Catechism is full of good things; I wish I understood them better." "Well, then, my child, we will talk a little about those good things which, as you truly say, are contained in the Catechism. Did you ever consider what it is to be a member of Christ, a child of God, and an inheritor of the kingdom of heaven?" "I think, sir, I have lately considered it a good deal; and I want to be such, not only in name, but in deed and in truth. You once told me, sir, that 'as the branch is to the vine, and the stone to the building, and the limb to the body and the head, so is a true believer to the Lord Jesus Christ.' But how am I to know that I belong to Christ as a true _member_, which, you said one day in the church, means the same as a _limb_ of the body, such as a leg or an arm?" "Do you love Christ now in a way you never used to do before?" "Yes, I think so indeed." "Why do you love him?" "Because he first loved me." "How do you know that he first loved you?" "Because he sent me instruction, and made me feel the sin of my heart, and taught me to pray for pardon, and love his ways; he sent you to teach me, sir, and to show me the way to be saved; and now I want to be saved in that way that he pleases. Sometimes I feel as if I loved all that he has said and done, so much, that I wish never to think about anything else. I know I did not use to feel so; and I think if he had not loved me first, my wicked heart would never have cared about him. I once loved anything better than religion, but now it is everything to me." "Do you believe in your heart that Christ is able and willing to save the chief of sinners?" "I do." "And what are you?" "A young, but a great sinner." "Is it not of his mercy that you know and feel yourself to be a sinner?" "Certainly; yes, it must be so." "Do you earnestly desire to forsake all sin?" "If I know myself, I do." "Do you feel a spirit within you resisting sin, and making you hate it?" "Yes, I hope so." "Who gave you that spirit? Were you always so?" "It must be Christ, who loved me, and gave himself for me. I was quite different once."