“You can’t fob me off with long words, which I don’t understand, and which I don’t believe you can find in Johnson’s Dictionary,” continued Mr. Goodworth doggedly. “You would do much better to take my advice, and let Zack go to church, for the present, at his mother’s knees. Let his Morning Service be about ten minutes long; let your wife tell him, out of the New Testament, about Our Savior’s goodness and gentleness to little children; and then let her teach him, from the Sermon on the Mount, to be loving and truthful and forbearing and forgiving, for Our Savior’s sake. If such precepts as those are enforced--as they may be in one way or another--by examples drawn from his own daily life; from people around him; from what he meets with and notices and asks about, out of doors and in--mark my words, he’ll take kindly to his religious instruction. I’ve seen that in other children: I’ve seen it in my own children, who were all brought up so. Of course, you don’t agree with me! Of course you’ve got another objection all ready to bowl me down with?” “Rationalism,” said Mr. Thorpe, still looking steadily at the lithographed portrait of the Reverend Aaron Yollop. “Well, your objection’s a short one this time at any rate; and that’s a blessing!” said the old gentleman rather irritably. “Rationalism--eh? I understand that _ism,_ I rather suspect, better than the other. It means in plain English, that you think I’m wrong in only wanting to give religious instruction the same chance with Zack which you let all other kinds of instruction have--the chance of becoming useful by being first made attractive. You can’t get him to learn to read by telling him that it will improve his mind--but you can by getting him to look at a picture book. You can’t get him to drink senna and salts by reasoning with him about its doing him good--but you can by promising him a lump of sugar to take after it. You admit this sort of principle so far, because you’re obliged; but the moment anybody wants (in a spirit of perfect reverence and desire to do good) to extend it to higher things, you purse up your lips, shake your head, and talk about Rationalism--as if that was an answer! Well! well! it’s no use talking--go your own way--I wash my hands of the business altogether. But now I _am_ at it I’ll just say this one thing more before I’ve done:--your way of punishing the boy for his behavior in church is, in my opinion, about as bad and dangerous a one as could possibly be devised. Why not give him a thrashing, if you _must_ punish the miserable little urchin for what’s his misfortune as much as his fault? Why not stop his pudding, or something of that sort? Here you are associating verses in the Bible, in his mind, with the idea of punishment and being locked up in the cold! You may make him get his text by heart, I dare say, by fairly tiring him out; but I tell you what I’m afraid you’ll make him learn too, if you