Challis for once committed a breach of good manners. The import of the thing suddenly appealed to his sense of humour: he began to chuckle and then he laughed out a great, hearty laugh, such as had not been stirred in him for twenty years. "Oh! forgive me, forgive me," he said, when he had recovered his self-control. "But you don't know; you can't conceive the utter, childish absurdity of setting that child to recite the multiplication table with village infants of his own age. Oh! believe me, if you could only guess, you would laugh with me. It's so funny, so inimitably funny." "I fail to see, Mr. Challis," said Crashaw, "that there is anything in any way absurd or--or unusual in the proposition." "Five is the age fixed by the State," said Mr. Forman. He had relaxed into a broad smile in sympathy with Challis's laugh, but he had now relapsed into a fair imitation of Crashaw's intense seriousness. "Oh! How can I explain?" said Challis. "Let me take an instance. You propose to teach him, among other things, the elements of arithmetic?" "It is a part of the curriculum," replied Mr. Forman. "I have only had one conversation with this child," went on Challis--and at the mention of that conversation his brows drew together and he became very grave again; "but in the course of that conversation this child had occasion to refer, by way of illustration, to some abstruse theorem of the differential calculus. He did it, you will understand, by way of making his meaning clear--though the illustration was utterly beyond me: that reference represented an act of intellectual condescension." "God bless me, you don't say so?" said Mr. Forman. "I cannot see," said Crashaw, "that this instance of yours, Mr. Challis, has any real bearing on the situation. If the child is a mathematical genius--there have been instances in history, such as Blaise Pascal--he would not, of course, receive elementary instruction in a subject with which he was already acquainted." "You could not find any subject, believe me, Crashaw, in which he could be instructed by any teacher in a Council school." "Forgive me, I don't agree with you," returned Crashaw. "He is sadly in need of some religious training." "He would not get that at a Council school," said Challis, and Mr. Forman shook his head sadly, as though he greatly deprecated the fact. "He must learn to recognise authority," said Crashaw. "When he has been taught the necessity of submitting himself to all his governors, teachers, spiritual pastors, and masters: ordering himself lowly and reverently to all his betters; when, I say, he has learnt that lesson, he may be in a fit and proper condition to receive the teachings of the Holy Church." Mr. Forman appeared to think he was attending divine service. If the rector had said "Let us pray," there can be no doubt that he would immediately have fallen on his knees. Challis shook his head. "You can't understand, Crashaw," he said.