us 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
don't mind--you'll make him learn to dislike the Bible as much as other
boys dislike the birch-rod!"

"Sir," cried Mr. Thorpe, turning suddenly round, and severely
confronting Mr. Goodworth, "once for all, I must most respectfully
insist on being spared for the future any open profanities in
conversation, even from your lips. All my regard and affection for you,
as Mrs. Thorpe's father, shall not prevent me from solemnly recording my
abhorrence of such awful infidelity as I believe to be involved in the
words you have just spoken! My religious convictions recoil--"

"Stop, sir!" said Mr. Goodworth, seriously and sternly.

Mr. Thorpe obeyed at once. The old gentleman's manner was generally
much more remarkable for heartiness than for dignity; but it altered
completely while he now spoke. As he struck his hand on the table, and
rose from his chair, there was something in his look which it was not
wise to disregard.

"Mr. Thorpe," he went on, more calmly, but very decidedly, "I