d squabbling with Mrs. Ledwich and Louisa
Anderson!"

"What do you think, Ritchie?" asked Ethel. "Is it not too bad that they
should have it all their own way, and spoil the whole female population?
Why, the last thing they did was to leave off reading the Prayer-book
prayers morning and evening! And it is much expected that next they will
attack all learning by heart."

"It is too bad," said Richard, "but Flora can hardly hinder them."

"It will be one voice," said Ethel; "but oh! if I could only say half
what I have in my mind, they must see the error. Why, these, these--what
they call formal--these the ties--links on to the Church--on to what is
good--if they don't learn them soundly--rammed down hard--you know what
I mean--so that they can't remember the first--remember when they did
not know them--they will never get to learn--know--understand when they
can understand!"

"My dear Ethel, don't frown so horribly, or it will spoil your
eloquence," said Margaret.

"I don't understand either," said Richard gravely. "Not understand when
they can understand? What do you mean?"

"Why, Ritchie, don't you see? If they don't learn them--hard, firm, by
rote when they can't--they won't understand when they can."

"If they don't learn when they can't, they won't understand when they
can?" puzzled Richard, making Margaret laugh; but Ethel was too much in
earnest for amusement.

"If they don't learn them by rote when they have strong memories. Yes,
that's it!" she continued; "they will not know them well enough to
understand them when they are old enough!"

"Who won't learn and understand what?" said Richard.

"Oh, Ritchie, Ritchie! Why the children--the Psalms--the Gospels--the
things. They ought to know them, love them, grow up to them, before they
know the meaning, or they won't care. Memory, association, affection,
all those come when one is younger than comprehension!"

"Younger than one's own comprehension?"

"Richard, you are grown more tiresome than ever. Are you laughing at
me?"

"Indeed, I beg your pardon--I did not mean it," said Richard. "I am very
sorry to be so stupid."

"My dear Ritchie, it was only my blundering-never mind."

"But what did you mean? I want to know, indeed, Ethel."

"I mean that memory and association come before comprehension, so that
one ought to know all good things--fa--with familiarity before one can
understand, because understanding does not make one love. Oh! one does
tha