have the good hope, that remembrance of the teacher will help the scholar to keep the word he has been taught, and that, when present pupils pass from their care, they will carry away impressions and memories that will keep the great Book always precious, always fresh, and always true.

How can such an inspiration be obtained?

It is true, the best of teachers are Christian parents. Timothy found it so. Yet the excellence of that teaching arose from the possession of gifts. and a spirit that are by no means confined to parents. There are others who love little children besides those who bore them, and there is a vast deal of faithful and loving work bestowed upon them outside their own homes. It is not the parental relationship, but parental love that gives parents the influence for good they have on their children. And all who can bring the power of love, and the power of a saintly life, to bear on a child's life and heart, will share in the influence for good that will abide through all future years. All who are teachers of youth can thus have a holy partnership with Christian parents, in filling the lives of the young with much that will be helpful and sanctifying through all life. And there are many children without Christian homes whose hearts and lives have as almost their only elevating and holy influence the teaching of those engaged in such work as yours.

1.-The truth of God becomes impressive to the young when they are made to feel and believe it is the aim of the teacher to make it known to them. What I mean is, that young people quickly apprehend what is your chief motive in teaching them; and if they believe you are seeking faithfully to tell them of the truth which is life and salvation, your word will be all the more precious to them. Now, it is not every teacher who makes it apparent that the one and only motive in teaching is clearly and impressively to convey the lessons of the Divine Word. In this, as in many other kinds of service, we are exposed to temptation. There is the temptation, for example, of teaching the young chiefly in order to discharge a Christian duty. We prepare the lesson; we go through the form of teaching and examining the class; but our ruling motive may be only to get through the work, and to satisfy our consciences that we have done our duty in spending so much time in the Sabbath school, and in having put before the young people all we know; and we may be far more concerned to discharge our own consciences of a duty than to aim at clearly and impressively conveying the lesson to young minds. Ministers as well as teachers know what that temptation is--the temptation of preaching a carefully prepared sermon, and saying, "There, we have faithfully preached the Gospel, and our consciences are clear, whether the people believe it or not!" So a teacher may say, "Now, I have gone through this lesson faithfully, and my conscience is clear, whether they understand it or not!" And no one will more quickly apprehend than a child whether you are teaching because you want him to understand and love the truth, or because you want to get rid of a duty.

Again, there is the temptation of teaching the young chiefly for the pleasure of teaching, without reference to their apprehension or acceptance of what you say. To many devout persons it is very pleasant to discourse on themes they love, without any practical design being in view.

It is

Much of the pleasure of religious conversation consists in this;—we speak forth our convictions; we convey our information; we tell our experiences to personal friends, not because we are aiming at doing them good thereby, but because it is a pleasure to ourselves. So have I seen teachers teaching the young, very earnestly, very eloquently, saying many good and wise things, and yet giving one the impression that it was all because they enjoyed the talk themselves, and were pleased to have an opportunity of unburdening their minds, and not because they were really aiming at conveying the lesson to the young minds. It is good to take pleasure in our work; but it is not good to do the work for our pleasure only. good to preach an eloquent sermon, in which the preacher himself finds the chief delight; but it is sad for the souls that are before him if, while he pleases himself with his own performance, they are being starved. Let me note one more temptation. It is the temptation of being contented merely with faithfully and conscientiously conveying the lesson to the mind, and not aiming at lodging it in the heart and conscience. One of the ablest teachers I have known was one who perfectly mastered the lesson, and spared no pains to let his pupils clearly understand it in all its aspects, doctrinally and historically, save one. Even if it was a lesson on some direct Gospel theme, such as the work of Christ, he would explain clearly and fully all its bearings; but he never, I believe, made a child feel the deep spiritual lesson of it all— never made him realize that the work of Christ was for his soul, and that Christ was seeking his salvation. And yet he was a Christian man, who himself believed in and loved Christ. It seemed as if he thought his work was done when he conveyed the lesson to the mind, and as if the lodgment of it in the memory were enough.

Now, what we need to aim at, as teachers, is to keep before us the value of the truth we convey, and the deep need that every child has of that truth for present blessedness and peace. We have so to teach the lessons of the Divine Word that the young people shall see that it is our one aim to convey the Word to them because of its unspeakable value;—not to discharge a duty only, not to gratify ourselves, not merely to make them understand the Word, but to value and love it as the Word of Life and peace for them and for us. If they can but have this recollection of our teaching, that we taught them the Word because they saw we loved it— because they saw we prized it as the best blessing for them, then, in the after years, they will keep fast hold of the truth for our sakes-" of whom they have learned" the Scriptures.

2.-All teaching of the young becomes impressive and memorable when it is seen in the life of the teacher. It was so in the case of Lois and Eunice. They evidently lived what they taught, and all their teaching was but an unfolding of the truth which appeared in their lives. That is the most memorable teaching of all. The lessons may be forgotten, in so far as they have been addressed to the understanding and memory, but they will live if they have been enshrined in a holy life. I can speak of what I know. My Sabbath school teacher was an intelligent man, well read in the Scriptures, but he had no great teaching faculty. Most of the lessons he taught, and the things he said, I have forgotten, but I have never forgotten, and never can forget, his intense love for the souls of

young people, his deep reverential love for the Word of God, and his saintly and Christly life. What he lacked in direct teaching power he more than made up for in his example. His accuracy in the smallest details, his punctuality, his methodic habits, his amiable and loving disposition, and the quiet serene happiness that beamed forth from his very eyes-all this, added to stern rectitude and truthfulness in all his ways, made a picture of a human life which, to this day, I place alongside the Bible he taught; and that Bible is all the more precious because I remember the man of whom I learned much of its teaching long years. ago.

That is my strongest reason for declaring that only those teachers of the young who themselves are believers in Christ, and are humbly walking in His ways, can ever be successful teachers of the Divine Word to the young. If men and women, however intelligent and diligent in attendance on their duties as teachers, do not show in their own spirit and conduct the excellence of the Word from which all right and true life is guided, they may, no doubt, do a certain amount of good in conveying to young minds truths and lessons which are valuable in themselves, apart from those who teach them; but they will never leave such an influence as was left on Timothy's life, who not only knew the Scriptures, but who in his heart of hearts knew and remembered "of whom he had learned them," and whose memory lighted up the whole of God's Word with the glow of tender and reverent affection for those from whom it had come to him. Believe me, your pupils will, of their own accord and without prompting, be very ready to apply the teaching they find in your lives, which they will take as the living and practical commentary on the Divine Word. If by your example you touch their hearts and consciences, if they can see that you are day by day applying to yourselves the lessons you are teaching them, if they can see that you have already found for yourselves the blessings which you are teaching them to seek in the Divine Word, they will see the Bible in you, its teachings in you, Christ in you; and in after years all this will make a grand argument for and in defence of the Divine Word, amid all doubts and all difficulties, because they will be able to say, "I know this Book is true and Divine, for I have seen its truth and its Divine power in that life from which it came to me as a child; I know that in Christ is life, and goodness, and the blessed hope of eternal life; for all these have I seen in the life that with human lips and a loving heart poured forth these precious thingsto me."

(To be continued.)

What to do this Summer.

A WORD TO SENIOR SCHOLARS.

I HAVE heard of a little girl who grew up to be a very wise woman partly from the way in which her father and mother trained her.

When she was only five or six years old, they made her look at grain in the fields, flowers by the roadside, men, women, children, and animals

in the street, and tell after a day or two what she remembered seeing. When she was eight or nine, she collected flowers and insects, and knew more about birds and their nests than many a grown-up person. All of you are old enough to begin to study something out of doors. You are going to have two months' play-time, and if you have nothing to do, you will be tired and count the days till school begins. Perhaps you will like to make a collection of something that you can keep fifty or sixty years, and shew to your grand-children. I mean a book of pressed leaves. Have you ever thought about the different shapes of leaves? How many of you know an oak-leaf, or even a tree from a maple, or an elm from a birch? Look at a dozen leaves, and you will see that some have smooth edges, others notched, and still others scalloped. Can you shut your eyes and think of the shape of an oak-leaf, and then open them and draw it on a slate? Even if you live in town, you can go into the parks and look at leaves, or plant seeds in the back-yard, and in the country you can see hundreds of trees all about you.

First ask your mother for a large old book that she does not use. If the paper is thin, you will need nothing else; if it is thick, get some old newspapers and put them between the pages. Then some clear bright day go out of doors and look for leaves. Do not go too soon after rain, or early in the morning when they are covered with dew, for they will lose their colour and soon fall in pieces if they are pressed while wet. Perhaps you will find two or three different kinds the first day; we will

say a rose, an elm, and an oak-leaf. Look at them and see if any two of

them are at all alike. Hold them up to the light to find the little network of veins running through them, and count the ribs branching from the one in the middle.

What is the difference in the edges? The next day, perhaps, you will pick the leaf of a lily of the valley. Are the veins like those of the first leaves? Of what use do you think the veins are? Do you think that they are at all like your veins, that you can see plainly if you let your hands hang by your sides for a minute or two?

Look at your leaves every day, and if you find your pages growing damp, get dry newspapers, or change to another part of the book. Some rainy day, when the leaves are pretty well pressed, ask for a blank book. There may be an old one that nobody wants lying about the house. Then write your name, or ask somebody to write it for you, with "Leaves, 1885," on the first page. Put as many leaves as you can on each page without crowding, and if you don't know how to spell their names, ask, and write or print them in your very best hand. Fasten them by little strips of paper gummed across the stems. This is a better way than covering their backs with mucilage, which makes them crack.

You will soon begin to see a difference in the shape of trees and bushes. By-and-by, perhaps, you will read something about "rugged_elms," and will wonder what they can be, because elms are so graceful. If you have learned to use your eyes you will perhaps read on the label of some tree in the park, the words "English elm," and then you will see how different it is from the American elm, and will know what the ruggedness

means.

Be very careful not to leave your books open on the floor or table, and

your leaves blowing all over the room. There is nothing that will make your mother so unwilling to have you collect anything as to see you careless and untidy in your ways of keeping it.-Youth's Companion.

How to Help Children in their Reading.

By REV. CHARLES H. RICHARDS, D.D.

BUNYAN tells us that when the devil sets out to capture Mansoul, Eyegate is one of his favourite points of attack. This is important to remember in the training of children-and especially with reference to their reading. The children of our day read prodigiously. Books and periodicals open to them another world from that of their every-day experiences. Through the imagination the printed page introduces them to other scenes and companions, as though they led a double life; and these often colour and mould character and conduct as powerfully as the scenes and associates of the active hours.

This throws a heavy responsibility upon their parents, teachers, and friends. For if there is anything in which a child needs guidance, restraint, encouragement, and help, it is in this matter of determining what and how to read. He should not be left to himself to devour indiscriminately whatever comes in his way, no more than he should be turned loose into a room where foods and poisons stand invitingly side by side. It is as dangerous for a child to grow up in the book-world alone, with no one to put him on his guard against the contaminations and perils that lurk there, as to let him grow up unfriended amid the temptations and dangers of a great city. Father, mother, day school teacher, Sunday school teacher, librarian, and all wise friends, have it as a sacred and urgent duty to look carefully after the children's reading, to know what they are reading and how they read it; and by wise counsel and assistance to put them on the track of such reading as will strengthen, enrich, and ennoble their lives.

When we ask how the elders can help the younger readers in this matter, the first answer that suggests itself is that they should guard them with utmost vigilance from bad books and papers. These include not only the indecent and salacious productions, which are read for the most part on the sly, being passed stealthily, and under pledge of secrecy, from hand-to-hand on their corrupting work. Children should be warned against these, and taught to loathe them as reptiles carrying the venom of hell, so that as soon as the serpent's head appears they will put the heel of indignant rejection instantly upon it and crunch it into the dust. But books containing copious descriptions of crime and criminals are also dangerous. Detailed biographies of vicious characters, the thrilling exploits of daring rascals, the presentation of crime in a jocular and airy manner, as though sin were funny instead of hateful, is very fascinating to some boys; it opens up to their excited imaginations a side of life that is novel and full of surprising episodes. But association with scoundrels breeds the scoundrel spirit, and the criminal classes are being