THE SUNDAY SCHOOL

TEACHER'S GUIDE
By John Angell James, 1816

"He who wins souls is wise."

TABLE OF CONTENTS

The ultimate object of teaching

Qualifications for teaching

Manner of teaching

Duties of teachers to each other

Temptations of teachers

Discouragements of teachers

The teacher's zeal

Motives to diligence
 THE ULTIMATE OBJECT OF TEACHING

To the success of any exertions whatever, it is necessary that the

object to which they are to be directed, should be distinctly
understood. Any confusion on this point, will be attended with a
fluctuation of design, and an imbecility of endeavor, but ill calculated
to ensure success.

There is just ground of apprehension, that many who are engaged in

the work of Sunday School instruction, are but imperfectly
acquainted with its ultimate end.

It is to be feared concerning some, that in giving their assistance to

this cause, nothing further enters into their view, than
communicating to the children an ability to read and write. In the
estimation of such people, these sabbath institutions seem to rank no
higher than the ordinary schools, where the offspring of the poor
receive the elements of the most common education. Provided
therefore they can assist their pupils to read with tolerable facility,
and especially if they can teach him to write, they attain the highest
object of their desires, or expectations. How will such teachers be
surprised, when I inform them that the top-stone of their hopes is
but the foundation of their duties; and that the highest elevation of
their purposes, is but the very beginning of the ascent, which leads to
the summit of the institution.

I admit that where no higher aim than this is taken, though very far
below the proper mark, much benefit is likely to accrue to the
children themselves, to their immediate connections, and to society
at large. Where no effort to form the character, and nothing more in
fact is done, than simply to communicate the art of reading, a vast
advantage is conferred upon the children of the poor. It is the
testimony of inspiration "that for the soul to be without knowledge is
not good," and the whole history of man confirms the truth of the
remark. The very first rudiments of knowledge, independently of any
systematic attempt to improve the character, must have certainly a
moral tendency. In the very lowest elements of education, the soul
experiences an elevation, and however it may be precipitated back
again by the violence of its depravity, begins to ascend from the
regions of sense. Ignorance debases and degrades the mind. It not
only enslaves the intellect, but dims the eye by which the human
conscience traces the natural distinction between right and wrong.
"On the contrary," says Mr. Hall, "knowledge expands the mind,
exalts the faculties, refines the taste for pleasure, and in relation to
moral good, by multiplying the mental resources, it has a tendency to
elevate the character, and in some measure to correct, and subdue
the taste for gross sensuality." From hence it is obvious, that the very
least and lowest end which, as Sunday School teachers, you can
propose to yourselves in your labors, is fraught with benefits to the
interests of the poor. I wish however to remind you, that simply to
teach the art of reading, is the least and lowest end you can
contemplate.

Others, as the ultimate object of their efforts, connect with the

rudiments of knowledge, considerable attention to habits of order,
industry, and morality. They are most laudably anxious to form the
character of the children, so as that they may rise into life an
industrious, orderly, and sober race. This is of vast importance, and
subordinate only to what I shall afterwards propose as the ultimate
end of all your endeavors. Much of the peace, comfort, and safety of
the community depend upon the character, and the habits of the
poor. If society be compared to the human frame, they are the feet
and the hands, and how much do the ease and welfare of the whole
body depend upon the healthy state of the extremities. To tame the
ferocity of their unsubdued passions; to repress the excessive
crudeness of their manners; to chasten the disgusting and
demoralizing obscenity of their language; to subdue the stubborn
rebellion of their wills; to render them honest, obedient, courteous,
industrious, submissive, and orderly—should be an object of great
desire with all who are engaged in the work of Sunday School
instruction. It should be your ceaseless effort to reform the vices, to
heal the disorders, and exalt the whole character of the lower classes
of society, by training up their offspring in "whatever things are true;
whatever things are honest; whatever things are just; whatever
things are pure; whatever things are lovely; whatever things are of
good report." Then, to use the beautiful imagery of the prophet,
"instead of the thorn, shall come up the fir tree, and instead of the
briar, shall come up the myrtle tree."

Pleasing and important as such an object really is; delightful as it is

to produce in the bosom of a poor man a taste for reading, together
with a habit of thinking; and thus teach him to find entertainment at
home, without being tempted to repair to the ale-house; delightful as
it is to bring him into communion with the world of reason, and help
him, by the joys of intellect, to soften the rigors of corporeal toil;
delightful as it is to teach him to respect himself, and secure the
respect of others, by industrious, frugal, and peaceful habits; to assist
him to become the instructor of his own domestic circle, and thus to
raise him in their estimation; in short, delightful as it is, to strip
poverty of its terrors, and render it at least respectable by clothing it
with moral worth—this of itself, and alone, is far below the ultimate
object of your exertions. Higher even than this you must look for the
summit of your hopes. A man may be all that I have represented; he
may be industrious, orderly, moral, and useful in his habits, and still
after all be destitute of "that faith and holiness, without which no
man shall see the Lord."

Addressing you as believers in all that revelation teaches concerning

the nature, condition, and destiny of man, I must point your
attention to an object which stands on higher ground than any we
have yet contemplated. It is for you to consider, that everyone of the
children, which are every Sabbath beneath your care, carries in his
bosom, a SOUL as valuable and as durable as that which the Creator
has lodged in your own bosom. Neither poverty, ignorance, nor vice,
can sever the tie which binds man to immortality. Every human body
is the residence of an immortal spirit, and however diminutive by
childhood, or dark by ignorance, or base by poverty, or filthy by vice
the hovel might appear, a deathless inhabitant will be found within.
Every child that passes the threshold of your school on a Sunday
morning, carries to your care, and confides to your ability, a SOUL,
compared with whose worth the sun is a bauble; and with whose
existence time itself is but as the twinkling of an eye.

And as these poor children partake in common with you in the

dignity of immortality, so do they also in the degradation and ruin of
the fall. The common taint of human depravity has polluted their
hearts, as well as yours. They, like you, in consequence of sin, are
under the curse, and stand equally exposed to everlasting misery. To
them however the gracious scheme of redeeming mercy extends its
blessings, and indeed by the express provisions of the gospel charter
they stand first among the objects to whom salvation is to be
presented; "for the poor have the gospel preached to them." Denied
neither the privileges of immortality, nor the opportunity of eternal
happiness, so neither are they exempt from the obligations of
religion. Without the duties required in your own case, in order to
eternal life, they will never possess it. Faith, repentance, and
holiness; or in other words, regeneration, justification, and
sanctification, are as indispensable in their case, as in yours. Their
danger of losing all the rich blessings of salvation, unless great
exertions be made to instruct and interest their minds, is imminent,
and obvious. Dwelling in those walks of life where sin, in its most
naked and polluted form, spreads destruction around—corrupted by
their neighbors—nursed and nurtured in vice, in many cases by the
examples of their parents—in manufacturing districts, inhaling the
moral contamination with which the atmosphere of almost every
workshop is laden; how rapid is the growth of original corruption;
how luxuriant the harvest of actual transgressions which springs
from it—how little likely, without extraordinary efforts, are these
unhappy youths, to enter "the narrow path that leads to eternal life."

Such are the children which flock every Sabbath to the schools where
you are carrying on the business of instruction. Look round upon the
crowd of little immortals, by whom you are constantly encircled
every week; view them in the light, which the rays of inspired truth
diffuse over their circumstances; follow them in imagination not only
into the ranks of society, to act their humbler part in the great drama
of human life; but follow there down into that valley, gloomy with the
shadows of death, and from which they must come forth, "those who
have done well, to everlasting life; but those who have done evil, to
everlasting shame and contempt," and while you see them plunging
into the bottomless pit, or soaring away to the celestial city, say, what
should be the ultimate object of a Sunday School teacher's exertion?

You are now quite prepared to assent to my opinion on this subject,

when I thus state it. The ultimate object of a Sunday School teacher
should be in humble dependence upon divine grace, to impart that
religious knowledge; to produce those religious impressions; and to
form those religious habits, in the minds of the children, which shall
be crowned with the SALVATION OF THEIR IMMORTAL SOULS.
Or, in other words, to be instrumental in producing that conviction
of sin; that repentance towards God; that faith in the Lord Jesus
Christ; that habitual subjection in heart and life to the authority of
the scriptures, which constitute at once the form and power of
GENUINE GODLINESS.

Here then you see your object, and you perceive that it includes every
other in itself. To aim at anything lower than this, as your last, and
largest purpose; to be content with only some general improvement
of character, when you are encouraged to hope for an entire
renovation of the heart—or merely with the formation of moral
habits, when such as are truly pious may be expected, is to conduct
the objects of your benevolence with decency down into the grave,
without attempting to provide them with the means of a glorious
resurrection out of it. To train them up in the way of sincere and
undefiled religion, is an object of such immense importance, that
compared with this, an ability to read and write, or even all the
elegant refinements of life, have not the weight of a feather in their
destiny. And the truth must be told, that wherever a religious
education is neglected, the mere tendency of knowledge to the
production of moral good, is, in most cases, very lamentably and
successfully counteracted, by the dreadful power of human
depravity.

Sunday Schools, to be contemplated in their true light, should be

viewed as nurseries for the church of God; as bearing an intimate
connection with the unseen world—and as ultimately intended to
people the realms of glory with "the spirits of just men made
perfect." To judge of their value by any lower estimate; to view them
merely as adapted to the perishing interests of mortality, is to cast
the institution into the balances of atheism; to weigh them upon the
sepulcher; and to pronounce upon their value, without throwing
eternity into the scale.

THE SALVATION OF THE IMMORTAL SOUL, a phrase than which

one more sublime, or more interesting, can never drop from the lips
or the pen of man, describes your utmost, and noblest purpose.

In what way this object is most likely to be obtained remains now to

be considered.

1. Labor to impart to the children, as speedily as possible, a very

correct method of reading.

This is the first thing to be attended to, and as it is the basis of all
which is to follow, it should be done well. Considering an ability to
read, as I do every other part of Sunday School tuition, as a means
for the production of spiritual and moral good, I view it as of
immense importance that the children should be rendered as perfect
as possible in this initiatory art. Reading is a powerful auxiliary to
the progress of piety and virtue, but it is attractive only when it is
performed with facility; and therefore to allure the children to the
pages of revelation, or the perusal of other good books, it is necessary
to render their access as smooth as possible. If they have often to
spell a word, and still oftener to pass by a word which they cannot
spell, they will either be much impeded in their instruction, or
perhaps give up the matter in utter despair. If they do not acquire a
tolerable facility in reading while they are at the school, few have the
courage, the confidence, or perseverance, to pursue a course of self-
tuition after they leave it. It is of vast moment therefore that you
should take peculiar pains in this preliminary step of a religious
education of the children, in order that they may feel all that
inducement to read, which arises from the consciousness of being
able to do it with ease and correctness. I am apprehensive, that
admonition is exceedingly necessary on this head, and that very
many of the scholars leave our institution, most lamentably lacking
in this very ground-work of instruction.

2. You are to seek the great object of your labors, by a course of

religious instruction, judiciously adapted to the capacity of the
children.

I take it for granted that the business of every school is so arranged,

as to allow to the teachers a sufficient opportunity for explaining,
and enforcing the principles of religion.

And here I think it right to remark that, as the very groundwork of

religious instruction, it is of vast importance to produce, even from
its commencement, a sort of trembling reverence for the authority of
Scriptural revelation. From the time a child is capable of receiving a
sentiment on religion, he should be made to feel the obligation of the
word of God upon his understanding and conscience. The first idea
which should be communicated to his mind, and which in every
subsequent stage of education should be nursed and nurtured into a
conviction inseparable from all his moral feelings, is that the bible is
and must be true; and that however singular, however beyond the
range of our experience, or however miraculous any of its facts might
be; and however incomprehensible are some of its doctrines, still
they are all to be implicitly believed, because they are declared in the
word of God—so that one of the earliest, and strongest associations
of their minds, shall be formed between truth, and everything
contained in the holy scriptures.

From the beginning they should be instructed that all our

reasonings, and views, and feelings, are to be brought into subjection
to the inspired volume; and that from this authority, in matters of
religion, there does, and can lie no appeal. In order to this, the
evidences of revealed truth should be laid before them in a familiar
manner; and even before they are capable of estimating the weight of
proofs, we should endeavor to produce a powerful presupposition in
behalf of the bible. The reason for my insisting so much on this, is a
conviction, that among the lower classes of society, there is a great
deal of that low and ignorant skepticism which is produced in minds
incapable of reasoning, by ridiculing facts that are beyond their
experience, and truths that are above their comprehension. There is
a sort of practical and vulgar infidelity, which, like a spider amidst
the gloom and filth of a hovel, weaves its toils in the dwellings of the
poor, and who, in consequence of not being well grounded in the
persuasion that the bible must be true, whatever corrupt minds may
say against it, often fall into the snare, and become its hapless
victims.

What, therefore, I enjoin, is to endeavor that the children's minds

may be so rooted and grounded in the conviction of the truth of
revelation, that when a profane and artful opposer of the scriptures
shall attempt insidiously to shake their faith, by ridiculing any of the
facts or sentiments of the sacred volume, they may shudder at the
insinuation, and retire instinctively to the shelter of this immoveable
prepossession, the bible must be true.

Let it be an object of solicitude with you to impart in your pupils a

correct view of the leading truths of revelation. You know how to
treat the insinuation, that the doctrines of the gospel are quite
unnecessary in the instruction of children, and that their attention
should be exclusively confined to its moral precepts. Explain to them
the moral attributes of the great GOD; his holiness as opposed to all
iniquity—his truth as manifested in the accomplishment of his word
—his mercy which inclines him to pity the miserable. Teach them the
purity of his LAW as pronouncing condemnation on a sinful thought.
Endeavor to make them understand the exceeding sinfulness of SIN,
as breaking through all the obligations imposed upon the conscience
by the majesty and goodness of God. Strive to lead them to a
knowledge of the total corruption of their nature, as the source and
spring of their actual transgressions. Unfold to them their situation,
as under the wrath of God on account of their sins. Show them their
inability, either to atone for their guilt or renovate their nature. Lead
them to CALVARY, and develope the design of the Savior's death as a
sacrifice for sin, and teach them to rely upon his merits alone for
salvation. Direct them to the HOLY SPIRIT as the fountain of grace
and strength for the renewal of their hearts. In connection with this,
lay before them all the branches of Christian DUTY; those which
relate to God, such as faith, repentance, love, obedience, and prayer;
and those which relate to man, as obedience to parents, honesty to
their employers, kindness to all. Enforce upon them the obligations
of public worship. Particularly impress upon them, that genuine
religion, while it is founded on a belief of God's word, does not
consist merely of abstract feelings, or occasional duties, but in a
principle of submission to the revealed will of Jehovah, implanted
deep in the human heart, pervading the conduct, and spreading over
the whole character, so as to form a holy, moral, useful, happy man.

Such are the topics which you are to illustrate to the children;
unquestionably the most important which can engage their
attention. Much however depends on the METHOD you adopt for
explaining them.

Of course, you should allot a portion of time to the work of

catechism. The experience of all ages bears testimony to the utility of
this plan. If well improved, it affords a most favorable opportunity
for communicating religious knowledge. To accomplish this end, it is
necessary that you should do more than simply ask the questions,
and receive the answers as they are ranged in the book. To arrest and
engage the minds of the children, who consider it generally as
nothing more than a school exercise, you must descend to familiar
explanation. Every answer should be regarded as a text, which, by a
few plain short remarks, you should illustrate to their understanding,
and enforce upon their conscience. It would be found an excellent
method to explain one sabbath, what is to be committed to memory
during the week, and repeated as a task the next. As we always learn
with greater ease and pleasure what we understand, this would
facilitate the business of memory, and at the same time, through the
power of association, would perpetuate the ideas of the judgment, by
enabling the children to recall at home, what then had been taught at
school. This would prepare them for examination, which should
always take place when called upon to repeat the answers which had
been previously explained.

It would greatly aid the business of religious instruction, if the

children were encouraged to commit to memory hymns, and
portions of the word of God; especially the latter. The measure and
the rhyme of poetry, have attractions which, without great care on
the part of the teacher, are likely to induce a preference for hymns.
The inspired volume, however, should be elevated in their estimation
above every other book. The very words, as well as sentiments of
revelation, have a power and energy, which the language of
uninspired authors, however scriptural their opinions, does not
possess. Divine truth, expressed in divinely inspired language, often
strikes upon the conscience with a force which nothing else would
produce. As the children are likely to be influenced by other motives
than a simple regard to their improvement, the discretion of the
teachers should often be employed in selecting suitable passages of
scripture to be learned; especially remembering that, as whatever is
committed to memory should be briefly explained to the judgment,
they should be more anxious for their pupils to learn well than to
learn much.

In a little work which I have lately read, there is a passage which

admirably explains my meaning and views. The writer is delineating
the character, and describing the conduct, of a good teacher.

"Timothy called up his class, and the children repeated, each, one
verse in rotation, the following passage, which they had previously
committed to memory—

"But when the king came in to look at the guests, he saw there a man
who had no wedding garment. And he said to him, 'Friend, how did
you get in here without a wedding garment?' And he was speechless.
Then the king said to the attendants, 'Bind him hand and foot and
cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping
and gnashing of teeth.' For many are called, but few are chosen."
(Matthew 22:11-14)

"Timothy heard his children repeat this passage distinctly, and with
an audible voice. And now he was anxious to learn whether they
understood its meaning; he therefore affectionately asked them the
following questions; "Can you tell me, my dear boy (beginning with
the first boy in the class) who is meant by the king in this passage?"
"The Lord Jesus Christ." "And why is he called a king?" "Because he
has all power and authority." "Is not the Lord Jesus, God as well as
man?" "Yes; the bible tells me the word was made flesh, and dwelt
among us." "Does Jesus Christ know all our hearts?" "Yes; he that
formed my spirit must be intimately acquainted with it."—"Does the
Lord Jesus take particular notice of those who profess to be his
people?" "Yes; he came into see the guests." "Is he now present with
us?" "Yes." "Yes, my dear children, the Lord Jesus is now beholding
each of us. He sees who among you is giving heed, and who is
inattentive. He marks that little boy who listens to his voice; but he is
greatly offended with those who are whispering and do not regard
the truths of his holy word." "What did the king see when he came in
to view the guests?" "He saw there a man which had not a wedding
garment." "Can you tell me what is meant by the wedding garment?"
"It means the righteousness of Jesus Christ." "Are sinners naked who
are not clothed with this robe"' "Yes; our own righteousness are as
filthy rags." "What is meant by our own righteousness?" "Our own
good works." "Will not these entitle us to the favor of God?" "No;
God's law is perfect, and we can do nothing without a mixture of sin."
"Will you inform me, my dear boy, what you understand by Christ's
righteousness?" "His obedience unto death in our place." "What did
the Lord Jesus say to the man who had no wedding garment?"
"Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?" "Will
not God, in the great day, call sinners to a strict account?" "Yes."
"Will they then be able to excuse themselves?" "No; like this man,
they will be speechless." "What shall be done to those who have not
believed in Jesus?" "The king will say to his servants, bind them
hand and foot, and cast them into outer darkness." "Are sinners able
to resist the judgment of God?" "No." "No, my dear children; they
who at last come into condemnation, like this man, shall never be
able to resist it; like this man, who is bound hand and foot, they can
never make their escape. Gladly would they wish the rocks and the
mountains to fall on them, and hide them from the face of the judge;
but even this desire shall not be granted; they must endure the
punishment of their iniquities." "Are those who die in sin deprived of
the enjoyment of Jesus Christ, and holy angels?" "Yes; the king
orders them to be taken away." "Where does he command them to be
cast?" "Into outer darkness." "Children are generally afraid to be left
in the dark. But, oh, what must it be to be cast forever into the
thickest darkness! Think of it. You are happy when you see the
morning sun; but no morning shall ever rise on those miserable
creatures who die in a state of enmity to Jesus Christ." "How shall
they be employed in his darkness?" "In weeping, wailing, and
gnashing of teeth." "Do not these terms express great anguish?" "Yes;
they will forever lament that they rejected the salvation of Jesus
Christ." "Yes, my dear children, and if any of you follow their
example you will share in their punishment." "Must not all of us soon
appear before the judgment seat of Christ?" "Yes; our lives are
uncertain; we may be called in a moment to give an account of
ourselves to God." "What effect should this have upon us?" "It should
lead us to give earnest heed to the things that belong to our peace
before they are forever hidden from our eyes."

You have here a model which, in the communication of religious

instruction, you would do well to imitate. Select a passage yourselves,
and deliver it either to a whole class, or a part of it, to be learned by
the next sabbath, when it should become the subject of examination;
and in the mean time, consider what are the questions which it
naturally suggests, that you may be prepared for the task. This is a
most engaging and instructive method.

Another very judicious exercise for the children, is to propose a

question, and to require, by a given period, passages of scripture to
prove, and illustrate it; always remembering that the subjects of
inquiry be plain, easy, and adapted to the capacity of the children.
For the sake of example, I mention the following—

"What does the book of Genesis principally treat of?

"What were the principal acts of transgression committed by the

children of Israel in the wilderness, and in what way did God punish
them?
"Which of the prophets wrote most plainly of Jesus Christ; and in
what parts of his writings does he allude to him?

"In what passages of scripture is the divinity of Jesus Christ spoken

of?

"What did our Lord appeal to as a proof that he came from heaven,
and is the son of God?

"Where is the necessity of the new birth declared?

"In what passages are filial duties enjoined?"

Such exercises as these possess the happiest tendency. They are an

admirable discipline for the intellectual powers, and train the mind
to habits of reflection, and diligent inquiry. They call the thinking
principle into activity, and must produce considerable improvement
in the mental character of the poor. But these are the smallest
advantages of the plan; it leads to an engaging and enlarged
acquaintance with the word of God, and establishes a sort of
familiarity between the children and the bible, as the man of their
counsel, and the guide of their youth.

It would be well also occasionally to examine the children as to their

remembrance of the texts and sermons which they hear in the house
of God. This would keep their attention alive to what is delivered
from the pulpit, and lead them to recognize their own interest in the
solemnities of public worship.

Such, among other means of communicating religious instruction,

appear to me to be eminently adapted to promote this important
end.
3. But as very many know the theory of divine truth, without feeling
its influence on the heart, or exhibiting it in the conduct; as they
often see the right way; without walking in it; and as it is only they
who are renewed and sanctified by the truth, that will be eternally
saved, to secure the ultimate object of your exertions, you must labor
to produce religious impression, as well as communicate religious
instruction. I know it is God only who can reach the heart, but then
he does it generally by pouring out his Spirit on judicious and well
adapted means. Here then direct all your efforts, to awaken the
conscience, to interest the feelings, and to engage the whole soul in
the pursuit of salvation, and the business of religion. Let your aim be
visible in your conduct, so that the children may be convinced that
until they are brought to fear God, and serve him in truth, you do not
consider yourself to have attained the object of your labors.

Let all you do be characterized by an impressive solemnity. Take care

of treating sacred subjects with lightness. Never allow the holy
scriptures to be read but with the greatest reverence. Mingle a
devotional spirit with all you do. By all that is solemn, and all that is
moving in religion, admonish and exhort the children. Endeavor to
awe them by the terrors of the Lord, and melt them by his mercies.
Roll over them the thunders of Mount Sinai, and display to them the
moving scenes of Mount Calvary. Remind them of their mortality,
and encircle their imagination with the scenery of the judgment day.
Seize every event that the dispensations of divine providence may
furnish to aid your endeavors. Relate to them instances of early piety,
and at other times, cases of sudden and alarming dissolution. Watch
for the appearance of religious concern, as that which can alone
reward your labors, or satisfy your desire. Over every other kind of
excellence than true religion, exclaim, "Ah! 'tis well, 'tis good, so far
as it goes, but I want the fruits of immortality." When these begin to
show themselves, hail the first buds of genuine religion with delight,
shield them with a fostering care, and with a skillful hand direct their
growth.

THE QUALIFICATIONS WHICH EVERY

TEACHER SHOULD POSSESS

This is a part of the subject to which the attention of my readers
should be directed with the deepest interest, and most lively
solicitude. The following enumeration will furnish rather an elevated
standard; but instead of condemning it as too high, it should be your
endeavor to see how near you can approach it.

1. It is exceedingly important that you should be a partaker of real

religion.

By personal religion, I mean more than a general profession of

attachment to Christianity; more than a correct theory of religious
sentiments; more than a stated attendance upon devotional forms; I
mean an experimental acquaintance with the truths of the gospel, in
their consoling and sanctifying influence. 'Tis certainly very true, that
without such a state of heart, you may be useful in promoting the
subordinate ends of the institution, but can scarcely be expected to
reach that end which is ultimate, and supreme. You may perform the
humbler duties in this spiritual husbandry, of gathering out the
stone, and preparing the soil, but to cast the seed of the kingdom
must be left to other hands. You may, it is true, impart a knowledge
of letters, and teach the children to read even the book of God; but to
be the instrument of writing his laws upon their minds, and
inscribing them upon their hearts, is an honor to which without true
piety you cannot aspire.

The teacher who is earnestly seeking the eternal salvation of his

children, occupies a station as far above the level of another teacher,
who seeks nothing more than their temporal advantage—as the angel
flying through the midst of heaven is above the traveler who is toiling
across the low and sandy desert. If I were to delineate, in picture, the
emblem of a Sunday School teacher's duty and employment, I would
represent Faith and Love, like the two angels that conducted Lot
from Sodom, leading between them a poor child to the cross, and
while one is directing his eye to the means of salvation, the other
should be pointing him to the realms of eternal glory. But will this
apply to you without decided personal religion? Oh no! If you are
unconcerned about your own soul; if you gaze with a tearless eye
upon the immortal ruins that lie within your own bosom; how can it
be expected you will mourn over the spiritual desolation you see in
others? How can you teach an unknown God? How can you
represent that Savior as a pearl of great price, which to you is a stone
of stumbling? Can you illustrate in what manner the principles of
divine truth should constrain the conscience, and engage the
affections; how they should become the elements of a new existence,
and be breathed into the nostrils of the soul as the breath of spiritual
life? what, this without experimental religion? No! Of all things it is
most applicable to vital piety to be taught—it must be felt. And as you
will be without ability, so in the absence of this qualification, you will
be equally destitute of inclination, to seek the highest object of the
institution. Can you feel disposed to alarm, to stimulate, to admonish
others, in reference to the salvation of their souls, when every word
brings back upon yourself the keen reproach, "Physician, heal
yourself?" A tender conscience would not endure the insult; and to
keep peace in your own bosom, you must soon abandon those favors
abroad, which you refuse to bestow at home. If then you would start
in the career of wisdom, and become candidates for a prize, which
excites the ambition of two contending worlds, first become wise
unto salvation for yourselves, and then, as from this mighty impulse,
seek the eternal welfare of the children; "for he that wins souls is
wise!"

2. A teacher should possess an accurate, and tolerably extensive

acquaintance with divine truth.

It is not possible, neither is it desirable, to ascertain the lowest

measure of knowledge, with which true godliness is compatible. In
many cases, in reference to the piety of the heart, and the ideas of the
mind, it may be said, the light shines in darkness. Far, very far
removed from this dawn of divine truth in the soul, should be the
degree of knowledge which every teacher should seek to possess.
Your views should be clear and extensive. To much love in the heart
—you should seek to add much light in the mind. You should have
such an acquaintance with your bible, as to know to what parts of it
more particularly to direct the attention of your scholars. You should
have a competent knowledge of all its leading doctrines, and be able
to cite with readiness particular passages to support them. Without
this, how can you conduct the business of religious instruction with
much effect? Remember your class forms a kind of little planetary
system, of which, so far as instrumentality is concerned, you are the
central luminary. If conscious of any considerable defect in religious
knowledge, let your official responsibilities stimulate you to a more
diligent perusal of the word of God. With you it should be an object
of great desire not only to grow in grace, but also in the knowledge of
God and our Savior Jesus Christ. You should devote much time to
reading the scriptures and theological books. It would be found
exceedingly beneficial, if you were to study with great attention the
Assembly's Catechism, especially, if you can obtain it, the larger
catechism, with proofs. Here you would find a clear and concise view
of the doctrines and duties of divine truth, which, if stored in your
mind, would greatly advance your usefulness as a teacher.

3. Solemnity of deportment is indispensably necessary. Here I would

not be understood as wishing to envelope the schools of religion in
the gloomy shades of a melancholy moroseness. You should be as
remote from this disposition, as its opposite extreme, a trifling levity.
A teacher of glad tidings should not array himself in sackcloth; nor
should the messenger of mercy appear as sullen and repulsive as the
specter of the cloister.

Religion, when wrapped in gloom, will present but little that is

attractive to children; nor will they be able to conjecture, how a
countenance that is professedly lifted up amidst the light of heaven,
can present an aspect so gloomy, and so dark. Be it recollected,
however, that the cheerfulness which true piety inspires, is holy and
dignified like itself, and resembles, not the dissipating glare which is
thrown over a city by the gaudy lights of an illumination—but that
soft and soothing radiance which beautifies the face of nature on a
summer's eve. Religion has its smiles; they are not borrowed,
however, from the scenes of a ball room, but from the splendid
visions of eternity, and therefore, with the happiness of heaven,
partake something of its seriousness. The topics of immortality look
ill-placed in the hands of frivolity; and in such circumstances are
sure to lose much of their effect.

The authority of a teacher, of whatever description may be his pupils,

can be maintained only by a dignified sedateness of manners. If we
may judge from the frequency with which it is enjoined in the New
Testament, the Holy Spirit appears to attach great importance to this
disposition, since not only are the office-bearers of the Christian
church commanded to be serious and sober-minded, but even its
ordinary members, and especially young men are charged to show
seriousness and sincerity, as if it were hardly possible to be sincere in
religion, without being serious in deportment.

If you see the importance of such a disposition, you will be impressed

with the necessity of avoiding a showy, and expensive mode of dress.
These remarks apply, of course, more closely to female teachers. A
fondness for dress is one of the prevailing evils of the present day,
and unhappily it has crept down into the lower classes of society, and
imposes its tax upon those who are but not able to support it. It is
greatly to be feared, that of the multitudes of unhappy females from
among the poor, who have left the paths of virtue, great numbers
have been first led astray by this vain and expensive propensity.
Between wearing mirthful clothes, and a delight in exhibiting them,
the connection is almost inseparable in the disposition of ignorant
and little minds—while this 'love of display' has often been the first
thing to attract the eye of the seducer, just as the peacock, by
expanding his feathers in the sun, has sometimes caught the
attention of the vulture perched upon an eminence, and looking
round for his prey. If one may judge from the conduct of the lower
classes at the present time, they seem to be endeavoring to hide
beneath gaudy colors, the most distant approach to poverty. Ten
thousand evils will flow in upon society, and they have already begun
to flow, when people shall conclude that they are respectable, in
proportion as they are finely dressed.

How much is this disposition likely to be encouraged in the pupils, if

it be enforced by the example of the teacher! Your children must
have far more dignity of mind; far more solid reflection; and far
more just discrimination, than can be expected in their
circumstances, not to be fascinated with an exhibition, on your part,
of "broidered hair, or gold, or pearls, or costly apparel." To regard
these things with indifference, when constantly displayed before
their eyes, is too much to look for in them, when it is not found in
you. With such an object before them, a whole train of the very worst
feelings are likely to arise; admiration, envy, discontent, all are
rapidly engendered. The touch of velvet, and the gloss of satins;
together with feathers, flowers, and ribbons, have but little virtue to
reconcile them to the coarser textures, and the plainer lines of
poverty.

Permit me then to recommend the utmost simplicity and neatness of

apparel as of great importance in your office. Especially and
earnestly do I enjoin the most scrupulous MODESTY. Even a distant
approach to the indecency which has characterized some modern
fashions, would be offering poison to the morals of every child before
whom it is displayed. I am not enjoining baseness, much less
slovenliness or filthiness. These are a species of semi-vices wherever
they exist, and are to be counteracted in your children, by the
instruction of your lips, and the force of your example. What I
recommend may be all summed up in two words, modesty and
neatness; or to express it in the language of an apostle, "Your beauty
should not consist of outward things like elaborate hairstyles and the
wearing of gold ornaments or fine clothes; instead, it should consist
of the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable quality of a
gentle and quiet spirit, which is very valuable in God's eyes." (1 Peter
3:3-4)

4. A teacher should be intimately acquainted with all the general

proprieties of human conduct, which arise out of the distinctions of
society, and be deeply impressed with their importance.
You should not only clearly understand what is religiously and
morally right, but also have a keen perception of those minor
distinctions between right and wrong, which have been established
by the authorized laws of human fellowship. You should be
acquainted with the obligations of inferiors to superiors; and of
people in dependent stations in life, to those who are their
supporters or employers. You should be alive to all the little niceties
of behavior demanded by courtesy, and be able to declare to the
children the impropriety of any instance of rudeness, incivility, or
ingratitude. Christianity, instead of sinking the distinctions of
society, has elevated and guarded them; and indeed has employed its
most sublime and interesting motives, to enforce the minutest offices
of social life. The children of the poor, especially in large
manufacturing towns, are often exceedingly destitute of that
respectful deportment towards their superiors, which the order of
society necessarily requires. This defect, it is your duty, as much as
possible, to supply. A civil, submissive, respectful habit, is not to be
considered as merely constituting the polish of general character, but
in some measure preparing for religious impression. A crude, uncivil,
intractable youth, is the last in the school in whose heart holy
emotions are likely to be produced. He who feels little respect for
human authority, is yet far distant from bowing with humility before
that which is divine.

5. It is very necessary that "an instructor of babes" should be able to

communicate knowledge in a simple and familiar manner.

This is a talent peculiarly requisite in those who are entrusted with

the education of children. The mere possession of knowledge does
not qualify for the business of instruction, except it be attended with
an aptitude in communicating it. Every judicious teacher will
consider the character of his audience, and adapt his
communications to their capacity. If his sentiments be not
understood, he may as well talk in a foreign language. Children
require a very different mode of instruction, to what may be adopted
in the case of well-educated adults. They are ignorant of the first
principles of divine truth. Nothing, with respect to them, must be
taken for granted. You must assume nothing; everything is to be
communicated. Perhaps it is the fault of all teachers, not excepting
those who deliver their instructions from the pulpit, that they
proceed on the supposition that their audience have more knowledge
than they really possess. They take far too much for granted. This
must be particularly avoided in the case of Sunday scholars. Of by far
the greater number of them, it may be affirmed that they have not a
single idea on the subject of religion, but what they learn from you;
and you are to be very careful in presuming upon what they have
learned.

The same remarks will apply to language as to sentiments. Their

knowledge of words is as contracted as their range of ideas—and in
order really to instruct them, you must always remember the extent
of their vocabulary.

Your discourse cannot be too simple, and familiar, provided it be not

vulgar. "Nothing (says Mr. Cecil) is easier than to talk to children;
but to talk to them as they ought to be talked to, is the greatest effort
of ability. A man must have a vigorous imagination, and be able to
call in illustrations from the four corners of the earth; for he will
make little progress but by illustration. It requires great genius to
throw the mind into the habit of children's minds. I am surprised at
nothing which Dr. Watts did, but his hymns for children. Other men
could have written as well as he, in his other works; but how he wrote
those hymns I know not."
An aptitude to teach children then in their own way, while it is
necessary as a qualification, should be sought as an acquirement. I
know of no better method by which this talent may be acquired than
to read with attention, the most approved works which have been
written for children, in order to mark, and imitate the style there
adopted. Such, for instance, as Dr. Watts' Divine Songs for Children,
and Miss Taylor's Hymns for Infant Minds, together with any other
books, which manifest simplicity without baseness. If those who wish
to cultivate an elegant style, read standard works of elegance, surely
they whose office requires simplicity of address, should take the
same pains to excel in their appropriate attainment.

6. A heart most deeply interested in the work, is a very necessary

qualification.

This is a cause which leaves no room for the operation of those

principles, to which, in the general concerns of mankind, so large a
portion of human activity may be traced. Here neither avarice, nor
ambition, nor vanity—can have any place, or contribute in the least
degree towards success. Without a heart deeply interested in the
work, there can be no energy and no success. That teacher who feels
no conviction of the importance of the cause, and no solicitude about
its outcome, who has been led into the school by no motive at all, or
at best, no other motive than to follow the example, or gratify the
desire of others—has entered upon a station for which he is ill
qualified, and from which the sooner he retires the better. Without a
most benevolent attachment to the duties of your office, you cannot
perform them with much effect. This alone will carry you through the
difficulties, discouragements, and sacrifices, which it calls you to
sustain. Without such an anxious desire to be successful, as shall
constrain you to that activity which is requisite to ensure success,
you will do but little. 'Tis painful to observe with what a sauntering
indifference some people perform the duties of the school. They
begin with weariness and end with disgust. 'Tis very evident that
whatever they devote to the cause—they have never given their
hearts.

7. A patient temper is exceedingly requisite.

The business of instruction, especially the instruction of poor

children, who have everything to learn—will often require the very
utmost length of forbearance. You will meet with so much
constitutional dullness, so much heedless attention, so much willful
neglect, and so much insolent disobedience, that unless your feelings
are under considerable control, you will often be hurried into
excesses of impatience, disgraceful to yourself, and injurious to your
pupils. The little vexations and irritations which arise to try a Sunday
School Teacher's temper, are innumerable and unceasing. Yet to be
successful you must be patient. You must discipline your temper
until it is quite under restraint. A peevish or passionate manner,
excited by every little irritating circumstance, renders you
exceedingly unfit to deal with the untutored minds and habits of the
children of the poor. In many cases impatience in the teacher must
be exceedingly injurious to the improvement of the scholar.

Some minds are very slow in their advances, very timid in their steps,
and require the most affectionate forbearance, to be kept from utter
despair, and to be encouraged to go on at all. Harsh impetuosity here
would at once overwhelm them with confusion and dismay. Very,
very often is a pupil thrown into such inextricable disorder by a hasty
and terrifying sally of the master's impatience, that memory and
judgment both forsake him in his fright, and leave him the
motionless victim of injudicious anger. A person that has not
patience to communicate knowledge 'drop by drop', should never
think of undertaking the instruction of ignorant children, since it is
utterly impossible to pour it into their minds by 'copious streams'.
We have all forgotten how slow and unwilling we were to receive the
elementals of education, but as all children are very much alike in
this respect, we may calculate upon our own experience with respect
to others, as tolerably correct data of the pains that were taken with
ourselves, and find in this no weak motive to seek the qualification
which I now enjoin.

DIRECTIONS AS TO THE MANNER IN

WHICH A TEACHER

SHOULD DISCHARGE THE FUTIES OF

HIS OFFICE
Having disclosed to you the ultimate object of your exertions, and
prescribed the qualifications necessary for accomplishing it, I shall
now lay down some directions for the regulation of your conduct.

1. There should be a discriminating attention to the different

capacities, and tempers of the children.

A Sunday School may be considered as a plantation of young minds,

the plants of which grow in different ways, and blossom at various
times; each of them requiring a method of culture adapted to its
nature. Some need to be brought forward to the sun; others to be
thrown back into the shade. Some need to have their luxuriant
growth repressed; others to have it encouraged.

Children vary exceedingly in their capacities for learning. Perception

is more quick, memory more retentive, comprehension more
enlarged in some than in others. What would be industry in one,
would be indolence in another. Of this the teacher should be aware,
lest by expecting the same in both cases, he produce despondency in
the former, or nourish idleness in the latter. Nothing is more
discouraging throughout the whole range of education, than to have
the mind put upon exertions to which its faculties are unequal. The
spirit, in such a case, like a horse that has sunk beneath his burden,
lies down in despair, with scarce a struggle to rise. It is of immense
importance that you should know the real capacity of your children,
and that you should never require of them impossibilities. You will
often need much penetration to discriminate between a lack of
inclination, and a lack of ability—this, however, may be easily
acquired.

The temper, as well as the mind, will require the same judicious
attention. Some are timid, and will need great pains to produce more
confidence in themselves; others are forward, and must be
assiduously taught to be more cautious. Some are open and sincere;
others are artful and deceptive. Sometimes you will find a child of
such tenderness, that harshness would be like training the sensitive
plant with a bar of iron; and then again you will meet with such hard
incorrigible stubbornness in another child, that a lenient softness
would be like tying down the branches of the mountain oak with a
silken thread. Study then the character of the children. Minds, like
locks, are different—the same key will not open them all, yet a skillful
locksmith may be open them all.
It is astonishing what may be effected in the work of education, by a
little ingenuity and invention. There are some teachers who have a
certain medication which they administer in every case. They never
vary the application—a command, a threat, and a blow; and if this
does not succeed, the case is abandoned as too desperate. Whereas a
little variation in the mode of treatment, would have carried the
point, and ensured success. We need more ingenuity in the business
of education. To a certain extent, you should be experimentalists
upon the human mind; and when you meet with a case which
ordinary methods do not reach, you should call to your assistance the
powers of invention, and try the effect of new measures. I will here
insert two anecdotes illustrative of my meaning.

Mr. Raikes was in the habit of visiting the parents and children
belonging to his schools at their own houses. He called on a poor
woman one day, and found a very refractory girl crying, and sulking.
Her mother complained that correction was of no avail, and that an
inflexible obstinacy marked her conduct. After asking the parent's
permission, he began to talk seriously to the girl, and concluded by
telling her, that as the first step towards amendment, she must kneel
down and ask her mother's pardon. The girl continued sulky. "Well
then (said he), if you have no regard for yourself, I have much regard
for you. You will be ruined, and lost, if you do not begin to be a good
girl; and if you will not humble yourself, I must humble myself, and
make a beginning for you." With that he knelt down on the ground
before the child's mother, and put his hands together with all the
ceremony of a juvenile offender, and supplicated pardon for the
guilty daughter. No sooner did the stubborn girl see him on his knees
on her account, than her pride was overcome at once, and tenderness
followed; she burst into tears, and throwing herself on her knees,
entreated forgiveness; and what is still more pleasing, she gave no
trouble afterwards.
What would many people have done in this instance? uttered a
scolding threat, and left the girl the miserable victim of her own bad
temper. A little ingenuity effected a rescue, for which, perhaps, this
child blesses the name of Raikes to the present hour.

Mr. Lancaster had once under his care a boy of most indolent and
intractable habits, on whom the ordinary methods of punishment
produced no effect. He resolved, as the case seemed almost
desperate, to try an experiment. He placed him as monitor over an
inferior class, and in order more effectually to awaken a feeling of
interest, and excite a habit of application, he opposed this class to
another in a contest, proposing a reward to the monitor, whose class
was victorious. The experiment succeeded to admiration. Ambition
was excited in the boy's mind. During the probationary week he was
every morning at school in good time, urging on his class to the most
vigorous exertions. His truant habits were now broken; and
rewarded by success, he became from that time a pattern of industry.

By teachers less versed in the art of instruction, this boy would have
been given up as incorrigible. You perceive what I mean by ingenuity
and invention, in education. Cultivate it. Indolence may sometimes
be excited, where it cannot be driven. And one vice, where it cannot
be forcibly and immediately eradicated, may be starved and withered
in the shadow of some opposite virtue, which a skillful, and
assiduous gardener may raise against it.

2. Exercise great judgment in the application of rewards and

punishments.

I am not now going to propose any particular kind of rewards, and

punishments, as this little volume is not intended to regulate the
formation of schools, but is addressed to teachers in their individual
capacity, who are already engaged in supporting the order and
arrangements of the school, to which they belong. My remarks will
therefore apply to the subject generally.

The proper application of rewards, and punishments, is the most

difficult part of the business of instruction. To perceive the first
germinations, either of excellence or vice, when the former needs
most to be encouraged, and the latter may be most easily destroyed,
requires a most watchful and discriminating eye. To nourish merit by
reward, and at the same time not to promote the growth of pride and
selfishness, which are so apt to spring up by its side by the forcing
heat of excessive commendation, requires uncommon skill; and no
less judgment is necessary in the case of punishment, lest by pulling
up some noxious weeds with too violent a hand, we tear with it some
better plant.

With respect to REWARD, I should advise that as much as possible

you deduce it from a child's own feelings. External stimulants, I am
aware, are sometimes necessary. Indolence must often be roused by
the proposal of a prize, the value of which ignorance and insensibility
can comprehend. Anything is an advantage where everything else
fails, which moves the stagnant dullness of some minds. But as a
system, I recommend you, as much as possible, to make your
children a reward to themselves. By a little pains you may make them
sensible of the pleasures of good behavior, and the vast advantages of
knowledge. When they have succeeded in a lesson, or an effort at
good conduct, send them to their own bosom for a rewarding smile,
and endeavor to make them sensible of the value of such rewards. By
this means you are carrying on a system of moral education, by
elevating the tribunal, and strengthening the authority of conscience.
This powerful principle is often totally neglected in the business of
instruction. Its dictates are scarcely ever enforced, its authority
seldom exhibited, and its solemn awards entirely superseded—by a
bribing, hireling system of mercenary rewards.

In the education of the heart, conscience is the great auxiliary whose

aid should be perpetually engaged. When a child has behaved so as
to deserve commendation, instead of being judiciously instructed by
his teacher in the pleasure of doing right, I acknowledge it is a much
more easy method of reward simply to confer a ticket, which at some
future day is to be transmuted into money—but it is more than
questionable whether it is the most effective method.

I again repeat, I am not for excluding all external rewards, but I

enjoin, as preeminently important, an endeavor to produce in the
mind of the children, a conviction, that one of the best rewards for
doing right, is the pleasure of doing it.

Much the same strain of remark will apply to PUNISHMENT.

External chastisement is sometimes necessary. Even corporeal
punishment, although it should be excluded as a regular system, may
perhaps, in some cases of extremity, be resorted to, like bitter
medicines, with success. In all cases of chastisement a teacher should
carefully ascertain the degree of crime, and never forget to
discriminate between sins of inadvertence and willful depravity.
Between the thoughtless follies of childhood, and those actions which
are deeply tinctured with moral turpitude, there is a wide difference,
of which you should never lose sight. The teacher who in the
infliction of punishment, removes all the distinctions which exist
between different classes of offence, is in the way of removing, at
least in the minds of his children, the natural distinction between
right and wrong. Endeavor to keep your own temper. Never is a cool
dispassionate manner more necessary than when administering
reproof, or inflicting punishment. Grinding teeth, or flashing eyes, or
quivering lips, or angry words, are very unlikely means to bring a
child to penitence. They may terrify, but will not melt. They may
extort confession but will not produce conviction. Enveloped in the
mist of passion, how can you discriminate the precise degree of
punishment requisite to produce repentance?

Let chastisement always be attended with an obvious regard to the

interest of its subject. No censor is so solemn or so effectual as love;
and no reproofs sink so deeply in the heart, as those which fall from
the lips of affection. Mercy would soften the mind for the
impressions of justice. Where there is a conviction, that you chasten
for the children's benefit, and not to gratify your own feelings—
submission, if not reformation, will generally follow.

Your great concern in every case of misconduct should be to produce

a cordial penitence for the fault. This, so far as the offender is
concerned, is the very end of punishment. Without a perception of
the impropriety of his conduct, and real sorrow for the offence,
whatever punishment a child may receive, no solid basis is laid for
reformation; and therefore very little is effected. By calm statement,
by mild and forcible expostulation, by an appeal to the
understanding and feelings of the children, much, except in cases of
almost incorrigible obduracy, may be effected in leading to genuine
penitence.

Great pains should be taken in every instance of moral delinquency

to convince them that their offence is committed chiefly against God,
and not merely in opposition either to the rules of the school, or the
will of the teacher. It should be represented as a sin to be confessed
to God, and for which there is no pardon, but through the blood of
the Savior.
Great judgment should be exercised in endeavoring to conduct the
whole business of punishment, in such a manner, as shall be least
likely to irritate or exasperate the feelings of the delinquent.
Surgeons, when it is necessary to employ the knife, are very careful
to keep the whole frame as cool as possible, and to choose a time for
operation when the diseased part is least under the power of
inflammation. Select your times, and particularly remember not to
push the rigors of punishment too far, nor continue them too long.
The moment you perceive the mind softened to cordial concern for
the fault, and that stubbornness or impenitence has given way to
docility or contrition, then is the time for punishment immediately to
cease. Beyond this it would be breaking the bruised reed, and
nipping the buds of reformation by the chilling influence of despair.

In short, as in the business of reward, so also in the business of

punishment—make great use of the children's own feelings. Put the
rod into the hand of conscience, and excite a trembling dread of the
strokes which are inflicted by this internal censor.

3. Discharge your teaching duties in a HUMBLE and

AFFECTIONATE manner.

God, who framed the constitution of the human mind, and

constructed all its mechanism, has himself informed us, what are the
springs of action, which, by those who have anything to do in guiding
its operations, should be chiefly touched. "I drew them," says
Jehovah speaking of his conduct towards the Israelites, "with the
cords of love, and the bands of a man." Here then, in this single short
expression, we have compendiously expressed the whole theory of
human government, whether it apply to families, to schools, or
nations, whether it be designed to control the savage or the sage.
This verse, which contains the philosophy of government, should be
studied by everyone who has anything to do with his species in the
way of enlightening their minds, improving their hearts, forming
their characters, or exacting their obedience. The cords of love are
the bands of a man.

In prescribing to you, therefore, the manner in which your duties are

to be discharged, I must enjoin an affectionate and humble temper.
Here I would not be understood as inculcating that weak, and foolish
indulgence, which drops the controls of authority, and by
abandoning the children to their own inclinations, is still more
destructive than the sternest tyranny. The temper that I mean is
perfectly compatible with the most inflexible authority, but it
expresses itself in tender and gentle manner and language. The law
of kindness is in its lips. Its commands and prohibitions are firm, but
mild. It avoids a surly, stern, repulsive tone, and often distributes
looks and smiles upon its objects, which enter to their very hearts,
and win them as captives to itself. It represses all that impatience
which the ignorance, the follies, and the vices of the children without
great watchfulness, have such a tendency to produce; and renders its
possessor patient, loving and humble.

A teacher adopting such a method, takes the nearest road to the

hearts of the youths committed to his care. He will secure their
affection, and thus hold in his hand the key of their disposition. You
mistake, greatly mistake, if you suppose a stern, tyrannical manner is
necessary to maintain your authority. Besides, it becomes you to
recollect, that you are not mere ordinary schoolmasters; you are
teachers of piety; and that religion too which has so much to do with
love. It is the duty of your office to teach the children the knowledge
of that great Being, of whom it is said "God is love,"—to point to the
cross of Jesus, and instruct them in the height, and breadth, and
length, and depth of the love of Christ, which passes knowledge—to
repeat to them severally, the commands of the two tables, and inform
them that the fulfilling of the whole law, is love—to announce to
them the three cardinal virtues of Christianity, faith, hope, love—and
to inform them, the greatest of these is love. In short, to teach them
that godliness, the essence of which in this world, and its perfection
in the world to come, is love! How ill adapted, how inconsistent, how
contradictory to such an office—is a harsh, surly, and tyrannical
method of expression. In teaching the religion of Jesus, we must
exhibit his spirit, as well as inculcate his doctrines; we must learn of
him, who as a teacher, was meek and lowly in heart; for it should
never be forgotten that in his religion, mercy and truth meet
together.

4. Unite your affectionate manner, with a DIGNIFIED manner.

I have already hinted that these two are by no means incompatible

with each other. Their union forms the very perfection of a godly
teacher. Humility is not necessarily connected with degradation; nor
is it requisite to be familiar, in order to be affable. Remember you are
placed on an eminence above your children, and however affection
may lead you to stoop from it with kindness, in order the more
effectually to reach them—still you must never descend from it, to be
upon their level. Between you and them there is a boundary line,
which must be mutually observed; and in order to keep them from
overstepping it on their side, do not approach too near it on your
own.

You must keep up your authority! For if you cannot ensure

obedience, you had better retire. Let your method of addressing
them in common conversation, be dignified, and respectful. Call
them by their proper names, and never employ the abbreviated
terms of vulgar phraseology. Avoid all jesting and low familiarity,
together with the broad loud laugh of jocular merriment. If ever you
would have them respect your authority—never trifle with it yourself.
Let them see that you govern from principle, and not from caprice. In
order to this, never require anything but what is reasonable, and
insist upon the performance of all you require. Always deliberate
before you command, or threaten—and then never relax afterwards.
Your great aim should be that they may both love and respect you!

5. Pursue your exertions with unwearied PERSEVERANCE.

It was little to the honor of Reuben, when his dying father thus
delineated his character, "Unstable as water, you shall not excel."
Instability is a great blemish of character, which occasional
excellencies may conceal for a season—but do not remove the
blemish. Instability is in general contemptible, but in the cause of
teaching Scripture—it is cruel. Like the fig tree, which the Savior
blasted, it excites our hopes, only to disappoint them. There are some
people whose activity for a season, is ample. For a while they are all
bustle and energy—but it is only for a while. I will not say that their
exertions are utterly useless. Their zeal serves the part of thunder
storms in the atmosphere of benevolence. Its roll is impressive, and
its flashes, vivid as lightning—but just as transient. Still, however,
even the storm is useful, though in a very subordinate degree to other
influences—which are more steady, more permanent, and more
fruitful. How often have we had to lament the sudden resignation of
teachers, whose labors required nothing but continuance to render
them incalculably useful; but over whom we exclaimed with a sigh,
"You did run well, what has hindered you?"

It will be proper to enumerate here some of the causes which

frequently operate in producing a lack of the perseverance I am now
enjoining.
A. In some cases a lack of perseverance arises from the self-denying
nature of the employment; and the difficulties and sacrifices of which
were not previously considered. In prospect of any intended labor, it
is the part of wisdom to sit down and count the cost. Where this is
neglected, even the smallest difficulties, as they come upon us when
neither expecting them, nor prepared for them—are likely to have a
very discouraging effect upon the mind. It is vain to deny, and
useless to conceal—that the office of a Sunday School teacher, is
attended with no trifling sacrifices of ease and comfort, which unless
they were previously foreseen, will, in all probability, soon drive
them from the work.

Should these pages meet the eye of anyone who is about shamefully
to retire before the face of a few unexpected toils—I entreat him to
consider the importance of the cause he is disposed to abandon. Let
him meditate upon the worth of souls, and call up the interests of
two worlds, which depend so much upon religious instruction—and
then say, if he ought not to blush at the thought of retreating. Did the
Son of God labor through a life of poverty, agonize in a death of
torture, for immortal souls—and will you cast from you their
interests because a little sacrifice of time and ease is required? Can
you pretend to fellowship with Christ? If selfishness has not chilled
your blood at its fountain, let it rise into your cheek with the blush of
holy shame, and be the signal from this hour for rallying your
retreating benevolence.

B. Some teachers have been induced to give up their employment on

account of a misunderstanding with their associates. It is much to
the reproach of human nature, that there is no object—however
remote from the usual track of discord; however elevated above the
mists of misunderstanding; or however distinct from the interests of
selfishness—but sometimes becomes the unwilling occasion of strife,
and alienation among those who support it. One would imagine, if
experience were not a more credible witness than fancy, that the
regions of benevolence were too rarified an atmosphere for discord
to breathe in. But we know to the contrary. Offences among the
active supporters of a Sunday School are, alas! too common, and
have driven away many a valuable teacher from his office. Let those,
however, who are under the influence of such a temptation, and have
well near resolved to quit their post, because of some injury they
have received—seriously consider what the poor children have done,
that they are to be objects of their revenge; for on them at last the
anger falls!

Let them imagine the great God following them into their retirement,
and proposing to them a question similar to that with which he
surprised his disheartened prophet, "What are you doing here,
Elijah?" Would they venture to reply, or if they did, would it not be
with trembling and confusion, "Lord, I was offended by my fellow
teachers, therefore I determined to give up the employment
altogether." "And what," it may be expected, would Jehovah reply,
"have these poor ignorant, lost children done—that they must suffer
for the wrong you have received? Have I borne with your offences,
and provocations, lo! these many years—and have never forsaken
you? And yet now for one slight injury do you forsake both my cause,
and the interests of those poor babes, that I had entrusted to your
care! Is this your gratitude! Is this your obedience! Is this your
religion!" Bow to the rebuke. Confess your folly. Be reconciled to the
offender—and persevere in your duty.

C. Nearly connected with this is a dislike to some of the

arrangements of the school, which not infrequently induces a teacher
to make their alteration a condition of his continuing in office. This
cannot, and very generally ought not to be done, unless the managers
are convinced that the proposed alterations are for the benefit of the
institution—and even then it ought not to be done with the view of
gratifying an individual—but of improving the school. The
disposition which leads a man to say, "Unless you alter this or that—I
will immediately resign," with whatever plausible excuses it may be
covered—is usually in reality nothing more or better than rank pride.
Such teachers would do well to consider what would be the
consequence, if everyone like themselves had an alteration to
propose, as a condition of their continuance. They can scarcely
pretend to be actuated by feelings of benevolence, since whatever
defects or imperfections they may discover in the school, even with
all these clogging their operations, they can certainly do much more
good by continuing than retiring. If they are really convinced that the
system of instruction would be improved by the adoption of their
views, and are conscious of being actuated by benevolence, and not
merely by self-will, then, in the true spirit of a reformer, they should
continue in their office, with the hope of one day being able to
accomplish the object of desire.

D. In some cases young people have left their office, because there
were none in the school of equal social or economic standing with
themselves in life. What! shall pride, that disgusting and destructive
vice, be allowed admission to the field of mercy's sacred labors?
What! must our very compassion be made dependent on the finery
which the milliner, the jeweler, or the tailor can supply to a fellow
laborer, in the cause of God and souls? That the 'frivolous and the
mirthful' should refuse to resort to a place where 'corresponding
glitter' is not to be found, is not surprising. But to refuse to distribute
the benefits of instruction to the ignorant, and the blessings of
salvation to the perishing–unless we have by our side one as well
dressed as ourselves, seems the very climax of all that is absurd in
human pride!
Is this then a cause which can be ennobled by the 'splendor'—or
degraded by the 'obscurity', of its teachers? Is it not enough that you
are employed as the almoners of God's richest gifts, and engaged for
the benefit of immortal interests? The loftiest seraph that glows, and
burns in the temple above, if commissioned by his God, would accept
with gratitude the office you are disposed to vacate, and in teaching
the knowledge of his exalted Lord, would think himself most
honorably employed, though his pupils were the poorest of children,
and his associates the poorest of teachers. If however you must have
fellow-workers who are your equals—you have only to look up with
the eye of faith, and you would find yourself surrounded with
ministers and missionaries; prophets and apostles; the wise and
good of every age, who have all been pursuing, though in another
way, the same grand object as you are seeking. And even all this,
what is it to the thought of being, although in the humblest sense, a
fellow worker with God, and Christ, in the redemption of a lost and
miserable world?

E. Marriage has very frequently put an untimely close to a teacher's

labors. I have seen very many instances in which the next Sunday
after the marital union has been formed, both parties have
relinquished their office at the school. Does that union, then, which
was designed by its divine author as the basis of society, release us
from a single obligation to promote its welfare? Or do we acquire a
sanctity of character at the marriage altar, which is profaned by
exposing it in a Sunday School? Or do the tender affections which
this connection produces, unfit the parties for an office, one
qualification of which is love?

I acknowledge, that in many, perhaps in most cases, the secession of

females becomes a matter of necessity—but for a young man to give
up his attention to the cause of God, the very first Sunday after he
has received the greatest relative blessing heaven has to bestow, is a
cold expression of gratitude to his benefactor. Until a rising family of
his own prefer more just and sacred claims upon his time than the
children of the poor—it is both absurd and cruel to take it away from
them! How can he better prepare himself to become the preceptor of
the little circle, that may one day surround his own fire-side, than by
acquiring the art of instruction among the sons and daughters of the
stranger?

Such are the more prevailing causes that produce a lack of

perseverance, and such the manner in which they may be removed.

5. I mention CONSTANCY as exceedingly important, in the manner

of discharging the duties of a teacher's office.

This, perhaps, may seem like a repetition of the direction just

expressed. But there is a difference. By perseverance, I intend a
continuance in office. And by constancy, a steady, uniform, and
undiverted discharge of its duties. In most large towns circumstances
are continually occurring which put this virtue to the test. Some
popular minister is to preach; or one of the resident ministers is to
preach a charity sermon, or funeral discourse. On such occasions,
without a firm and ready attachment to the business he has
undertaken, a teacher is in great danger of being induced to quit his
post.

There is one sect in the religious world, which, although not

enumerated in any book of denominations, or any theological
dictionary; which, although it has neither distinct creed, nor separate
temples, still is entitled to a specific notification; this sect I shall
denominate the "CURIOSI"—their identifying trait is a love of
novelty. They belong to any preacher who, for the time, can interest
them by something new; and they attach themselves to every
congregation that has something extraordinary going on. Thus, as
they are carried along the stream of profession like twigs and chips
that are floating near the edge of a river, they are intercepted by
every weed, and whirled in every little eddy.

If you would be a useful, or respectable teacher, you must not belong

to this denomination. It does not rank very high in heaven above, or
earth beneath. They would fain persuade you, that like the bee, they
are sucking honey from every flower. But more like the butterfly,
they rove through all the garden of the Lord, not to sip the most
luxurious—but to flutter with a vain and useless frivolity around the
most gaudy blossom within the sacred enclosure. Be always at your
post, and let it be your glory to find what powerful attraction you can
resist, rather than be absent from your needy charge.

6. PUNCTUALITY in a teacher is vitally connected with the

prosperity of the school.

When one considers the importance of the object in which you are
engaged, and add to this the little time at most, you can command
for seeking it—one might have presumed that it would be quite
unnecessary to caution you against devoting less time to this
ministry. And yet it is painful to be obliged to assert, that there is
scarcely one evil, under which the whole system more severely
suffers, than a lack of punctuality in the teachers. It is an evil which
eats into the very core of the institution. Precisely in the degree to
which it exists, the order of the school must be interrupted, the
solemnity of instruction disturbed, and the whole machine be
impeded. Nor will the mischief stop here. The children perceiving
that it is useless to be there before their teachers, and imitating their
irregularity, will sink into the same habits of inattention and neglect.
Late masters, must make late scholars. 'Tis useless for you to
admonish your class to be early, if by example you instruct them to
be late.

There are several causes which lead to the evil of which I now
complain.

A. A thoughtless disregard to the importance of punctuality in

general, is observable in some people. They are always, and in
everything, late. If they have an engagement to perform, they never
think of preparing for it until the time of commencement is past. On
the Sunday they do not set off to public worship, until the clock
reminds them they ought at that moment to be in their pew. "A few
minutes," they lazily exclaim; "can make no great difference." A few
minutes make no difference!!! If everyone, and in everything, were to
act upon this principle—but for one day, the world would be chaos.
This procrastinating temper is a bane, under the influence of which
the interests of society are suffering in a thousand ways; and that
man would deserve the thanks of his species, who could furnish the
most effectual antidote against it. There is a time for everything; and
let everything be done in its time. In common language we speak of
fetching up lost time—but in strict propriety, this is impossible. A
moment lost, can never be recovered!

B. Late rising on the Sunday morning is a great obstacle in the way of

punctuality. Perhaps I shall be thought uncharitable in expressing
my apprehensions, that by many professing Christians, the season of
slumber is protracted to an unusual length on the morning of the
Sunday; and that day which was mercifully intended as a season of
rest, is sinfully converted into a period of indolence. Considering how
closely the world and its concerns follow us on other days, one might
imagine, that we would feel disposed to make the Sunday as long as
possible. It is the last day we ought to shorten. And were our souls in
a state of high spiritual prosperity, we should, like the lark, be
soaring towards heaven upon the wings of the morning, while the
greater part of the world below us was still wrapped in silence and in
sleep; and, like the nightingale, continue to pour forth our songs in
the night, when the multitude around us, to relieve the tedium of the
sacred day, had prematurely sunk to their rest.

But consider that your sloth defrauds not only your own soul—but
also the souls of your children at the school! The idea of such
forbidden slumber should present you with—is a shepherd depriving
his lambs of their food. Rising late, you are often driven to the school
without prayer, and without preparation, and even then are often
long late yourself. Every beam of the morning, as it gently touches
the lids of your eyes, seems to address you in the language of Christ
to his slumbering disciples, "Why sleep you? Rise and pray." Or if
this be too gentle a voice to rouse you from your slumbers, let
harsher tones disturb you, "What do you mean, O sleeper? Arise, call
upon your God."

C. Another cause of lack of punctuality, is too much time employed at

the dinner table. Are there Christians who devote the Sunday to more
than ordinary gratification of the palate, and who, in order to provide
for their pleasure, employ their servants or themselves during the
most precious portion of the day, in preparing for the table? Alas! to
the shame of many, who make large professions, this question must
be answered in the affirmative! In some cases it is beyond a teacher's
control to alter the arrangements of a family—but it is within
everyone's ability to content himself with anything the house affords,
rather than be late at school, by waiting for the roast that is smoking
at the oven. Do I ask a costly sacrifice for the interests of the
children? What! a WARM dinner on Sundays too much to give up for
those souls, for which the Savior gave his blood? This too much to
relinquish, in order that you may hasten with the bread of life to
those who are perishing for lack of it? Can you begrudge this
gratification when it is to enlarge your opportunity of endeavoring to
save those souls, which if finally lost, shall never have the temporary
mitigation of their torments—which even a drop of water affords to a
burning tongue!

Let me then enjoin, with peculiar earnestness, a strict regard to

punctuality. That you may feel more strongly the obligations to this, I
again entreat you to recollect how short a space of time, even at
most, the children can enjoy your instructions, A few hours on the
Sunday, with respect to most of them, are all the time during which
through the whole week they hear or see anything like piety. Make
not the little time, less.

7. Crown all your labors with fervent, and habitual PRAYER.

It is important for you, in all your exertions, to bear in mind the total
and universal depravity of the human race. By total depravity, I do
not mean that people are as bad as they can be, for in general they lie
under strong restraints--and most do not sin with reckless
abandonment. I do not mean that they are all equally wicked, for
some are less sinful than others. I do not mean that they are destitute
of everything useful, and lovely in society; their social affections are
often strong and praiseworthy. I do not mean that their actions are
always

wrong; the contrary is manifestly true. What I mean by total

depravity, is an entire destitution in the human heart by nature--of
all spiritual affection, and holy propensities. In this view every child
is totally depraved.
To change this state of the mind, and produce a holy bias; to create a
new disposition, to turn all the affections into a new channel, and
cause them to flow towards God and heaven, is the work of the
omnipotent and eternal Spirit, who in the executions of his purposes,
however, generally employs the instrumentality of man. Now this
view of the case must be ever before your mind; it must mingle with
all your plans, and direct all your exertions. You must accurately
understand the nature of the materials on which you have to work,
and be intimately acquainted with the source from whence success is
to be expected. You must sow the seed in its season with the
diligence of the farmer, and then exercise, like him, an unlimited
dependence upon the influences of the heavens; for it is God that
gives increase to the labors of both.

A spirit of earnest prayer should be the living soul of all your

conduct. While your eye is fixed upon the children, your heart should
be lifted up to God. You should sit down as between them and the
fountain of life, and while opening by instruction a channel to their
hearts, seek to draw the living stream by prayer from heaven. Your
closet should also be the scene of your concern for their welfare. In
those seasons of hallowed seclusion, when your soul makes her
nearest and happiest approaches to the throne of divine grace,
concentrate on their immortal interests. God loves the prayers of his
people, and especially delights in the prayers of pious benevolence.
Importune him, therefore; to bless your efforts. Confess to him that
the work of conversion is all his own. Hang the interests of the school
upon his arm, and lay them down in the light of his countenance.

Especially on the morning of the Sunday, in the prospect of your

exertions. Next to your own growth in grace, seek the principal
subject of your prayers, in the welfare of the children. Pray for grace
to be found faithful; and to be made sufficient for these things.
Entreat of God to rouse you from lukewarmness, and to enable you
to feel the weight of others' souls, upon your own. There qualify
yourself, if I may so speak, for your office. 'Tis astonishing what an
effect is produced, even on our own feelings, by fervent prayer. It
elevates in our minds, and endears to our heart—every object which
it embraces. It is not the pleading of an hireling advocate, who, after
the most eloquent appeals, receives his fee, and forgets his client. But
the intercession of genuine love, which is inflamed towards its object,
by its own impassioned entreaties on its behalf.

Prayer will cherish all the tenderest sensibilities of the heart, and
keep down the growth and influence of our natural selfishness. Did
you come to the school every Sunday morning, like Moses from the
mount, direct from the presence and the converse of God; bringing
all the solemn tenderness with which you had supplicated for the
children at the mercy-seat—what a godly character would be
imparted to your deportment! The solemn air of eternity, irradiated
with the beams of heavenly glory, would be visible upon your
countenance; while the meekness of Jesus, and the mercy of his
gospel, breathed forth in all your language, would admonish the
children, that it was not a time for them to trifle, when their teacher
had come to them with a "message from God!"

Provided they possess other qualifications in an equal degree—those

who are most prayerful will be most successful. On the other hand, it
is matter of little surprise, that no spiritual benefit or success attends
the efforts of those by whom the duty of prayer is neglected. They
labor, as might be expected, in a field on which the dew of heaven
seldom distills—and which brings forth little else than thorns, and
briers. Whenever we shall be favored to perceive a spirit of prayer
resting upon the great mass of our teachers, and insinuating itself
into all their exertions, we shall not wait long before we hear of a
degree of success among the children, which will delight and
astonish us; for it is said of Jehovah, that "He hears prayer."

THE DUTIES OF TEACHERS TO EACH

OTHER

In every case of combined exertion, there are mutual obligations

devolving upon the co-workers; on the due discharge of which the
success of their efforts materially depends. This is obviously true of
the case in hand. Besides what is due to the children from the
teachers, there is much to be observed by the teachers towards each
other.

1. They should cultivate a spirit of reciprocal affection.

In addition to the ordinary reasons for brotherly love, which exist in

every case, your circumstances supply another of considerable
weight. Unity of exertion certainly calls for unity of affection; for the
former without the latter can exist—but in a very feeble degree, and
be crowned only with very partial success. Love should be the
'superintendent' of every school. Affectionately devoted to the object
of the institution, you should love everyone who contributes in the
least measure to its success. Worldly, and even wicked associations,
lead to strong affection between the united parties—the soldier
contracts a strong affection for his comrade who is fighting by his
side; the servant who is faithfully devoted to his master's interest,
feels a regard for his fellow-servant, in whom he discovers the same
fidelity; the traveler forms a growing friendship for the person whom
he has incidentally met with on the road, and with whom he shares
the toils and the dangers of the way; even the fraternity of robbers,
generates sometimes a sort of affection for each other.

Certainly then, a co-operation so benevolent in its object, and so holy

in its acknowledged bond of union, ought to produce a high degree of
Christian love. Laboring side by side in the cause of immortal souls;
that cause in which the Savior spent his life, and shed his blood; that
cause, which from beginning to end is emphatically the cause of love,
you should cultivate towards each other no common measure of
hallowed friendship. It is not enough that you avoid a state of open
enmity; it is not enough that you maintain a kind of complaisant
indifference, or a cold and civil distance; all this is very far below that
cordial and glowing affection which should be cherished among the
fellow-workers in such a cause. This should be the prompt and
generous language of one heart to another, "I love you, for your love
to these children, and the interests of piety." The teachers of every
school should form a holy family; a beautiful fraternity associated by
the bond of affection, for the purpose of benevolence, within whose
sacred, and peaceful circle, envy, jealousy and strife, should never be
allowed a place—but which should incessantly exhibit the "good and
pleasant sight of brethren dwelling together in unity."

2. There should be cordial, and general cooperation in everything

which concerns the institution.

The prosperity of the school at large, is what every individual teacher

should keep in view, and which he should seek by the improvement
of his own class. It is of vast importance that you should steadily and
permanently remember, that although you have separate and
individual duties, yet you have no private, and separate interests. The
school forms a little community, of which you are a member, and
against which it is a sort of high treason to violate its integrity, by
setting up the interests of distinct parties. You must all act together.
The worst of evils have arisen from the teachers being divided, as is
sometimes the case, into little separate groups. These are frequently,
perhaps generally, produced by the operation of private friendship.
For example, here are two or three of the number who, from
congeniality of mind, or long intimacy, are on habits of the most
friendly fellowship. Forgetting the consequences which are likely to
ensue, they take no pains to conceal, or suspend their fellowship
during the time they are at the school. They are often seen talking to
each other, and exchanging the warmest expressions of endeared
friendship, while the rest are passed by with cold civilities, or
indifference. All this while, a spirit of division is imperceptibly
generated. Others perceiving that they are not to be admitted to the
select circle, form parties of their own. During the usual and
uninterrupted routine of ordinary business, no effect peculiarly
injurious perhaps arises—but the very first time that an offence
occurs, or a diversity of opinion takes place, the mischief which has
been secretly collecting, explodes. Factions are instantly formed with
the most exact precision, according to the parties which had been
previously composed. Opposition grows strong. The work of division
and alienation goes forward. The seeds of lasting discord are sown,
and it is very long before the school recovers the injury.

Take care, therefore, of splitting the teachers into parties. Particular

friendships you are not forbidden to form—but at the same time
remember that the school is not the place to display them. Even
should you walk in company to the scene of your labors, remember
to separate as friends, the moment you touch the threshold of the
school room, and suspending for a season the visible partialities of
favorites, mingle with the whole body, and feeling the pressure of a
general bond, act upon the principle that you are all one.
Especially take care of systematically thinking and acting with a
certain party. Endeavor, in all cases of diversity of opinion, to act
independently and conscientiously. Be very watchful that affection
does not impose upon your judgment, and that private attachments
do not influence your public conduct—for if it is seen that in your
official duties, you act independently of personal regard, such
friendships, however well known, will make no party, and therefore
do no harm.

3. Never make the real, or supposed faults of one teacher, the matter
of conversation among others.

This rule equally extends to official delinquencies, and personal

offences. There is a most powerful propensity in human nature, to
what has been denominated with considerable propriety, backbiting
—or making the faults of an absent person the subject of
conversation. This is a vice so evil, so mischievous, so cowardly; so
characteristic of littleness, as well as of malignity—that every holy
man should hate it, and every wise man be ashamed of it. O what
wisdom, what mercy, what beauty is there in our Lord's direction, "If
your brother shall trespass against you, go and tell him his fault,
between you and him alone; if he shall hear you, you have gained
your brother. But if he will not hear you, then take with you one or
two more; that in the mouth of two or three witnesses every word
may be established." If this rule were universally obeyed, most of the
feuds and quarrels which destroy the peace, and desolate the
temporal interests of mankind, would be cut off.

"Tell him his fault between you and him alone," and of course this
must mean, tell him first—let not another know it, until you have
tried the effect of this private and personal representation. How
often has the harmony of our schools been interrupted by a violation
of this simple and beautiful rule. A teacher's faults have been made
the matter of free conversation, until the subject swelled by
falsehood, and envenomed by malignity, has come to his ears in the
most exasperating form. It is quite melancholy to reflect, from what
slight causes, the most serious animosities have arisen, even among
those who were professedly teaching a religion of forgiveness; and
the grief is increased by considering what a small measure of
forbearance would at one time have proved sufficient for preventing
the whole series of subsequent mischief.

It is a difficult point to settle, who is most to blame, and most

answerable for the consequences—the person who first commits
backbiting, or he who by revenging, or publishing it, causes it to
extend its mischievous effects. If my neighbor be wanton, or wicked
enough to throw a kindled firebrand into my dwelling, and I, instead
of immediately quenching it, throw it back into his premises, or cast
it into the air, for the wind to carry it where it will, am I less
answerable for the conflagration than he? Thus when you are
offended, if instead of going to him alone, and endeavoring to come
to an amicable adjustment of the affair, you throw back the firebrand
in revenge, or cast it into the air, by publicly talking of the matter,
and a fire of contention ensues, you are perhaps the guiltier
individual of the two.

Let me here enjoin upon all concerned in the active duties of a

Sunday School, the diligent cultivation of that love, which the apostle
has so exquisitely described, "Love is patient"—when injured does
not seek revenge. "Love is kind"—is desirous of making everyone
happy. "Love envies not"—feels no pain at the sight of another's
excellencies or possession; nor dislikes him on that account. "Love is
not boastful"—does not brag of what it has done or can do. "Love is
not puffed up"—has no proud conceit of its own attainments or
achievements. "Love does not behave improperly"—quietly
discharges the duties of its own rank, station, age, or gender, without
crudely stepping out of its own appropriate circle. "Love seeks not
her own"—abhors selfishness. "Love is not easily provoked"—is as
backward to take offence, as it is to revenge it. "Love thinks no evil"—
is willing to impute a good motive, until a bad one is proved. "Love
rejoices not in iniquity—but rejoices in the truth"—mourns the
failings; and delights in the excellencies of its opponent. "Love bears,
or covers all things"—covers with a mantle of love, those faults which
it is not necessary to disclose. "Love believes all things"—to the
advantage of another. "Love hopes all things"—where there is
scarcely evidence sufficient to induce belief. "Love endures all
things"—is willing to make any sacrifice, and endure any privation
consistent with truth, in order to promote peace.

What schools we would have under the control of such a spirit? What
hinders us from elevating this Godlike, heavenly, and everlasting
virtue, as the ruling temper of our hearts, and the all-pervading spirit
of the institution?

4. Always address each other with kindness and respect.

Avoid everything domineering, uncivil, and disrespectful, both in

manner and in tone. It is greatly to be regretted that suavity of
speech, and politeness of manners, appear with some people, to rank
among heterodox virtues. But I have yet to learn in what page of
revelation courtesy is forbidden. Gold is not the less weighty for
being burnished, nor the diamond less valuable for being polished—
no, nor is real religion the less pure for being decorated with the
ornament of real courtesy. The holiness of a saint, receives no
contamination or alloy from the manners of a gentleman.
I am not inculcating the stiff, cold etiquette of a heartless and
cringing politeness—but that affectionate, and respectful attention to
each other's feelings, which is compounded of benevolence and good
manners. "Let the law of kindness be in your lips, and your speech be
always with grace," remembering you are not many masters—but
brethren.

It is of considerable moment that as the children are required to

respect their instructors, they should be invariably taught to do this,
by the example of the teachers, mutually respecting each other. And
as it is one object of Sunday School instruction, though not the
ultimate one, to check what is crude, and polish what is rough in the
manners of the children, it is of no small consequence, that in the
conduct of their teachers, they should constantly have before their
eyes, very correct models of kindness and respect

5. Never interfere with the duties of each other.

An interfering, meddling disposition, is sure to do mischief, and

incur contempt. Your respective duties are sufficiently distinct to be
clearly ascertained, and to render encroachment inexcusable on the
ground of ignorance. Upon observing any irregularity, or neglect in
the class of another, instead of attempting to rectify it yourself,
mention it kindly to the teacher to whom it appertains; especially
remembering that the hint be given as privately and delicately as
possible, as no one should be convicted or reproved before his own
pupils.

6. Be very careful to discharge the general duties of your office in a

manner suitable to your age, gender, and condition in life.

Older and younger teachers are under reciprocal obligations to each

other. They whose years and experience entitle them to considerable
deference from their younger fellow-laborers, should be exceedingly
anxious to employ their seniority to great advantage. Let them
remember the influence of their example, and therefore, not merely
abstain from everything which it would be injurious for others to
imitate—but abound in every virtue which may be copied with
advantage. Extraordinary seriousness and zeal should characterize
all their deportment. Connected with this should be a friendly
disposition to associate with their younger brethren. There should be
no distant, reserved and repulsive behavior—but a willingness to
instruct, encourage and guide them—unattended by a wish to dictate
and govern. How eminently serviceable might such people render
themselves by repressing intemperate zeal, by giving to youthful
ardor a right direction, and smoothing the ruggedness with which
the first stage in the career of usefulness, is sometimes marked.
Instead, therefore, of viewing the junior teachers as too young to be
their associates, and leaving them to companions, as inexperienced
as themselves—let the senior laborers in this good cause, consider
them as objects commended to their especial protection, whom by
their fostering care, they are to train up to excellence in the duties of
their office.

On the other hand, let the younger teachers be thoroughly aware of

the duties of their age. Let them seek the company of their seniors;
treat them with respect, solicit their advice, and hearken to their
opinions with deference. Where youth is modestly inquisitive, and
old age unostentatiously communicative, much benefit must result
from their being brought into association. Young people, however,
are exceedingly apt to be forward, flippant, positive and self-
confident. Nothing can be more unbecoming and offensive, than to
see a person, young perhaps in years, still younger in experience,
forgetful of the deference due to those who are wiser and older than
himself, urging his own plans and views with a pertinacity which is
scarcely tolerable in grey hairs, and contending for their adoption in
opposition to the riper wisdom of his seniors—as if he had received
them by revelation from heaven. Modesty is a disposition so
necessary in the character of youth, that no talents can be a
substitute for it, nor can any attainments, however splendid, be
admitted as a substitute for the lack of it. Let those who have but
recently entered upon their office, then, always listen with great
humility to those who have been employed for years, and eagerly
avail themselves of the testimony of experience. The worst of evils
have arisen from that haughty temper, which amidst the pride of
independence, forgets, that vast 'superiority of qualification' is often
connected with 'perfect equality of rank'—and that in such cases
deference is no degradation.

Between the teachers of opposite genders, there are duties to be

discharged which involve their own respectability, and the character
of the institution. Some people, who understand no logic but that of
the pocket, and who find it more cheap to find out the faults of an
institution, than the means of its support, have sometimes made this
objection against the plan of gratuitous teaching in our Sunday
Schools, "that it gives occasion for too frequent meetings of young
people, and often leads to hasty and injudicious connections in life."
Leaving this unsubstantial objection to pass like a shadow over a
rock, I certainly see the necessity and importance of the most
punctilious regard to all the rules of modesty, and reserve, between
male and female teachers. A school room is not the place, nor is the
Sunday a time for gossip between young men and women. Nothing
can be more improper than to see young men intruding into
apartments appropriated to the instruction of girls, and there
nodding, laughing, or talking to some female acquaintance. Before
an assembly of poor children, one of whose greatest dangers arises
from a lack of proper and delicate reserve between the opposite
sexes, and who are ready to copy with avidity any lack of decorum in
their teachers, the very smallest deviation from the strict rules of
propriety is a crime not only against their manners—but against their
morals. Under such circumstances the most scrupulous
circumspection is indispensably requisite.

And here, perhaps, it may be neither unseasonable, nor unnecessary,

to caution young people against being led into ill-advised
connections, by the fellowship they necessarily must have with each
other, after every rule of decorum has been observed. There exists no
reason why a connection commenced at a Sunday School should
necessarily be a bad one; nor do the other hand, why it should
necessarily be a good one. People may be very excellent teachers, and
yet be very ill adapted for husbands or wives. The qualifications
required for these respective relationships, are of an order, in some
respects so essentially different, that there is no arguing from the one
to the other.

Sometimes we shall find in the same school, people of very different

standing in life; and such a disparity, without an attention to the
duties which it entails, is likely to be attended with some degree of
discord. The richer, and better educated members of the little
community, should be careful to exclude from their conduct
everything that looks like the pride of station, and at the same time
to avoid that insulting condescension, which makes its object feel at
what a distance it is considered. It is a nice and delicate point to
distinguish between affability and familiarity; and to act with those
who are below us in life, as fellow laborers in the school, without
making them our companions outside of it.

Those whom providence has destined to fill the humbler stations of

society, and who are engaged in the work of teaching with others of
more elevated circumstances, will also do well to guard against an
obtrusive, and forward disposition; and without being servile should
always be respectful. All they ought to expect from their superiors, is
a kind cooperation in the duties of the school, without the familiarity
of friends and companions in general.

7. PRAYER is a duty which the teachers of a Sunday School mutually

owe to each other.

If we are commanded to make supplication for all men, even for

those with whom we have no other connection than what is
established by the common bond of humanity, surely those ought not
to be excluded from our petitions, with whom we are united in the
communion of Christian benevolence.

Mutual prayer, as we have already considered in the case of the

children, would be productive, in proportion to its fervor, of mutual
endearment. If on a Sunday morning, you devoted a portion of the
time spent in the closet, to entreat the blessing of God upon the
people and labors of your fellow teachers, how sweetly would such an
engagement prepare you to mingle with them in the duties of the
day! Softened to benevolence by the exercises of piety, and with the
fire of love still burning, which prayer had kindled in your heart upon
the altar of devotion, with what a holy temper would you hasten to
the scene of your exertions, and with what a glowing affection, look
around upon the object of your fervent supplications! What an
influence might it be expected such a system of mutual prayer—
sincerely, importunately, and perseveringly presented, would draw
down from heaven upon the institution at large!! Showers of
blessings would come down in their season, in which children and
teachers would reciprocally rejoice. God hears and answers prayer;
and of all the prayers which enter heaven, and rise before the throne,
we can readily conceive that none more speedily catch his ear, and
move his hand, than those which one Christian pours over the
religious zeal of another; since such prayers, like the aromatic
incense which rose like a cloud before the mercy-seat, are
compounded of many precious ingredients, bruised and burnt
together, and all of divine appointment.

TEMPTATIONS TO WHICH SUNDAY

SCHOOL

TEACHERS ARE PECULIARLY EXPOSED

As this life is a state of probation, it might be reasonably expected
that every situation will have its trials. Temptations vary with our
circumstances—but there is no scene from which they are entirely
excluded. The heavenly, and the earthly paradise, alternately
witnessed their attack, their victory, and their havoc. Angelic, as well
as human perfection, yielded to their shock, and left a warning to
every subsequent age, "not to be high minded—but to fear." In a
world which God for a while has permitted to sink under the
dominion of the prince of the power of the air, it is not to be
wondered at that there is no situation, however obscured by solitude,
or elevated by piety, from which all temptations can be effectually
shut out. The fact is, that as our chief danger arises from our own evil
heart, until we can be separated from our guilty selves we shall look
in vain for a spot sequestered from the attack of our spiritual
enemies. Well did our merciful Redeemer know our weakness and
our dangers, when he put into our lips that appropriate petition,
"lead us not into temptation."

What duty is more frequently enjoined in the New Testament, than

WATCHFULNESS, and what is more necessary? How incumbent
this is, on those who are engaged in the active duties of a Sunday
School, will be very apparent, by even a partial enumeration of their
temptations.

1. They are in great danger of receiving injury to their own personal

religion.

The Sunday, if the expression should not be thought too low, is the
'market day of the soul'—when she lays in the provisions which are to
refresh her, and the materials which are to employ her, during the
ensuing week. If this day be misimproved, six days suffer for the
neglect of one. It is very true, that real godliness will not confine
itself to peculiar times and places. But still there are both peculiar
times and places which are eminently adapted to promote its life and
power. The Sunday and the sanctuary sustain the highest rank
among the instituted means of religious benefit.

It is then that the Christian, engaged in warfare with this world, like
a conflicting vessel at sea, lies aside for a season, to repair the
damages he has received, and prepare again for action, by renewing
the faith which gives him the victory. It is then that piety, wearied
and weakened by the toils of her warfare, sits down to rest beneath
the shadow of Christ's ordinances, and refreshing herself with the
river of life, which flows at her feet, rises with renovated strength to
pursue her journey to the city of habitation. Hence all those who are
concerned for the prosperity of their spiritual interests, and are wise
in the selection of means to promote them, set a high value upon the
Sunday, as a chief means of grace of true religion.
Now without great care a Sunday School teacher is in imminent
danger of losing much of the benefit of the Christian Sunday. As your
attendance is required pretty early at the school, you are often
exposed to the temptation of neglecting secret prayer on the Sunday
morning. Without a most resolute and self-denying habit of early
rising, you will be very frequently hurried away to the school before
you have had time, except in a very hasty manner, to supplicate a
blessing from God upon the services of the day. A Sunday that
commences without prayer, is likely to be spent without pleasure,
and closed without profit. It is in the closet that the soul is prepared
for the blessings of the sanctuary. It is there the understanding is
cleared for instruction, and the heart softened for impression. It is
there that God excites the spiritual hunger and thirst, which he
afterwards intends to satisfy with the provision of his holy temple.
Everyone that wishes to find the Sunday a delight, should introduce
it by a season of earnest, and secret prayer, which you, without most
determined habits of early rising, are in consequence of your
engagements, to neglect.

Without great vigilance you are in danger of losing the spirituality of

the Sunday altogether, and making it rather a day of business—
rather than of devotion. In many large schools much of the
Laucasterian system of education is introduced into the method of
instruction; and which certainly facilitates the communication of
theoretical knowledge. But at the same time it must be confessed,
that from its very nature, it has rather a tendency, without pre-
eminent care on the part of the teacher; to increase the 'secularizing
influence' of the whole concern of instruction. The audible repetition
of orders, the evolutions of the classes, the exhibition of signals, and
indeed the whole mechanism of the plan—has a great tendency to
destroy that tranquility and spirituality of mind which are essential
to the exercises of devotion.
In addition to this, the little vexations and irritations which the
conduct of the scholars so frequently produces, are very apt to
disturb and upset the most amiable temper—and thus disqualify the
soul for that enjoyment, which requires the most serene and
unruffled atmosphere. The body too, often grows weary, and the
animal spirits flag; under such circumstances you sometimes enter
upon the means of grace—but ill prepared to improve them. The
service passes on, while, alas! neither the solemnity of prayer, nor
the animating notes of holy praise; neither the fervor of the preacher,
nor the seriousness of the surrounding congregation—seems to
interest or impress you. And then mourning the coldness and
barrenness of your heart, you retire to mark upon the gloomy
chronicle of misimprovement another Sunday lost.

Many a heart will subscribe to the truth of this representation by a

deep and heavy sigh, and many a tongue be ready to exclaim, "my
wasting piety yields sad proof, that without watchfulness, genuine
godliness may receive lamentable injury even in a Sunday School!
But tell me how I may GUARD against the danger, its existence I
know without being told?"

Begin the day as I have already directed, with earnest prayer, that
you may carry a devotional spirit to your labors. Seriously remember
your danger, and diligently watch against it. Keep in view the
ultimate object of your exertions, and elevate your pursuits from the
mere communication of knowledge, to the salvation of the immortal
soul—as long as you can fix your mind on the spiritual interests of
the children, and labor affectionately for them, you guard against the
secularizing influence of the ordinary school business, and are
cherishing a spirit every way friendly to your own piety. Make it the
subject of earnest supplication, that God would preserve you from
the danger to which you are exposed. Endeavor to acquire settled
habits of stillness and order, that all unnecessary bustle may be
avoided, and everything conducted with calmness and serenity.
Employ the time you have to spare during the intervals of public
worship, in devotional retirement. By these means, assiduously
applied, the spirit of true piety may be preserved, and personal
religion remain uninjured amidst the routine of Sunday School
instruction.

There is another source from whence some degree of danger may be

apprehended, and that is a habit of speaking on religious subjects,
with too much indifference and levity. This applies to everyone who
is called to teach religion officially. The solemn topics of heavenly
truth, can never be treated lightly, with impunity. A mind
accustomed to dwell upon them in a mere official and unfeeling
manner, must gradually lose its susceptibility to their living
influence; and become hardened against their power to sanctify and
comfort. That which at one time we treat as the ordinary routine of
business, it will be difficult at another to enjoy as the element of
devotion. Let us then take care never to handle the truths of
revelation with a light and careless touch; for by such means they are
likely to become "the savor of death unto death." "The solemn awe,
which warns us how we touch a holy thing," should ever imbue our
minds while the topics of eternity are trembling on our tongues.
Never forget, that 'everlasting interests' hang upon the truths which
you teach to the children, and that their manner of learning them, in
a considerable measure, will be an imitation of your manner of
teaching them.

There is the greater need of watching against the danger to which

your own personal piety is exposed from your office as a teacher—as
of all causes of spiritual declension—this is the most likely to be
excused by a deceived conscience. Is the following mode of reasoning
new to you? "It is true I have not been of late so attentive to personal
religion as I formerly was, and it must be confessed that divine truths
affect me less powerfully than they once did. But as the neglect was
produced by an attention to the interests of others, it is quite
pardonable, for if I have not kept my own vineyard I have kept the
vineyards of others; and therefore I consider that my falling off a
little should be considered rather in the light of a sacrifice, than a
sin."

It behooves us however, to recollect that our first care is with our

own soul, and that as no duties can be incompatible with each other,
nothing is required of us that necessarily interferes with personal
piety. Nothing can possibly be a substitute for this; nothing excuse
the decline of it. The most diffusive benevolence, nor the most ardent
zeal—will not be accepted by God as an apology for sinking into the
crime of lukewarmness. There is however no necessary connection
between a decay of piety, and the duties of a Sunday School—the
danger arises only in those cases where there is a lack of caution;
properly conducted, your employment would be found rather an
auxiliary than a foe to the most spiritual mind.

2. Another temptation to which Sunday School teachers are exposed,

is a spirit of PRIDE.

To be a teacher of others; to be invested with authority; to be

regarded as an oracle; to be listened to with deference; to say to one
'come,' and he comes, to another 'go,' and he goes, even among
children—is a situation which has its temptations, and which some
weak minds have found quite too powerful for the growth of
humility. You mistake, if you suppose the distinction and elevation of
your office, are too inconsiderable to induce pride. Pride is a vice that
does not dwell exclusively in king's houses, wear only elegant
clothing, and feed sumptuously every day upon lofty titles, fame or
affluence. Pride is generated in the depravity of our nature, it
accommodates itself to our circumstances, and adapts itself to our
taste—it is found as often in the poor cottage, as in the mansion; and
never having tasted the richer provisions of loftier elevations—feeds
with avidity upon the lowest distinctions, which raise one man above
another. Consciousness of superiority, whatever be the object of
comparison, is the element of this most hateful disposition of pride;
and this may be supplied even from the office of a Sunday School
teacher.

The danger is greatly increased, where the talents of a young person

have procured for him a prominent station, and assigned to him the
discharge of extraordinary duties. It would indeed be an unhappy
abuse of the system, if it should be perverted into a means of
destroying that modest, and retiring disposition, which is the most
attractive ornament of the young, and rendering them bold, forward
and conceited; a danger, which it requires no penetration to discern,
must ever attend a season like that in which we live, of extraordinary
activity.

The mode of doing good in the present age, with all its incalculable
advantages to the interests of mankind at large, needs the greatest
watchfulness, both on the part of its principal agents, and its
subordinate instruments, lest it generate the prideful disposition,
against which this particular warning is directed. Vast multitudes are
now brought from silence and obscurity, to sustain in public a share
of that distinguished honor, which the cause of Christ imparts to the
lowest of its advocates. Let them therefore be watchful of their own
spirit, for the loss of humility is a destruction in the Christian
character, not to be repaired by the most splendid talents, or the
most active zeal. While at the same time it would be an evil which
our congregations would have cause to deplore with tears of blood, if
their younger members should ever be inflated by any cause with the
spirit of pride.

3. Nearly allied to this is the danger of acquiring a dogmatic,

authoritative and overbearing manner.

The previous particular temptation referred to spirit; this more

directly relates to manner—for it is quite conceivable that through
the force of habit a person may acquire dogmatic manner, without
being considerably infected by a prideful spirit. Accustomed to speak
with authority to the children, and to expect prompt obedience to
your commands, you are in danger, without great watchfulness, of
carrying the tone and air of office into your general deportment. A
habit of dogmatic and overbearing manner—may be formed by
imperceptible degrees, displayed without consciousness, and not
broken without difficulty. Wherever it exists it never fails to create
disgust—but is never so disgusting as in young people.

THE DISCOURAGEMENTS OF

SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHERS

Every cause which is worth supporting, will have to encounter
difficulties—and these are generally proportionate to the value of the
object to be accomplished. The career of benevolence is not a path of
flowers, leading down a gentle slope; where the philanthropist treads
softly and swiftly without a difficulty to check his progress--or a
discouragement to chill his ardor. 'Mercy' has far more to obstruct
her course than even 'justice', since the latter is attended by the
strong arm of power, to resent the injuries which are offered to her
dignity, and remove the obstacles which oppose her progress.
Whereas MERCY, accompanied only by that wisdom which is
peaceable, must attempt to do by gentleness, what she cannot effect
by force; toil through difficulties which she cannot remove; and
under the most aggravated injuries, console herself with the thought
that she did not deserve them; and amidst present discouragement,
cheer herself with the hope of future success; and after waiting long
and patiently for the fruit of the labors, sometimes find her only
reward--in the purity of her intentions and the consciousness of
having done all she could.

The faithful teacher will meet with many discouragements, which I

will now enumerate, and endeavor to alleviate.

1. His discouragement will arise frequently from the CHILDREN.

—From their DULLNESS. Instead of finding them quick in their

conceptions, and steady in their application--you will often find them
volatile in their habits, and slow of apprehension. After toiling
several weeks in teaching them the alphabet, you will in some cases
have the discouragement to find that little progress has been made--
and months elapse before much visible improvement takes place. In
looking round upon your class, you will sometimes exclaim with the
sigh of despondency, "So long have I been laboring to instruct that
boy, and yet to the present hour he can scarcely add syllable to
syllable. It is like ploughing upon a rock, and sowing precious seed
upon sand. I feel almost inclined to abandon the work altogether."
Never yield to such feelings. Innumerable instances have occurred,
in which the dullest children in the school have ultimately become
the teacher's richest reward. Plants of great excellence are often of
slow growth, and pay with ample interests the gardener's heavy toil,
and delayed expectations. And even should no such result crown
your ends, still bear with their dullness, recollecting that this very
circumstance renders them more needful of your benevolent regard.

—Their INGRATITUDE is oftentimes exceedingly discouraging.

Aware of the costly sacrifices you make, and the incessant labor you
endure for their benefit, you expect in them a just sense of their
advantages and a grateful their obligations. Instead of this, you see
them utterly destitute of both—trifling over their privileges as if they
were worth nothing to them--and as thankless towards you, as if it
cost nothing to impart them! Perceiving that your kindness is wasted
upon objects which it fails to impress--you feel sometimes disposed
to withdraw your exertions, which are so little valued and improved.

But consider that this very state of the children's minds, instead of
inducing you to relax your exertions, should stimulate you to greater
activity, since it is a part of that depravity of heart and that deformity
of character, for the removal of which they are entrusted to your care.
To abandon them on this account, would be like the physician's
giving up his patient because he is diseased. The more insensible and
ungrateful you find them, the more should you labor for their
improvement, since these vices, if not reformed in childhood, are
likely to attain a dreadful maturity in future life.

—Their MISIMPROVEMENT operates very unfavorably upon the

mind of their instructors. Who has not sometimes experienced a
chilling depression, when he has looked round upon the school at
large, and compared the actual state of the children--with the
advantages they have enjoyed! How common are such reflections as
these—"Alas! how few of these children appear at present to be the
better, as to any moral improvement, for the instructions they have
received. How few have received any serious impressions, or imbibed
any pious principles. How many appear just as depraved--as when
they entered the school, and are leaving it without a single proof on
which a teacher can rest his hope that they are really the better for
his instructions. And even of those who at one time seemed to
promise well, how few are there whose budding excellences have
escaped the corrupting influence of bad example. Disappointed so
often, we are afraid to indulge another expectation. Where are the
boasted advantages of Sunday School instruction? Where the general
improvement of mind, of manners, and of heart, for which we have
been waiting? The mass of the present generation of the poor seem to
be growing up as wicked and immoral as any that are past. We have
labored almost in vain, and spent our strength for nothing! It
amounts well near to a question with us, whether we may not
relinquish our efforts without any serious injury to the interests of
morality or true religion."

This is the dark side of the picture. But it has a bright one, which
should check these discouraging apprehensions, and resist the
paralyzing influence they are calculated to nourish. That in a great
majority of cases no present visible effect, of a pious kind, is
produced, I admit. But equally obvious it is, that in not a few
instances this happy result has been witnessed. Could you look at the
aggregate of success, which has already followed these exertions, you
would behold a scene which would fix your attention in silent
wonder--or elevate your heart into transports of delight.

It is a fact which abundant evidence confirms, that multitudes of

children have already been converted to God, blessed for both
worlds, and made happy for eternity--by means of Sunday School
instruction. At the very moment when you are giving vent to the
sighs of disappointment, and yielding to the influence of
despondency, a thousand harps are struck in heaven by a band of
glorified spirits, who received their first devout impressions in a
Sunday School. Could you listen to their harmony, and gaze upon
their beauty—could you witness the seraphic glow which is diffused
over their frame, and hear the rapturous praises which they pour
forth to him that sits upon the throne, as often as they repeat the
honored name of their beloved teacher--discouragement before such
a scene would instantly vanish, and animated hope would fill its
place. When you feel despondency creeping through your soul, send
your imagination for one of these heavenly harpers, and by the song
of her conversion, let her charm away the gloomy thoughts of your
troubled bosom!

On the way to heaven, as well as within its gates--are a goodly

company, redeemed from their vain and evil lives--within the
confines of a Sunday School. Scarcely a Christian church will be
found in the kingdom, that has had such an institution under its care
—but records some members who by these means were converted
from the error of their ways. The number of living witnesses, who,
from heartfelt experience, can bear their testimony to the spiritual
benefit of this system, would perhaps more than fill one of our
largest places of public worship.

In addition to this, numberless instances of external reformation

have occurred, and many who would otherwise have been running to
excess of riot, have been trained to habits of morality, industry, and
cleanliness.

In many cases, the seed of the kingdom has begun to germinate long
before your eye discerns the hidden process. A secret work is going
on, perhaps, which shall one day surprise and delight you. The first
dawn of day commences amidst the thickest shadows of night; the
tide begins to turn long before it is observed by a person walking
upon the shore; thus the incipient stage of conversion is often lost, to
every eye but His which sees in secret, amidst the remains of
unregeneracy. When you are most discouraged--there may be the
least cause for it.

Even those unhappy youths whose conduct excludes all joy for the
present, and almost all hope for the future--even they, at some
distant time, may yield a rich harvest from the seed which is now,
with respect to them, sown in tears. The instructions you
communicate can never be totally forgotten. They give light and
power to conscience; keep the mind in a state of susceptibility to
devout impression, and render the heart more tangible to those
incidents of a providential nature which are continually occurring to
arrest the sinner in his career. In the gloomy season of distress, when
reflection can be resisted no longer--then what they were taught in
your class, may be brought most vividly to remembrance. Then,
when no preacher, and no friend is near, conscience may denounce
the terrors of the law, and memory the glad tidings of the gospel,
until the poor trembling sinner, amidst the long neglected stores that
were deposited in her mind at the Sunday School, finds the means of
her conviction, conversion, and consolation.

It may be also observed, that those people are far more likely than
others, to receive benefit from the public preaching of the gospel--
whose minds have been previously trained in the knowledge of its
principles. They have a clearer understanding of the sermons which
they hear. It is through the mind that God converts the heart--so they
are in a fairer way to derive spiritual impression than people who
have lived in the most brutish ignorance. This is a species of
advantage arising from Sunday School instruction not sufficiently
thought of. The teacher is unquestionably a powerful auxiliary to the
preacher, and the success of the latter in many cases must in justice
be shared by the former. You may therefore check the despondency
of your hearts, with this consideration, that where no present visible
effect is produced by your instructions--you may be preparing its
subject for this great change of conversion, which is afterwards to be
effected under the instrumentality of the minister.

Children, in whose hearts devout impression may have been

produced, are often removed from beneath your care--before you
have an opportunity to witness the fruit of your toil! But the eye of
God is upon his own work, and he will in eternity, make known to
you all that he does by you.

As to the discouragement which arises from the general appearance

of the lower orders of society it should be recollected, that a mighty
change indeed must be wrought before it becomes visible in the
aggregate; which ought not to be expected until the system has had
the range of another generation or two, to work upon the mass of the
poor with the weight of accumulated benefit. Thousands and
thousands of instances of individual conversion and reformation may
be effected, without at present altering the visible condition of the
poor in general. Wickedness is noisy and obtrusive, and may be seen
and heard in every place of concourse. Piety is silent, modest, and
retiring; not lifting up her voice in the street, nor praying at the
corners of the streets. One murder makes more noise, and gathers
more attention--than a hundred conversions. To see the abounding
of wickedness, the overflowing of ungodliness, we need not give
ourselves the trouble of research—but to witness the good effects of
Sunday Schools, we must follow the subjects of them to the closet of
devotion, and to the retired scenes of domestic life and social order,
where, like the violet, they are to be traced rather by their fragrance
than their aromas, and are valued in private more, than they are
known in public.

2. A second source of discouragement is often found in the conduct

of the children's PARENTS.

It is extremely disheartening to meet with so little cooperation as is

generally afforded by them; this however should produce double
exertions on your part, by convincing you that the children are cast
entirely on your mercy, for pious and moral improvement.

The same insensibility and ingratitude as are displayed by the

children, are also in many cases manifested by their parents. It is not
uncommon to meet with people so stupidly thankless, as to talk of
conferring obligations upon us--by sending their children to our
schools. Such monstrous ingratitude is exceedingly trying to your
benevolence, and sometimes nearly extinguishes it. Let not the
children, however, suffer for the sins of their parents. Continue to
nourish their interests, and promote their welfare in opposition to
every discouragement. Remember you profess that your efforts are
perfectly gratuitous, and therefore to be consistent you should make
them dependent upon no wages--not even the effusions of a grateful
heart. Do good for its own sake, and let your reward arise from the
consciousness of doing it. A good man shall be satisfied from himself.
Imitate the conduct of your adorable Redeemer, who ever went about
doing good--amidst a degree of horrid insensibility and vile
ingratitude, sufficient one should have thought, to make 'infinite
mercy' herself weary in well doing.

3. Sometimes you are cast down by the unconcern which is

manifested by the SENIOR, and more respectable members of the
church. It can never be sufficiently deplored that so large a fund of
knowledge, wisdom, and experience as is to be found in the senior
branches of many of our congregations, should be entirely withheld
from the interests of the children. And the regret is considerably
increased by observing the total indifference with which such people
frequently regard the whole concerns of the school. This arises from
a mistaken idea that these things belong exclusively to the young. Is
there anything, I would ask, in this business, which would render it a
disgrace for the most affluent, aged, or pious members of our
churches--to display a solicitude in its prosperity? Did even the
Savior of the world interest himself in the care of young children--
and can any one of his followers think such a concern beneath him?

I am not now asking the aged to sit down upon the floor with the
young--or to sustain the toils of labor amidst the infirmities of old
age. I am not urging the father to neglect the souls of his own
offspring, in order to instruct the children of the stranger. All I ask,
all I wish, is that they would discover a lively and constant solicitude
in the welfare of the school--and give it as much of their time and
their attention as their bodily strength would allow, and prior claims
admit. The hoary crown of a righteous older person, occasionally
seen within the precincts of the school, sheds a luster upon the
institution, and encourages the ardor of youthful bosoms. The
children are awed, the teachers are animated by the occasional
assistance of men whose standing in the church, and ripened piety,
command respect. Where this, however, is unhappily denied, and the
young are left without the counsel of old age to guide them, or its
smile to reward them--instead of yielding to the discouragement,
endeavor by your own renewed exertions to remedy the evil, and
supply the defect. The less others care for the children--the more
concern to be diligent should operate in your heart.

4. The mind of a teacher is very often discouraged by the lack of

efficient cooperation in his FELLOW-LABORERS.
Perhaps you are lamenting that your co-workers are either too few in
number, or lamentably defective in suitable qualifications. Plans of
usefulness which you know are adapted to promote the great end are
opposed, or counteracted by the ignorance and stubbornness of your
fellow-teachers. You are left almost to struggle alone. You cannot do
the things you would. Thwarted and impeded, you are often ready to
quit the field where your operations are cramped, and your
usefulness diminished. The reason for your resignation is however--
the strongest for your continuance. The fewer there are to carry on
the cause, or the more slender their qualifications are, the more
criminal would it be in you to retire. This would be to forsake the
cause in its emergency, and take your place among the mere friends
of its prosperity. Nothing can be more noble than to see a man
struggling the more, for a benevolent object, the more he is opposed
by some, and neglected by others. It is the glory and triumph of great
minds—a sort of heroism in the cause of mercy. Perseverance may
bring its reward with it by collecting round you, in process of time--a
band of laborers like minded, who will rejoice to put themselves
under the direction of such a leader!

THE MOST EFFECTUAL MEANS OF

KEEPING UP ZEAL

It is a fact which all experience proves, that the most important

object, by being constantly in sight, loses much of its power to
interest. Zeal is apt to languish, when it is no longer excited by the
stimulus of novelty—and the fervor of first love, without great care,
will soon sink into dull formality. It is not to be wondered at, if
among the active supporters of a Sunday School, the vice of
lukewarmness should sometimes be found. Hence it is of importance
to ascertain the best means for keeping up the zeal of the teacher's
office. By this I mean, the prosecution of its duties with vigor,
interest, and delight—in opposition to that lifeless and indolent
manner of dragging through them which is but too common with
many.

1. Keep in view the ultimate object of your labors.

The more importance we attach to an object, the less danger we shall

be exposed to, of ceasing to regard it with solicitude. Whatever is
momentous, must be interesting. Hence the necessity of keeping
steadily and clearly before your mind, the salvation of the soul, as the
ultimate end of all your efforts. What can have such a tendency to
engage the feelings, and keep them engaged, as this? The mere
endeavor to teach them reading or writing; the effort at only
intellectual improvement, cannot in the very nature of things have
such power over the heart of the teacher—as the steady
contemplation of the immortal soul's salvation as a noble prize—and
eternity as a wonderful excitement. If anything can keep up the spirit
of the office, it is to bring the mind from time to time under the
influence of such inducements as these. When you feel your heart
losing its ardor, and sinking into a lukewarm state, look afresh to the
world of immortality, and behold in the crown of eternal life, the
object of your pursuit. If anything can keep your attention alive to
the interests of the children, it will be the constant repetition of this
sentiment—"I am seeking their everlasting salvation!"

2. Well conducted Sunday School Unions have a powerful tendency

to promote the spirit of your office.
The occasional meeting of fellow laborers from different schools,
together with the interesting communications and mutual
exhortations which are then delivered, have a very enlivening effect.
The very sight of so large a body of fellow teachers, engaged in the
same cause, has an exhilarating tendency, especially when one and
another details the results of successful exertions. Not only do
neighboring flames brighten each other's blaze—but even dying
embers upon the hearth, by being brought into contact mutually
rekindle the expiring spark. Thus the communion which is
established by these associations, promotes, in a very powerful
manner, the feelings essential to the character of a good teacher. A
holy emulation is also excited, which, if it does not degenerate into
envy, leads on to the happiest effects. The annual meetings which are
necessarily connected with the union, aid the general impression,
and keep up the interest in an eminent degree. It has been
universally admitted by those who have tried the plan, that it is
pregnant with advantages to that particular object which I am now
considering. The teachers who are connected with the best regulated
unions, can testify, from ample experience, to their adaptation in
keeping up the spirit of the office.

3. Occasional meetings among the teachers of the same school, for

conversation and prayer, in immediate reference to their joint labors,
are exceedingly beneficial.

At these meetings everything should he communicated which occurs

in the course of individual experience, that is at all calculated for
general encouragement. Each one should feel himself under
obligation to render these friendly interviews as interesting as he
can, by making known everything he sees, or hears, or reads, that is
of an instructive, or stimulating nature; especially taking care that
nothing is done for the sake of vain glory or pride, as it would
effectually counteract their beneficial influence—to have them
converted into occasions for display.

4. Ministerial assistance, in the way of exhortation, inspection, and

advice, would powerfully contribute to keep up the true spirit of the
office.

Engage your respective ministers to meet you occasionally in your

social interviews, that by the breath of animated exhortation they
might fan the expiring spark, and feed the holy fire. Accustomed to
public admonition, they know how to touch the springs of action, and
to awaken the dormant energies of the human mind. It is no pride in
me to say, that if a minister's heart is engaged in the work, and he is
respected by his people, he has it in his power to awaken an interest
in the minds of the teachers which scarcely anything else can supply.
Use every means therefore to engage his zealous concern in the
welfare of the institution.

It is matter of great surprise and equal regret, that many ministers

appear to take little or no interest in the concerns of the Sunday
Schools supported by their congregations. They are scarcely ever to
be seen among the children, or affording their presence and
instruction at the meetings of the teachers. The annual sermon which
they preach for the benefit of the institution, seems to be regarded by
them as a legal discharge from all further obligation to intervene on
its behalf—and until they sit down to compose their sermon for the
next anniversary it is neglected and forgotten. To what can such an
omission be attributed? They can scarcely imagine that a school
containing two, three, or four hundred immortal souls, is an object
below their notice, or beyond their duty—nor will they shelter
themselves under the excuse that when they undertook the charge of
the congregation, they did not stipulate to concern themselves about
the school. Does it comport with that zeal and pity by which they
profess to be moved—to hear of so many immortal souls, most of
them grossly ignorant, and wicked, assembled every week within the
sphere of their labors, for religious instruction—and yet scarcely ever
inquire how they are going on? Do not such ministers strangely
neglect the means of increasing their own personal influence, who
allow so important an institution to be in constant operation amidst
their people, and yet have little or no share in directing its
movements? Is it not teaching their congregations to act
independently of their pastors, and to diminish the weight of their
office, already in the estimation of many far too light? Do they
consult the interests of the church by neglecting those of the Sunday
School? If a proper share of attention were given to those poor
youths, in all probability its happy result would often prove a balm to
heal the wounds occasioned by a lack of ministerial success. Here
they would find materials to build up their dilapidated churches, and
strengthen the walls of Zion, which have been long moldering
beneath the desolating ravages of death. It is true, in many cases the
pastor's hands are already nearly full of cares, and his arms weighed
down with the interests suspended upon them—but the duty I enjoin
would add little to the number or the weight of his engagements,
while it would add much to his influence, his usefulness, and his
comfort.

5. A constant perusal of publications that relate to Sunday School

instruction, especially the details of successful exertion, would be
exceedingly useful.

Any particular taste is vigorously stimulated by the perusal of books

that treat of its appropriate subject. Be ever watchful therefore to
meet with new information and facts illustrative of the advantages of
the work in which you are engaged. You rise from reading an
encouraging anecdote, with fresh eagerness. You see what others do
and how they do it—thus, while you are directed, you are also
excited. I recommend, with peculiar earnestness, the 'Teacher's
Magazine', already alluded to in the introduction, as eminently
adapted to preserve in your bosom the true spirit of your office.

6. An imitation of the best examples would promote the same end.

In every school we shall find some whose superior qualifications and

zeal entitle them to be considered as models. Instead of observing
them with envy, mark them with admiration, cultivate their
acquaintance, and endeavor, by the glowing ardor of their spirit, to
re-kindle the fervor of your own.

7. Occasionally devoting a portion of time to examine the state of the

mind in reference to your duties, would be a means of improvement.

It should be impressed upon your mind, that there is in the human

spirit—a lamentable propensity to lukewarmness, which can be
effectually roused only by a violent and perpetual struggle with
ourselves. The true spirit of religion is very powerfully assisted by
extraordinary seasons of devotion. The attention is more arrested
and fixed by what is unusual, than what occurs in the ordinary
routine of customary engagements. Half an hour occasionally
devoted to a serious examination of the state of the heart, in
reference to the object you have embraced, when you could
deliberately survey its magnitude, ascertain the manner in which it
should be regarded, recollect the way in which it had been pursued
by you—would rouse your zeal from its slumber, stimulate your heart
to fresh activity, and be attended with the happiest effects.

To all that I have enjoined, should be added a constant supplication

at the throne of divine grace, that God, by his Holy Spirit, would keep
alive in your heart those feelings of holy benevolence and pious zeal
in which the spirit of the office essentially consists.

MOTIVES TO DILIGENCE IN THE WORK

If, in addition to what has been already advanced, anything is still

lacking to stimulate your zeal, yield your hearts to the influence of
the following motives—

1. Dwell upon the value of Sunday Schools to all the present interests
of SOCIETY. As Britons and as Christians, you must love the country
that gave you birth—and that man is unworthy to tread the soil, or
breathe the air of England, who is insensible to blessings of this
"bright speck upon the bosom of the ocean." Now, if we love our
country, we must desire to see her great amidst the nations of the
earth; safe amidst her greatness; and happy in her safety. And who
needs to be informed, that wisdom and knowledge must be the
stability of her times? Her greatness, her safety, and her happiness,
all rest upon the moral character of her population. Whatever
elevates this, exalts the nation. Next to the labors of an evangelical
ministry, no plan that ever was devised, has a greater tendency to
improve the religious state of society, than the institution of Sunday
Schools.

Sunday Schools lessen the CRIMES which disturb its peace. It is to

be recollected, that the instruction communicated by you is strictly
moral and religious. How far mere general knowledge, independently
of revelation, would operate in improving the moral character of a
people, we can scarcely presume to determine, because the
experiment has never been tried. But that the communication of
Scriptural knowledge has a most beneficial tendency, it would be
ridiculous to attempt to prove. It may be useful, however, here to
remind you of those great national facts which are so often appealed
to, in illustration of the good effects of religious education among the
poor. It is generally known and allowed that Scotland, and the low
counties of it in particular, are distinguished from all other parts of
the British empire, by the attention which is bestowed on early
education, and the provision which is made for the wide and regular
diffusion of its benefits. It is provided by law in Scotland, that there
shall be a school established, and a master appointed in every parish.
Many additional schools are also founded by donations and legacies;
so that in the southern parts of the kingdom, it is very rare to find a
person who cannot both read and write; and it is deemed scandalous
not to be possessed of a bible. Now what are the effects of all this
upon the national character and habits of the Scotch, and on the
morals and order of society? It is principally owing to this, says Mr.
Howard the philanthropist, that the numerous emigrants from that
country, dispersed over almost all Europe, appear with credit, and
advance themselves in their several stations. From the tables of the
same justly celebrated writer, it appears that in the whole of
Scotland, whose population was estimated to amount to be at least
one million, six hundred thousand souls, only one hundred and
thirty-four people were convicted of 'capital crimes' in a period of
nineteen years; being on the average, about seven in each year. In a
subsequent table we are informed, that in the single circuit of
Norfolk, in England, including six counties, and containing, it is
supposed, not more than eight hundred thousand people, being but
one half of the population of Scotland, no less than four hundred and
thirty-four criminals were condemned to death in the space of twenty
three years—which is an annual average of nearly nineteen capital
convicts, besides eight hundred and seventy-four sentenced to exile.
The double population of Scotland being taken into the account,
there is thus a difference in its favor, in this important point, in the
ratio of seven to thirty-eight. (Extracted from Mr. Jabez Bunting's
Sermon, preached before the members of the Sunday School Union.)

Now it should be observed, that the education in Scotland to which

this superiority may be attributed, embraces much that is moral and
pious, although there is reason to fear that of late years some
relaxation has taken place.

If we pass over to Ireland, we shall find the darkest part of the

empire, with respect to education, the most prolific of crimes and
miseries. The wretched state of that unhappy country is in a
considerable degree to be traced up to the prevalence of a
superstitious religion, which withholds education from the poor.

Consider then what benefits you are conferring upon society by

promoting the religious education of the poor. But besides the crimes
which are cognizable by human laws, you are the happy instruments
of lessening the prevalence of that multitude of vices, which although
amenable only at the bar of God, convulse society to its center, and
spread suffering and misery through all its walks. Profanity and
falsehood; drunkenness and debauchery; excessive rage and
ungoverned malignity; and all the dispositions that in the different
social relations render man a fend to man, it may be reasonably
hoped, are considerably diminished by the influence of your
benevolent exertions.

On the outer hand, Sunday Schools multiply the VIRTUES that

establish the comfort of society. All the particular duties that arise
out of the reciprocal ties of society are inculcated, while the general
principles of benevolence and submission, which like two mighty
columns support the whole fabric of ours social concerns—are deeply
founded in the human bosom. Although the general aspect of society,
in its lower classes, appears as yet unchanged, and the wintry face of
its morality, at present, seems to throw to a great distance the
harvest of your zeal—still let it be a stimulus to your exertions, to be
assured that you are pouring the principle of moral fertility through a
thousand channels, and that already you see here and there a spring
flower lifting its head amidst barrenness and storms, the welcome
harbinger of a happier season. Already innumerable masters bless
your labors for faithful servants—wives pour out their gratitude for
industrious and affectionate husbands, and children, as they gather
round the knees of a kind and tender father, well-clad, well-fed, well-
taught—turn to you with the thankful smiles of their bliss, as their
benefactors, who made their parents what they are. Society, through
all its ranks, gratefully acknowledges the obligations conferred by
your labors, and earnestly solicits their continuance. The king from
his throne, and the senate in full convention, have paid the tribute of
admiration to the utility of your exertions. You are acknowledged to
be some of the best friends of the community, and the most efficient
philanthropists of the poor. Your efforts are directed to prevent
crimes—instead of punishing them; and to prevent misery—instead
of merely relieving it. Pursue your labors with increasing diligence,
since their tendency is to strengthen the foundations, and adorn the
fabric of society.

2. Dwell upon the incalculable worth of immortal souls. So far as the

children are individually concerned, I again remind you, that their
temporal interests are the lowest object of pursuit. Your ultimate and
highest end is the salvation of the immortal soul. This is your aim, to
be instrumental in converting the souls of the children from the error
of their ways, and training them up in the fear of God—for
everlasting glory! What an object! The immortal soul! The salvation
of the human spirit! The soul was the last and noblest work of God in
the formation of the world; the finish and ornament of this material
fabric, on which the divine architect bestowed his most mature
deliberation, and expended his richest treasures. It stood amidst
creation the fair and beauteous image of the Creator. This was the
object which upon his expulsion from Paradise, first caught the
envious eye of Satan, and in the spoils of which his malice sought a
fiend-like solace for the loss of heaven. This was the object which in
its fall dragged the creation into a vortex of ruin. This was the object
selected by the great God in the councils of eternity, whose salvation
should be the means of exhibiting to the universe the most glorious
display of his divine perfections. This was the object on which his
mercy, wisdom, and power were to exhaust their united resources.
This was the object for which the Son of God could justify himself to
all worlds—as not demeaning his dignity, or disparaging his wisdom,
when for its salvation he veiled his divinity in human flesh, was made
lower than the angels for a while, tabernacled amidst the sorrows of
mortality, and closed a life of humiliation and suffering upon the
ignominious summit of the cross. This is the object for which all the
revelations of heaven, and all the dispensations of grace; all the
labors of prophets, priests, and apostles—in short, all the splendid
apparatus of redemption, was arranged. This is the object whose
interests render angels unquiet upon their heavenly seats, and draw
them with exquisite solicitude to minister to its safety. Such is the
retinue attending upon the soul of man, into whose train you have
fallen.

What then must be the value of the human soul! Now you see the
justice of our savior's language—"What is a man profited if he gains
the whole world, and loses his own soul; or what shall a man give in
exchange for his soul?" Now you perceive this is no hyperbole, and
that literally the globe weighed against the value of one human soul—
is less than the small dust of the balance. Convert the sun into one
blazing diamond, the moon into an exquisite pearl, and every star
that decks the skies into a gemstone—all this bears no proportion to
the value of a soul. Arithmetic, with all its powers, is here of no use;
it cannot aid our conceptions. Think of the immortality of the soul,
and this one property of its nature raises it above all calculation. It is
in consequence of this, that it has been said with justice, that the
salvation of a soul amounts to a greater sum of happiness, than the
temporal deliverance of an empire for a thousand ages, for the latter
will come to an end—but not the former. By the same argument the
loss of one soul is a greater catastrophe than the sum total of all the
temporal misery endured upon the face of the globe from the period
of the fall, to the final and universal conflagration! Say now—is not
such an object worthy all the means that are, or can be employed for
its attainment? Do you hesitate? Ponder, intensely ponder again. The
subject can never be exhausted; the more it is studied, the wider will
its compass appear. Should you be the happy instrument of
converting but one soul to God, what honor are you providing for
yourselves, what happiness for others!

My imagination has sometimes presented me with this picture of a

faithful teacher's entrance to the state of her everlasting rest. The
agony of death finished, the triumph of faith completed—and the
conquering spirit hastening to her crown. Upon the confines of the
heavenly world, a form divinely lovely awaits her arrival. Enrapt in
astonishment at the dazzling glory of this celestial inhabitant, and as
yet a stranger in the world of spirits, she inquires, "Is this Gabriel,
chief of all the heavenly multitudes—and am I honored with his aid
to guide me to the throne of God?" With a smile of ineffable delight,
such as gives fresh beauty to an angel's countenance, the mystic form
replies, "Do you remember little Elizabeth, who was in yonder world,
a pupil in your Sunday school class? Do you recollect the child who
wept as you talked to her of sin—and directed her to the cross of the
dying Redeemer? God smiled with approbation upon your effort, and
by his own Spirit sealed the impression upon her heart in characters
never to be effaced. Providence removed her from beneath your care,
before the fruit of your labor was visible. The gospel seed, however,
had taken root, and it was the business of another to water what you
had sown. Nourished by the influence of heaven, the plant of piety
flourished in her heart, and shed its fragrance upon her character.
Piety, after guarding her from the snares of youth, cheered her
amidst the accumulated trials of an afflicted life, supported her
amidst the agonies of her last conflict, and elevated her to the
mansions of immortality! And now behold before you, the glorified
spirit of that poor child, who under God owes the eternal life on
which she has lately entered, to your faithful labors in the Sunday
School; and who is now sent by our Redeemer to introduce you to the
world of glory, as your first and least reward for guiding the once
thoughtless, ignorant, wicked Elizabeth to the world of grace! Hail,
happy spirit! Hail, favored of the Lord! Hail, deliverer of my soul!
Hail, to the world of eternal glory!"

I can trace the scene no further. I cannot paint the raptures produced
in the honored teacher's bosom by this unexpected encounter. I
cannot depict the mutual gratitude and love of two such spirits
meeting on the confines of heaven, much less can I follow them to
their everlasting mansion, and disclose the bliss which they shall
enjoy before the throne of God!

All this, and a thousand times more, is attendant upon the salvation
of one single soul! Teachers, what a motive to diligence!

3. Consider to what indefinite lengths your usefulness may extend.

Where you design only the improvement of individuals, God,
through those individuals, may make you the instruments of blessing
multitudes! Where you intend only to produce private worth, God
may employ your zeal to form public excellences. You may be the
means of nourishing and developing intellectual energies, which
shall one day be of the greatest benefit to the civil interests of society.
And what is more important, you may be imparting the first
rudiments of that knowledge and piety, which in their maturity may
be employed by God in the service of the sanctuary. Ministers are
already preaching that gospel to others which they themselves first
learned in a Sunday School; and missionaries are arresting the
savages of the desert with the sweet wonders of that cross—which
was first displayed to their own view by the efforts of a faithful
teacher. Such instances, in all probability, will occur again, and are
fairly within the scope of your ambition. In such a case who can trace
the progression of your usefulness, or tell into how wide a stream it
shall expand into—as it rolls forward in a course never to be arrested,
but by the sound of that trumpet which proclaims that time shall be
no more!

4. Think upon the shortness of the time during which the children
can enjoy your care. In a few, a very few years at most, they will all be
gone beyond your instruction. Every Sunday almost, some are
leaving the school and retiring, it is to be feared in many cases,
beyond the sound of pious admonition, forever! Beyond the age of
fifteen or sixteen, few remain to enjoy the privileges of the school;
and but few, comparatively, remain so long. Could we even protract
the period of childhood, and lengthen the term during which they
consider themselves as beneath our care; could we in every instance
be convinced that when they leave our schools, they still continue to
enjoy the means of pious nurture, even in this case there would be no
ground for a relaxation of your diligence—the value of the soul, and
the importance of its salvation, would demand your utmost exertion.
But this is not the case. In a year or two you must give them up—and
to what! To the violence of their own corruptions—to the strength of
their own passions—to the pollution of evil company—without a
friend to watch over them, or a single guide to direct them. On
leaving the school, many of them take leave of the church; and when
they cease to hear the voice of the teacher, listen no more to the
joyful sound from the lips of the preacher.

What a motive to diligence! Can you be insensible to its force? Can

you read this simple statement and not feel every dormant energy
stirring within you? Can you not resolve, by the help of God, to renew
your efforts? Do you not feel the blush of shame for 'past
indifference' diffusing itself this moment over your countenance? By
all that is dear and invaluable in the eternal interests of the children;
by the shortness of the time during which those interests will be
under your care, I implore you to be diligent to the very last effort of
your soul.

5. Remember how transient is the season during which you can be

employed in these labors of love. Were you certain of reaching the
extreme boundaries of human existence, and had the prospect of
extending your exertions far into the season of old age; yes, could
you be ensured to live a thousand years, and employ it all for the
good of others—even under these circumstances, you could not be
too diligent in the business of your office. Immortality is a theme that
will support the weightiest arguments, and justify the most
impassioned exhortations. I again repeat, nor fear the charge of
'repetition'—the salvation of immortal souls is the ultimate object of
your office! And when professing to labor for such an object,
indolence would be inexcusable amidst the range of centuries. But
you have not centuries at command. "What is your life! it is even as a
vapor that appears for a little while, and then vanishes away!" The
uncertainty of life is a proverb, which we hear every day repeated; a
fact which we see every day proved. You may be soon and suddenly
called away from the scene of labor. You leave the school every
Sunday without knowing that you shall return to it again. Death pays
respect neither to youth, nor usefulness—but mows down together
the tender herb, the fragrant flower, and noxious weed. The next
stroke of his scythe may reach you! Among the names that will be
inserted in the report of the present year's proceedings as blotted
from the book of mortal life, yours may be read at the next
anniversary amidst the sighs and the tears of your fellow teachers!
The place which knows you now, may then know you no more
forever. You are laboring in the garden of the Lord—but in the
garden is a sepulcher. "Work while it is called today, the night comes
when no man can work. Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with
your might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor
wisdom in the grave where you go." Enter upon every Sunday's
exertions with the reflection that it may be your last—and be as
diligent as if you knew that it would!

But death is not the only way in which a termination can be put to
your exertions. In a few years the claims and the cares of a rising
family may demand your time at home. For however cordially you
may be disposed to continue your benevolent attention to the duties
of the school and the interests of the children, the demands of the
household of your own must be admitted. The honor of doing
anything in this way for the cause of God and souls, truth and
holiness, may soon be removed beyond your reach. The opportunity
will last but a little longer for you to enrich the crown of your
rejoicing with fresh gems, or to increase that part of the bliss of
heaven, which will arise from witnessing the raptures of those whom
we were the instruments of introducing to the mansions of glory. It is
a golden season that you now enjoy—it is rapidly passing away—it
will never return; diligently improve it therefore, while it lasts!

6. Dwell upon the honor of being instrumental in imparting moral,

spiritual, and eternal benefits. I have already pointed out, which
indeed requires no proof—the adaptation of Sunday School
instruction to promote the moral excellence of the lower classes—and
whoever does this, must be acknowledged to be the most useful, and
therefore the most honorable member of the community. The men
who have improved and adorned their country by the splendid
creations of their genius, have had their names emblazoned in the
temple of fame, and received all the honors which admiring
generations could confer upon their memory. But what is the honor
of adorning a city with the classic productions of the chisel or the
pencil, and filling it with temples, statues, and paintings—compared
with the more useful labor of causing righteousness to flow down its
streets like a river, erecting the temples of the Holy Spirit, and
multiplying even in the abodes of poverty, the living images of the
great God? In imparting moral and spiritual good, you are conferring
benefits which shall be perpetuated through infinite ages after the
fashion of this world has passed away forever! This is emphatically to
do good!

What can equal the honor of being instrumental in reforming,

renewing, sanctifying, and adorning the human character; clothing it
with the virtues of morality, and investing it with the graces of true
godliness! Among the ancient Pagans, it was a title of the highest
honor to be termed a 'Benefactor'—to have done good was accounted
honorable; hence the apostle argues that for a good man, that is a
man who does good, some would even dare to die. "To love the
public," says a wicked writer, who yet found himself compelled by
the force of reason to publish this confession, "to study the universal
good, and to promote the interest of the world as far as it is in our
power, is surely the highest goodness, and constitutes that temper
which we call divine." In this consists the true honor of your
employment, that it is doing good, and to do good is Godlike. God is
by no means dependant upon the use of 'means' for the
communication of moral and spiritual benefits—he could have
accomplished the purposes of his benevolence without the
intervention of human instrumentality; this arrangement was
designed in the way of favor to humanity, and was expressly
intended as a distinguished, though unmerited, honor upon the
human race.

Dwell upon your character and circumstances, and say if it is not

singular goodness in Jehovah to employ you in imparting the
knowledge of his nature and of his will, to your fellow creatures. The
good you do is not merely of a temporal nature; although even in this
sense it is a high honor to do good. It is noble to feed the hungry, to
clothe the naked, to heal the sick, and shelter the aged. The name of
the philanthropist shines with a purer, brighter glory on the page of
history than any other. If then, it is so honorable to do good to the
body, how much greater the distinction to relieve the miseries and
establish the interests of the immortal spirit; to render our fellow
creatures happy in themselves, and a blessing to others; to fit them
for the communion of heaven, after having taught them to be the
humble ornaments of society on earth!

To communicate eternal spiritual good—is the very noblest

employment of an intelligent being. It is that very operation in which
the great God takes more delight than in all the rest of his works.
This was the object on which the heart of the Redeemer was set when
he was made flesh and dwelt among us. For this the Holy Spirit was
poured out from above. For this prophets labored and apostles
preached. In the perfect enjoyment of spiritual benefits will consist
the consummation of heaven itself. What a distinguished honor then
to be engaged, although in the humblest manner, in such a work!
This is to be raised into a likeness of that glorious being who is good
and does good. A time is fast arriving when it will be seen and felt,
that to have been instrumental in conferring spiritual good upon one
soul of man, is a brighter and more lasting glory than the most solid
achievements of philosophy, or the most splendid discoveries of
science!

Let, it be manifest then by your diligence, that you are sensible of

your privilege. Put not the glory away from you. Stir up every energy
of your soul, to do all the good you can. It is an object worthy of your
hallowed ambition. The warrior who is pressing through human
misery to pluck his blood-stained laurels, thinks little of the hazard
of his life. The author, by intense study, is wasting away his strength
to gain the prize of literary fame. The the artist is laboring for the
applause of futurity. Be it your object to do good to the present and
eternal interests of your fellow creatures, and in such a career, your
ambition is pursuing a loftier flight than all the rest, and ascending
into regions far elevated above the highest pinnacle of the temple of
fame.

7. Consider what results might be expected—if every teacher were

possessed of all suitable qualifications, and were to devote himself to
the duties of his office with all possible diligence. It may be safely
affirmed that we have never yet seen, that we have scarcely yet
conjectured the hundredth part of the benefit which the Sunday
School system might be made to produce—when applied under all
the advantages of which it is susceptible. Its adaptation and
capacities for improving the condition of the poor are admirable and
incalculable. Take the aggregate number of Sunday school teachers,
and suppose that these teachers, to whom the pious education of
millions of poor children are entrusted—were all fully qualified for
their office, and most diligently employed in discharging its duties;
suppose they were all people of exemplary piety; possessed of an
enlarged acquaintance with the whole range of revealed truth; well
instructed in all the general proprieties of human understanding;
endowed with peculiar aptitude to impart instruction to the youthful
mind, and patient in their temper. With such qualifications suppose
they all recognized, as the ultimate end of their labors, the formation
of those truly pious habits in the children, which should be
connected with the salvation of their immortal souls, and
subordinate to this the improvement of their general character, so as
to render them kind, gentle, submissive, and orderly. Then conceive
of these thousands of teachers, thus fitted for their work, devoting
themselves to their weekly business of instruction with intense ardor
of mind; entering upon the duties of their office Sunday after Sunday
with a deeply interested heart; laboring with the most affectionate
and unwearied solicitude for their present and eternal welfare;
conducting the whole business of instruction with a judicious
discrimination of the different tempers they have to deal with; wisely
applying all suitable rewards and punishments; punctual and
unwearied in their attention; dignified yet affable in their manner—
and mingling with all their efforts importunate prayer to him who
alone can render them effectual. In addition to this, suppose them in
their behavior one to another to be universally affectionate and
respectful, acting in perfect harmony for the general good, and
animated by one mind. Suppose, I say, that this were universally the
case with the vast body of Sunday School teachers—what results
might we not expect!

When we consider the adaptation of the system itself to impart

religious instruction, and produce pious impression; when we
consider that godly education is among God's own instituted means
of conversion; when we consider how willing he is to pour out the
influence of his Spirit upon the ordinances which he has appointed—
especially when we add to this the good effects which have already
resulted from the imperfect application of the system—it is scarcely
possible to conjecture what a glorious revolution would be visible in
the habits of the lower orders of society, if our teachers were
universally such as I have described. Instead of hearing occasionally
that here and there a child was under pious concern—we would in all
probability have the pleasing scene before us of great numbers
inquiring the way to Zion with their faces thitherward. Instead of
occasionally witnessing external reformation of conduct in those who
were crude, intractable, and violent—we would often receive the
gratitude of parents rendered happy by the moral alteration in their
once disobedient and rebellious offspring. The church and the world
would both together look to the Sunday School institution as one of
the greatest blessings ever bestowed upon man!

But, ah! some will say, this is a -pleasing vision'—a Utopian picture!
Why then is it only a vision? Why is it only Utopian? Only let each
teacher resolve by God's grace, to be all that is here described—and
all the results may become a glorious reality. Instead of looking at the
whole body with a desponding wish that it were indeed entirely what
it should be, let each individual look in upon himself, determined
that nothing shall be lacking on his part to realize this blissful vision.
If we would obtain the result which the exertions of all would
produce—we must seek it by the contribution of individual diligence.

Amidst the complaints which I have often heard of a lack of success,

it has long been my conviction that this lack is to be attributed to the
defects of the teachers. Proper views, proper qualifications, and
proper diligence in those who have set their hands to the work,
would be followed with much greater practical effect than it has ever
yet been our felicity to witness. The defect is not in the system—but
in those who apply it!

Let me then most earnestly enjoin you to seek a larger measure of

suitable qualification, and to display still more diligence in this very
important institution, and by a consideration of what would be the
result if all teachers discharged their duties with wisdom and
assiduity—let your mind be excited to the greatest exertions.

8. Anticipate the approving testimony which at the last day the Lord
Jesus shall bear to all those who have in any measure promoted his
cause. That day of righteous retribution; for which all other days
were made, is hastening on. Time is drawing to a close; the world is
sinking to dissolution; and all mankind converging to "the judgment
seat of Christ, where everyone shall receive the things done in the
body according to that he has done—whether it be good or bad."

Before that tribunal you must render an account of your conduct. To

that Judge you are accountable both for your personal obedience,
and the manner in which you discharge your official duties. Then we
shall know the real state of your heart and the true character of your
motives. However diligent you may now be in the subordinate duties
of your office, yet if not a partaker of real religion, in vain will be the
effort to supply personal defects with 'official activity'—or to turn
away the wrath of him who sits upon the throne with the useless
plea, "Lord! Lord! did we not prophesy in your name?" To be
rewarded in that day, as a faithful teacher—we must first be accepted
as a real Christian! Without this you must take your place at the left
hand of the Judge, with those whom heaven rejects from her bosom,
while hell moves to swallow them up!
But should you most happily work out your own salvation with fear
and trembling, and then labor to glorify God in the salvation of your
lost pupils, not a single effort of your zeal; not a prayer nor a word
shall be forgotten in that day of holy retribution! Publicly accepted
first in your person, you shall then be as publicly applauded for those
services, which your humility may now think almost unworthy of his
notice—but which his mercy will not allow him then to overlook.
Then when the deeds of heroes shall be passed over in silence, or
mentioned with reprobation; when poets, except those who have
sung to the harp of piety; and philosophers, except such as have
employed their researches to manifest the glory of God—shall sink
down without distinction in the general mass into eternal destruction
—then shall the holy useful teacher, attended by the children he had
been the means of reclaiming, be presented before the face of an
assembled universe, arrayed with infinite honor and glory—not the
mighty multitude of patriarchs and prophets—apostles and
evangelists—reformers and martyrs—ministers and missionaries,
pressing to receive their crowns, shall throw him into obscurity, or
deprive him of his reward. But amidst surrounding millions the
faithful teacher shall stand single and apart to receive the public
plaudits of his Judge—"In as much as you have done it unto the least
of these My brethren, you have done it unto Me! Well done, good and
faithful servant, enter into the joy of your Lord!"

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MONERGISM BOOKS

The Sunday School Teacher's Guide, by John Angell James,

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