or allows the plant to die for lack of care after it has sprung up, there surely he is at fault.

Someone has said, "There is no impression without expression," that unless the child is able to make use of, to build into his life, what you have tried to impress upon him, you have failed, no real impression has been made-of course, I think, we often make the mistake of looking too soon for results and are discouraged and disappointed if we do not find them. We smile at the story of the little boy who dug up his bean, and then go and do likewise. We say to our pupils, "Try, try again," and yet, after a few efforts we ourselves give up the far more important problem of training for good citizenship, and say, "I cannot do anything with that boy. I do hope the next teacher can get hold of him." We all hope so, too; but does this end your responsibility? Will this help or make it any easier for you to get hold of the next boy, or for the next teacher to get hold of this one? Are you going to give up because of delayed results or even a few failures? Learn a lesson in patient perseverance and trust from Robert Morrison, the first missionary to China, who labored seven long, weary years before he received a single convert to his faith.

I do believe one of the greatest as well as one of the most common mistakes for the earnest, busy teacher to fall into is the inclina

are in themselves little things-a blade of grass, a sparrow, a cup of cold water, a word fitly spoken, are all little things, but dare we call them unimportant? If we could only always bear in mind that our pupils are, day by day, forming habits under our guidance and for which we are, at least, in part, responsible, and which, if good, will go far toward advancing their future success as men and women, but if careless, indolent or evil habits are forming, they will go just as far toward preventing their success. It is not possible, neither is it desirable, for the school to take the place of the home or the church, but it must stand for what is purest, noblest and best in both. When one realizes how many homes are such in name only, and how many children are never reached by the church, one trembles for this fair land of ours. Of course, it is not possible for the teacher always to overcome all the evils of heredity, and home and street environment and training; but does it not seem as if our public schools should send out a larger per cent, of men and women fitted to meet and conquer the temptations, discouragements and difficulties of life? Has not our country a right to expect much from a source to which she gives so much?

I am more and more impressed

with the belief that child life is not valued as it should be. We say, "Oh, there's time enough," and what we call "time enough" is little enough. We excuse this little fault and that bit of carelessness with, "Oh, they're so little," or "They'll know better when they're older," but while we are waiting for them to grow older, what of these habits? What a child needs is not so much a knowledge of right and wrong, but an incentive and a power to do the right when temptation comes, the power of restraint, of self-control-the courage to say "no" promptly and decisively, and to stand by it even in the face of sneers. The great Teacher surely understood the value of early training, for when he commanded Peter it was, first, "Feed my lambs," then after that the "sheep," and the archenemy of mankind lost no time in obeying this command, and he has been busy doing so ever since. The Bible doesn't say if we teach a child that certain things are right and others wrong he'll be saved, but if we train the child aright-there is such a difference between teaching and training. You can teach a child in five minutes the evil of telling a falsehood, but to so train him that he will always choose the truth will require skill, vigilance, perseverance, and "the patience of Job."

The primary teacher has here an opportunity and a work greater than the mother, for she must undo

much of the evil that has been al-. lowed before she can even begin to do. I know we hear a great deal these days about the little ones coming so pure, and sweet, and fresh, to the primary teacher, but just go into some room where she has her forty or fifty pupils, and "invoice" and see for yourself what she has on hands. Prof. Corson once gave this definition for training to a primary teacher, "Hit just as hard as you can, just as many times as you can, and from just as many sides as you can, in the same place -and then hit again-and keep on hitting."

One of the puzzling questions is how to secure purity of thought and speech, for impure language spreads contagion worse than smallpox and leaves deeper scars if the patient patient does recover. Example here is perhaps the strongest means at our command with which to combat this evil.

"Careful of fire is good advice, we know, careful of words is ten times doubly so"-especially in this day, when it is almost necessary to call in an expert to tell what is harmless (?) slang and what is actual profanity. I once visited a school where there was much concern on the part of the teacher about her pupils' language. There was so much profanity, she told That morning she gave a fine talk to her pupils, and I thought surely it would do good. As we talked of this matter at recess a

me.

little girl came into the room sobbing, "Oh, teacher, I said a naughty word, and all the little girls are coming in to tell on me." On hearing the "naughty word," the teacher, patting the little girl on the head, remarked, thoughtlessly, "Oh, never mind, dear; that isn't so bad I say that myself sometimes when I'm out of sorts." I afterwards learned that that word soon became a favorite expression among those pupils, and, no doubt, the boys argued their words were no worse than it, and thus the evil soon spread, for the teacher's influence was gone. We must be sincere, if we expect our pupils to be so. If we do not "practice what we preach," no one will find it out sooner than our pupils, and usually our "bad boy" is the first to discover it. Irreverence is a trouble we hear much of everywhere; and here, too, perhaps, the teacher is often unintentionally a stumbling block to the pupil. I remember hearing a story once that impressed me very much. A primary teacher was complaining to her superintendent that her little ones were so bad; that they did not seem to have any reverence for anybody or anything. When questioned further about it, she said one thing that troubled her was that over half her pupils sat upright during the morning prayer, with eyes open. You wonder how the teacher knew this. If she had been reverent, if she had meant every word of the prayer

she spoke, her pupils would have "fallen into line" ere long. But so soon as they discovered that she was spying on them they returned the compliment. You can see how her sincerity would be doubted, her influence weakened, and her example tried on others.

If we wish to cultivate in our pupils a love for good order everywhere, we must train them to do everything every time in a quiet, orderly manner. I do not care for the bell signals, but I do like the quiet "rise," "pass," and I would use them every time a body of pupils move about the room. I know it requires time, but everything "worth while" requires time, and besides, it does not require so much time as it does to quiet the confusion and disorder of coming without the signals. Good order is absolutely necessary to make the schoolroom pleasant and profitable. There should be such a spirit of sympathy and helpfulness between pupil and pupil, and between. teacher and pupil, that no one will feel that the teacher is a policeman watching to find fault and punish every little offender. The busy mother who finds time to look into the room a dozen times a day where her little ones are at play is never accused of being a policeman. She watches, not to find fault, but to keep off harm, to restrain the child or to recall if he goes near harm, or render assistance if any harm comes to him. I believe it is

a crime to teach children that selfpreservation is the first law of life. This is the embodiment of selfishness and cowardice. If each observed this principle, who would be heroes; who would be missionaries; who would be anything worth being? The first law of life is to do all the good you can, to be just as helpful as you can to as many people as you can.

If we wish to find our pupils kind and respectful to ourselves. each other, and all in authority, we must be so first, not only in the presence of our pupils, but everywhere, for our pupils hear from others many things about us we never expect them to find out. If we speak lightly or in a fault-finding way of our school board, superintendent, other teachers, officers of the law, or parents, we are going to find this seed bringing forth mostly "an hundred fold." Once a pupil came to her teacher and reported a violation of a measure her superintendent had brought before her pupils that morning. She, evidently thinking it a small matter, or being herself out of sympathy with the measure, sent the pupil back (to report to the rest of her playmates), with the remark, "Oh, I guess he didn't mean all he said." Another teacher said to a pupil who complained that one of the teachers in the building had reproved her for misbehavior, "I guess I can manage my own pupils without any of her assistance." It is just such

teaching that breaks down proper respect for law and order. If our pupils find that we evade laws we should heed, they will go a bit farther; if we criticise others, they will soon feel at liberty to criticise each other, us, everyone who rules. over them. Of course, few laws and great firmness is always wisest. Pupils respect a teacher much more who insists on perfect and immediate obedience every time. There can be no vacation along this line. I believe in being gentle, but I haven't any place for the kind of gentleness that "can't bear to punish a child," or will excuse him "this once, but don't do it again, dearie." forty times over. Someone said, "Oh, that every time is sowearing!" To be sure it is, but everything in this old world of ours was made to "wear out, not rust out." I think we hardly appreciate how much more easily these things -every one of them-may be accomplished in a room made cheerful with books, pictures and plants, -all carefully selected, of course. These things cost money, effort, and often self-denial, as anything worth having always does, but they can be had at such low prices these days, and there are so many pleasant and simple ways of bringing money into the library fund now, that there is no excuse for failurealong this line. I am old-fashioned enough, too, to believe in talks, not long, dry lectures, but short, well-planned talks, right to

the point, being careful that 'our pupils understand every word we use on these occasions.

I believe, "Well begun is half done," and that no part of the program should be planned with greater care than the opening exercises. It should not be mere form. I find, when I stand at the door as the pupils enter, I can quiet with a look, a word or a touch, any attempt at disorder, and that by the time the last pupil is seated all will usually be in readiness for work, and, if not, a quiet wait of a moment or two without a word will be all

that is necessary. If this is persisted in day after day, much good will come of it. Then a song, suggestive of thankfulness and good cheer, a few well chosen words by a pupil or the teacher will put the pupils into the right

spirit for "speaking a moment with the loving Father," before beginning the duties of the day. After this the exercises should vary. We expect our pastor to give us something new each week; why have not our pupils a right to expect as much of us? We have often enjoyed a Bible story, descriptive of some person, place or event, given by one child, while the others listen and guess the correct answer; a short illustrated talk, or object lesson; an appropriate recitation, reading, or talk by a pupil-for pupils can often understand and come closer to each other in such talks and say more helpful things than the teacher can. This morning "quiet hour," as I like to call it, with our pupils may mean so much to both teacher and pupil if rightly arranged for.