their letters; to teach them to form habits of patience, humility, and the obedience resulting from affection. And to teach these well, assuredly requires example as well as precept. Can it be supposed that teachers so young and inexperienced possess such qualifications as patience, humility, and an even temper; and a plain simple and tender manner of expression?

In Sunday School instruction as much depends upon the manner of inculcating a principle, or teaching a lesson, as upon the lesson or principle itself; the younger a child is, the more apt is he to imitate and, although he may not have understanding sufficient to comprehend what a teacher says, he can easily see how it is said, and can copy both the look, and the action that accompanied the command. In the presence of children, no carelesness of demeanour, no fretfulness, no impatience, no harshness of language should be shown, for it will certainly be imitated. Teachers are too apt to be impatient when their scholars do not improve so fast as they wish; let them remember that the folly and inattention of the child, and the carelesness and indifference of the parent, will often conspire to delay this improvement, and great allowances must be made. In a word, the youngest require the most experienced teachers; how injudicious then to trust those who most need care and attention to those who are least qualified to give them.

Should one teacher have under his charge thirty children, from two to five years of age, they would receive more real benefit than if they were divided into five sections, and each section were under the care of an inexperienced lad, whose only design is to make an injudicious use of the brief authority he possesses.

The first difficulty likely to occur in Sunday Schools, particularly in those for boys, arises from disputing the moment they enter the school concerning their places in the class, and in quarreling about hanging up their hats. This difficulty can be entirely removed by assigning a particular seat to each boy when he joins the school, and never allowing any other boy to occupy it, whether the one to whom it was given be present or absent. II.

(To be continued.)

[To the Editor of the American S. S. Teacher's Magazine.]

"I, Wisdom, dwell with Prudence."

New-York, January 20, 1824.

SIR,-IN one of our Sunday Schools a youth, whom I shall call Benevolus, from the motives that prompted him to engage in the work, had taken charge of a class of boys.

The truly philanthropic desire of being useful to his fellow man; the wish to communicate religious instruction, and the hope that he might be the means of imparting to them the one thing needful, together with a prospect of some success, stimulated him to use every exertion.

Highly gratified with the objects in view, he commenced his pleasing employment. At first the children listened attentively to his instructions, obeyed his commands without a murmur, and maintained, during the hour of prayer, a profound silence.

The school had been in operation but one Sunday, before Benevolus. became a teacher: the curiosity natural to children had made them attentive, and the diffidence, or rather fear arising from being unaccustomed to a Sunday School, had kept them silent. As he looked round on this interesting scene with delight and admiration, he could but say to himself, if such be the conduct of these boys now, how well will they behave when they shall have been a year, or even a month, under our fostering care; let them behave in this manner, and my duty will be pleasure-my labour amusement. The time allotted for instruction passed unheeded away, so much was he taken up with the exercises of his class.

The curiosity of the boys, however, was soon satisfied, and a few Sundays made them familiar with the school, the teachers, and each other. Two of the boys in the class taught by Benevolus attended a Free School during the week, and the difference between the severe discipline of a Lancasterian School and the mild and tender measures of a Sabbath School institution had not escaped their observation. They were accustomed to obey commands through fear of punishment: crime in their

eyes consisted not in the commission, but in the detection; to embrace every opportunity of doing mischief secretly had become a habit. These boys began, by playing with each other, to disturb the class; it soon ended in quarreling; and, although they obeyed the command of the teacher to be silent, still it could plainly be seen that fear, and not love, caused their obedience.

One of these boys being of a morose and surly disposition did not rise when it was his turn to read. Benevolus mildly requested him to rise as the rest had done and read his verses; the boy retained his seat, shook his head very ominously, and looked as saucily as possible in his face, which gave strong intimation of continuing in the same position as long as he thought fit. An example of disobedience like this would be productive of the most pernicious consequences. Benevolus therefore was determined to make him obey, if possible. He sternly said to the boy, rise this instant, or I will make you. The boy answered, no, I wont! As it was not in the power of the teacher to make him stand, although he might take him up, Benevolus changed the threat into one which he could enforce, namely, If you do not stand I will take you out of school." I believe he said, "turn you out of school;" and when I leave the school I shall certainly acquaint your parents of your wilful and wicked conduct." The boy, no doubt, would have run out of school the moment before, but when he heard the threat of putting him out by force, he instinctively caught hold of the bench on which he was sitting, and to take him out without hurting him was no easy task.

It occasioned much disturbance, and drew all eyes upon poor Benevolus, who felt, as you may well suppose, much mortified on the occasion. Shame on account of the disturbance he had caused, vexation on account of the opposition he had met with from a child, and disappointment at being unable to succeed with him, almost destroyed all his zeal for Sunday Schools, and all hope of succsss. He had erred-he knew it; want of experience was the cause; he thus questioned himself-Should I have handed the boy over to the superintendant? Was I right

in turning the boy out of school? I had said, you must read, or I will send you home? Surely I should keep my word? What is my plan to be pursued now? I will go and complain to his parents; it is all their fault, they do not know how to govern a child. If I had him a month I would make something of him. Should I ever have a like case I shall be a little more cautious what I say, and not tell a boy I will make him do any thing, un

less I am very certain I can. And I will never turn a boy out

of school again for fear he might not come back; and such boys ought not to be allowed to run at large uutil they are a little tamed by Sunday School instruction.

He came to this conclusion: He had spoken without reflection, and acted rashly, and had been imprudent in not making the superintendant acquainted with the circumstances. He would profit by this experience, although it was bought with so much disturbance; he also determined to go to the parents' house after church, represent the conduct of the boy, and give them some advice about the government of one who had given him so much trouble.

The conversation between the parents and the teacher, and the result of the visit, will be given in the next number.

[To the Editor of the American S. S. Teacher's Magazine.]

New-York, January 21, 1824.

SIR,-About eighteen months ago a Sunday School was established in the upper part of this city, in a church adjoining the house in which I reside: since that time, whenever the weather has been unfavourable, I have spent my Sabbath in the school, instead of attending my own Church, which is at some distance from home.

The last Sunday I visited the school I observed a class of boys without a teacher; this class had often attracted my attention by their silence, order, and good behaviour. I inquired of the superintendant if the person who had charge of that class was

unwell, as the exercise of the school had been commenced. No, replied he; it grieves me to say that the young gentleman who teaches that class is not very punctual. It does not arise from indolence or indifference, but merely from want of thought; he does not consider how necessary it is that the teacher should set an example of punctuality to the boys, if he wishes they should improve. Neither does he reflect that by absenting himself he increases my duty, and I have more labour, as superintendent, than I can well perform without being burthened with that of teacher also. When he, or any other teacher stays one moment after the school has commenced he adds his task to mine, as it always requires some arrangement to be made that the class may be instructed, it being contrary to our regulations to permit any to remain an hour in school without instruction. A class of boys will never pay as much attention to a casual teacher as they will to their own; and most of the noise in a school begins in classes that have no teacher.-Perhaps, said I, if I were to take care of the class until he comes it may be of more service to him than a verbal reproof. In a few moments after I went to the class be came, when he saw me he blushed, whether from pique, shame or mortification I cannot say, he began immediately to instruct the class, and as far as I could judge he appeared amply qualified for the task; but the time was too short for any real good to be derived by the class, and I question if the injury the boys receive from the bad example, and from being left half an hour every Sunday without a teacher be counteracted by the little good instruction he may have imparted : the time is one hour and a half, and to waste one moment is a crying sin. I left the school admiring the talents of the teacher, and regretting that he did not pay a little more attention to the advice of one of the wisest of men. "Whatsoever thy hand

findeth to do, do it with thy might."

VOL. I.

10

I am, &c.

R.