have really lost all faith and hope in any child, and in your power to benefit it, then for your own sake, for the child's sake, yea, for the sake of all good, pass that child over to the care of another; it will get no benefit from you.

Perhaps the most trying child to day-school teachers, nowadays, are those who do not receive that which they teach; who are about as wise when the lesson ends as they were before it began, only not quite so comfortable.

Now this class may consist of the inattentive, the idle, or the naturally dull.

A child is always occupied with something; if its mind is not on the subject you are putting before it, it is busy over something else. And generally that something else is presented to them by their outward senses-their sight, for instance. They see something going on which distracts their thoughts, sends them wool-gathering to places and with people in no way connected with the lesson, so they lose what they ought to gain.

Now it is the teacher's place to remove, as far as possible, all such distractions; their eyes should take in the whole class; no movement or pursuit apart from the subject in hand should be permitted. I have seen teachers stand before classes teaching, who have reminded me of those guides who show people over our cathedrals of the town. They have a certain amount to say, and they say it; if people don't listen, it's not their fault. Some children, finding no interest in the lesson, began to amuse themselves, some to amuse others; they were all busy about something, not even looking at the teacher, while the different heads of the lesson were discussed one after another, with great perseverance, by the teacher.

But this was a stranger teacher. If you do your work well, and if there is the right bond between you and the children, they will always know you have something ready for them that it is worth their while to attend to. It is quite possible for a teacher's manner to command at

tention at first, and to hold and chain it after

?

wards all through the lesson. Is it so with you Remember the children are hungry little beings after knowledge; if you give them strong meat instead of milk, is it their fault if they reject it?

Look well to this. Say, "Other people can get my class to listen and attend; so will I.” Prepare your lesson carefully. Make sure you quite understand just how much knowledge you wish to impart at this particular time. Remove all outside impediments to attention. Awaken and interest your children, and keep them awakened and interested.

But we said, children do not receive our teaching from idleness. There are some easy-going, merry-hearted darlings, who quite believe it's a pity to bother about anything. They are generally smiling, and rosy, and plump; and though they do the least work, they certainly are not deficient in the matter of play. The energy they

can manifest only makes the

contrast greater

when you consider the small amount they do manifest to meet your wishes.

It would be cruel to punish these children. They are just the ones who will learn to hate the things that bring them trouble and suffering. You want them to love their lessons. You must not punish them then. Make it to their interest to rouse themselves, not by misery, but by the desire to please you. They love you; let them know how much pleasure you feel when they work nicely. It is a good thing that these children are most susceptible of praise. Watch for chances to give them a little. If you cannot praise all their production, praise the best part of it, and wind up by saying, "Don't you think you could manage to do the whole as nicely or as correctly as you did this? Try, will you?" Lead them on like this, and they will soon work for love of you, if for nothing else.

And then the dull children, poor things.

Well, they are a trial in week-day schools,

because of the mistaken system of giving them just as much work to do in a year as the clever ones. So teachers feel they have to drive them.

Find out if a child is really deficient in natural ability; if so, don't worry them and yourself by attempting impossibilities. Let them go on steadily and slowly. All the pushing in the world won't keep them abreast of those more talented.

If they are to do any good they must have time. Do not get impatient with such children. In almost every case they would learn quickly if they could. Nay, is it not painful to witness their effort to receive what you desire to impart to them? And the very greatness of that effort only adds to their mystification. Perhaps now and then we may feel justified if we lose our patience over those who won't learn; we must lose our patience over those who can't learn-NEVER. The very brightness of our own minds should make us be