the eye, and we have not entirely shaken off the remainder of the feeling that anything pleasant or attractive about our places of worship is, if not ungodly, at least wholly superfluous. But does not the great Father of all deck His world with beauty incalculable, unmeasured? poured forth with lavish abundance in the solitary places where there is no eye to see the wealth of tender colour He has spilt on the bells of the foxglove, the very leaves of the bramble; no ear to drink in the glad carolling of the birds. Nature cannot see a bare wall without trying to soften its ugliness. She tones it down by tender tints of moss and lichen, and hangs in its crevices the delicate fern and feathery grass. Surely God's teaching in the universe is that beauty is good, and in the spots where man has encroached the least, there it is in richest abundance. Why, then, should we entertain a confused notion that there is something religious in plainness and bareness of structure? Where do we find the idea? Certainly not in the handiwork of our Creator; certainly not in the words of His Son, for there is much in the teaching of Jesus to show that He ever had a keen eye for the beauty of the world. The gay tints of the flowers did not escape His notice, and He loved the solitary places by the lake side, where the carpet was bright beneath His feet with blossoms of radiant hue, and the groves were alive with birds of brilliant plumage. If, therefore, beauty of surroundings be God's work where His creation has not been interfered with, we may be sure it has a moral purpose. Other things being equal, it is better for people to have that which is around them pleasant to the eye, than to have it plain and ugly. There are many signs that the people in England are coming to understand this, and if any of you have read Mr. Morris's

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'Lectures on Art," you will remember in what clear and beautiful language he puts it forth.

I know a Mission Room in one of the lowest parts of London, among miserable cottages, in a dull, narrow, dismal street. You ascend the wooden staircase that leads to it, and lo and behold! you seem transported into another world. For along the walls are panels beautifully painted with scenes from Scripture. These are no cheap coloured daubs, but works of art. At the opposite side of the room, between the windows, exquisite flowers seem to flourish on the walls. These are mainly the work of Students of a School of Art, who have cheerfully and voluntarily painted their best for the poor, and unless you were to see it, you could not imagine what a marvellous difference the decoration makes to the plain, bare, upper room. In the delight it gives, aye, and the good it does, to the poor of the neighbourhood, young and old, who gather in the Mission Hall for meetings, night schools, and what not, it has been worth tenfold the trouble and time expended upon it.

The application of all this to our Sunday Schools is obvious. I am not saying for a moment that you can find students from schools of art to paint the walls. I wish you could; but I do say this—make the interior of your school as beautiful as you can. Don't let it be a mere whitewashed barn, with dusty windows, dingy, battered, grimy furniture, and perhaps a great heap of unused or rickety forms piled up in a corner, or filling the background with a mass of ugliness. It is wonderful how much can be done by a little care and attention to details. Let the windows be kept bright, the floor be scrubbed, and the furniture treated as far as possible with care. Have abundance of fresh air and light. Let texts of Scripture or prints, as fair and

artistically good as you can have them, adorn the walls, encourage the children to bring flowers, and let the Superintendent's desk be bright and sweet with them, placed in water that they may not quickly fade. Other details will suggest themselves to individuals, but we may sum it all up in this way. Do not think that, because it is a Sunday School, and the children are rough, any wretched appointments will do. Let the scholars feel, as they enter, that they are coming to a pleasant, orderly, comfortable, pretty home, not a miserable barn, and you will reap the advantage in gentler manners, increased attention, greater love for the school. It is no part of my purpose to claim for beauty of surroundings a higher work than it can really accomplish, but I maintain that, quite unconsciously, it soothes, relieves, and educates the mind, and prepares it to receive teaching.

II. THE ATMOSPHERE SHOULD BE ONE OF CHRISTIAN EQUALITY.

In the world there are, and we suppose always will be, grades of society. Many causes that we need not stay to indicate create these differences, and though, as time rolls on and education and culture spread, they will, we hope, become less marked and multiform, some such separation will always exist. But in our Churches and Sunday Schools let these differences disappear. It would be well if they disappeared more in the world without in this, our little world, where we can do as we like, let them be ignored. "One is our Master, even Christ, and we are all brethren." Whether a man's clothes have come from Bond Street or from an obscure village tailor; whether a dress fits like a glove and is a masterpiece of art, or whether it be dowdy

and plain, these things should make no difference. It will be good for the scholars to see this disregard of fine clothing, of rank and station, in the presence of the Master whom the teachers are all striving to serve. Children are quick observers and will reproduce what they see; hence, if a teacher of humble station is obviously made inferior to her richer colleagues, the poor shabbily-dressed child whose widowed mother cannot afford a new dress or a bunch of flowers for her hat will reap the result of the lesson in the sneers and scorn of her gayer companions. Strive, as far as possible in this little world, to inculcate the idea that worth, not money, is the standard by which men and children should be judged.

Again, let not education create inequality. Whether a teacher speak in so uncultured a manner that the h's might be swept up after him, or whether his words are unconsciously well chosen and fairly spoken, let there be equality. Let him be judged not by his defective education, which probably he could not help, but by his earnestness and zeal, which others may with advantage emulate. Or if his manners have not the caste of Vere de Vere, and his carriage shows not the repose that comes of culture and good breeding; if his voice is hard, loud, and rough instead of being soft, low, and refined; if his gestures are uncouth and ungainly instead of being graceful with quiet dignity under all circumstances, still let this make no difference-let him be judged not by these extraneous circumstances, but by his soulhis efforts for a higher life.

We would plead earnestly for this, for such distinctions among the teachers will extend to the scholars; distrust, dissatisfaction, scorn, all these will find their place, and the atmosphere will become charged with social poison. The

feelings of the world, with all their hateful emulation, will intrude into the school, and usefulness will quickly depart. Let then, I pray you, be in all our schools an atmosphere of Christian equality.

III. THE ATMOSPHERE SHOULD BE FULL OF REVERENCE.

I have often been struck in going through Sunday Schools, in observing how little of this reverence is shown by the scholars. But surely it lies at the root of the whole matter. We meet together to worship, to teach, to learn, and on the most important subject that can occupy the human mind. When the theme is sublime, why is there this lack of veneration? The fault in many cases is our own, rather than that of our scholars. The atmosphere is not charged with reverence.

When we enter our Schools, do our countenances wear a cheerful but still a reverent look? When we take our places in the class, do we begin by prayer, thus hallowing all we do? Do our scholars see that in all the services of the School we devoutly join, and is our manner serious without being gloomy?

If a teacher bustles in at the last moment with a hurried, fussy look, then, during prayer, stares expectantly round to seize upon the first offender who, like himself, has open eyes, whispering frowning remonstrances, his class is not likely to be impressed with a reverent spirit. "Example is better than precept" may be a very old proverb, but is peculiarly applicable to the point under discussion.

Flippant joking over the lesson, on any ground, should be avoided. All attention should be given to the work in hand, and if the teachers show propriety of demeanour, the scholars will be more likely to do so also. Without reverence