That is, be whom you teach ?'- -Partly, because I know more.' cause you have been taught more,' said Mildred, which is a good thing for you, but none of your own gaining.' 'Partly, because I am older.'' That is, because you chance to have been born into the world some years sooner, and to have had more time for learning to serve God.' 'Well, perhaps a little because I am above them in rank? Anything else?'-'No, not that I know of. Well, it seems, by your own account then, that God has given to you three great advantages which He has not given to these children: the first you may share with them; the second they are gaining every year; and the third-well, I do not know if that is an advantage in a religious point of view, yet it affords you greater opportunities of learning, and, perhaps, greater freedom from temptation, though I rather doubt this last. But I hardly think any of these things need create a feeling of superiority. Each child in the room may be beyond you perhaps, if its advantanges are taken into account as well as its acquirements.' 'I am sure it is very likely,' answered Elinor, and even then they need not be very good.' 'No; for poor children are exposed to fearful temptations in their homes, from infancy, too often. But you have seen a generous child run to share its cake or playthings with one less fortunate; finding a greater delight in them for the other's sake, than for his own. Something of this feeling I think there should be. think, to identify one's-self with the walking in the same road with them? same temptations; surrounded, like them, with the same dangers; have not all the same end to aim at? Their spiritual enemies are yours-their Father and Lord is yours. What difference is there, but that you being gifted with more knowledge have more responsibility; that you, being a little before them on the way, are bidden to help them on with you. Are you any more certain than they of at least reaching safely your journey's end? And if you do, will it not be by means of the same aids which they also need? In short, what material difference is between one and another but that of differing wills? And you, if your will is right, have to train theirs to follow it. Do you now see what I mean by identifying yourself with those you teach? You are all learners together.' 'Yes, I see that it might be possible to feel so in time,' said Elinor, thoughtfully. But yet this is not all,' Mildred continued, 'it seems to me that the teacher's other feeling should be that of inferiority.' 'Dear And then one should try, I children. Thus, are you not Are you not beset with the Mildred' exclaimed Elinor, inferiority!' 'Yes, dear, but in a particular sense. You ARE God's servant, working for Him, doing the task He has set you; and that task is to wait on, to minister to, His little ones, to serve them, in plain words. If Christ Himself came not to be ministered unto, but to minister,-if He was among us as one that serveth,-how shall the servant be above his lord, or the disciple above his Master? Is it not a glorious thing to think of, that even we, weak silly women, may in our degree share in the ministering office committed by our God to His angels, who ever serve and wait on His little children, and to His priests on earth? Do you think it would be possible so to dwell on this thought as to realise the idea that we are serving, waiting on those whom we are set to teach?' 'Yes, that, too, might be possible,' assented Elinor, but still, to my mind, the mere fact of teaching implies superiority. You have, perhaps, sometimes lost your way in the country, and have called upon some little ragged urchin to guide you whither you want to go. Did you feel that that little boy was your superior?' Elinor laughed. 'No; but that is so different.' 'How so he possessed knowledge which you wanted, and upon your request he imparted it to you. Is not this what you think makes you superior to your children?' 'I don't know how to answer you, most provoking Mildred, but I don't believe you are right.' 'Well, let that drop for the present, then. And now, what have you further to say against my views?' 'I do not exactly know yet; I must have time to think over them.' 'Perhaps,' said Mildred, 'we are only differing about terms: if you mean that the teacher must have authority over the taught, I agree with all my heart.' Yes, I do mean that; but does not authority imply superiority?' 'Of position, yes I suppose so.' 'Yet you said just now, that the teacher should feel in an inferior position to those whom he was teaching.' Mildred laughed. 'I see I am contradicting myself in words, but I know what I mean. It is difficult to find terms sufficiently definite and precise. But as well as I can put it in words, I mean this the teacher should feel that he is actually in an inferior condition, as ministering to, serving, waiting on; but he should feel at the same time that he is placed in a superior position to guide, and, for the time, govern. Do you think the two feelings are incompatible? Pray, don't think I want to subvert order by destroying authority. I am for ABSOLUTE authority, IMPLICIT obedience. But it seems to me that it would be better if the one in authority could feel that he actually is not superior. It is so difficult to tell how much of mere pride there may be in allowing this feeling. I do not mean, of course, that it is pride in all cases, but I fear there must generally be a little mixture; and then that would hinder your teaching. How?' enquired Elinor. Because,' Mildred said in a low quiet voice, 'God resisteth the proud, while He gives grace to the humble. In the first case, we have God actually opposing us; in the second, we may say, "The Lord is on my side." After a short silence, Elinor said, 'I will tell you one thing which I think has been a reason of my bad success. When I began to teach I was full of the ideas which such books as the Lyra Innocentium and others teach, that all children are so pure, holy, spotless, undefiled, "fresh sprinkled with baptismal dew," and so on. Well, I found those whom I had to deal with, very often stupid, tiresome, positively disagreeable, and sometimes perverse and disobedient; I saw them quarrelling with one another, and inattentive and disrespectful to their superiors. So can you wonder that I was altogether disheartened, and that this feeling weakened my efforts, and made me feel as if it was of no use to try to do any good?' 'No, dearest, I do not wonder, yet I do not think that was the right effect to be produced on your mind. I think such things as you speak of must be said of very, very young children. And yet no-some do certainly refer to older ones, to such I suppose as have been guarded and kept from evil. But I will tell you how this teaching might act as a spur to you. Think of the descriptions in the Lyra, &c., as what children ought to be, what you have to try to raise them to. If their baptismal purity is soiled and dulled by sin, you may sorrow deeply, but let it only be a fresh inducement to spur you on to, if possible, bring them back to their right state. Bring them back,' murmured Mildred, as to herself, while again her cheeks flushed with sudden excitement. What is it? What do you mean?' enquired Elinor anxiously. 'I am almost afraid to say the thoughts that rose just then in my mind, it is so awful, it seems so presumptuous. It was a thought of Him who came to seek and to save that which was lost—a thought of Him who went into the wilderness to recover the sheep which He had lost. And I thought, can it be possible that such as we, weak and unworthy, should be called by Him to go after Him, should be used as His instrument to disentangle any of His stray lambs from the brambles and thickets? Blessed we, if so the sharp thorns pierce us, if we may shed but one drop of blood, feel but one smart in doing His work ! ، Yes, Mildred, if one could realise such thoughts, they should make what is now most distasteful, our highest joy-but I am too cold, too dead-hearted to feel as you do ;' and Elinor sighed heavily. You must not sorrow for that, my own, or I have, as I said once before, only done you a mischief: such feelings would perhaps do you more harm than good. I know they are sometimes harmful, but I am prone to give way to them from mere bodily weakness. However, such strong feeling is usually followed, in me, by apathy and dulness-and what seemed so exciting becomes so uninteresting that I can scarcely force myself to it. No, dearest, I believe a quiet, sober, stedfast will is far better than all the enthusiasm in the world. And if the inclination does rise up rebelliously at times, or hang back obstinately, the will may go on its way disregarding perverse inclination, and thwarting it. You may go on, perhaps, more pleasantly when your inclination yields to your will, but I doubt if to go on in spite of inclination be not the safer course.' One thing more, Mildred dear,' said Elinor after a silence, if I could have this strong will and right motive and all the rest of it, should I succeed in gaining my end?' Most certainly,' answered her friend, infallibly. But stay-what do you mean by gaining your end?”(Shall I succeed in training those I teach to serve God?" Oh, Elinor dearest, is that your final end?' Mildred exclaimed, looking at her. Elinor did not reply immediately. 'I thought that to please God by doing His will heartily, was to be the ultimate end. Your success with the children you must leave in His hands.' 'But I might at least hope to do much for the children?' said Elinor, doubtingly. Hope always, even against hope ; but if you look for too great results, you will assuredly be disappointed and disheartened. I seem to speak harshly, but, Elinor dearest, you know those awful words of our merciful Saviour, many called, but few chosen.' Elinor almost cried. Now, Mildred, you have undone all; how can I teach heartily thinking this?' If you say so, Elinor, you must have been trusting to your own power and strength, not to God. You must feel your own utter helplessness.' ، Mildred ! you are again completely contradicting yourself; you have been filling me all this time with notions of my power, and now you tell me I am utterly helpless. Again, I believe it is a contradiction rather in words than in meaning,' Mildred replied; I will try to explain myself clearly. You have full power to chuse whether you will serve God in any and every single act of your life-and, if you will heartily to 6 do it you will have power also, but remember, my own Elinor, always remember, that 'our sufficiency is of God,' for He 'worketh in us both to will and to do of His good pleasure.' 'But you cannot will for another person; you may strive vehemently, pray earnestly, work with all your strength, all your will, but no man may deliver his brother, nor make agreement unto God for Him. For it cost more to redeem their souls, so that he must let that alone for ever. Yea, though he live long and see not the grave.' While you are responsible, as being a free agent, for every act of your own, you cannot order the will of any other, after you have done your utmost, strained every nerve; you must acknowledge that you are powerless. If the well-doing of others is your ultimate end, you must be disappointed in many cases; but, with that for your primary object, if to please God, be your real end, be certain of succeeding.' 'Now, I will leave you,' said Elinor, bending over her: 'how worn and tired you look, you should not have talked so much.' up, I suppose, said Mildred with a faint smile; think I ought to be quiet. So good-bye dearest. if you can.' . 'My will kept me but now, really, I Come to-morrow, SABBATH AND SUNDAY. PART II. Is a former paper it was argued at some length that the obligation of the Jewish Sabbath ceased and determined with the Jewish Economy. We may now consider the objections with which this inference has been opposed. And these may be reduced to three, represented respectively by the following texts: Gen ii. 3, which is supposed to prove that the Sabbath is as old as the Creation; Exod. xx. 9—11, which is supposed to prove that the Sabbath is a part of universal morality; Isa. Ixvi. 23, which is supposed to prove that the Sabbath would, in point of fact, be protracted into Christian times. Reserving for full discussion by itself the objection drawn from the Fourth Commandment, I shall occupy myself at present with a notice of the others. I. It is said that the Sabbath was coeval with the Creation. |