school, so that they might place themselves in a position of respectability, and secure the welfare of their own souls. He would not speak to Sunday-school teachers only, but would address those who were engaged as daily teachers. The last few years had made great changes in this department of our educational system, and there was now growing up a great demand for pupil teachers of both sexes. There is at times some danger in choosing parties for this position, as they might not always be proven for the work which is expected of them; but it was hoped that this danger would be got over, as we had around us now normal schools, and other institutions for the purpose of training pupil teachers. The work of a pupil teacher ought not to be looked upon, as is often the case, merely in a secular light. It is not merely religious instruction that they are required to teach-they are required to give moral instruction as well; as it is not religion, or instruction in real religion, to teach children to repeat the catechism. It is not real religion to read from the Bible, or repeat passages by rote in the life of our Lord. For him to use such language might sound to those present as very sacrilegious. The pupil teachers, who are instructing the young entrusted to their care, ought to be taught to do so with a feeling of some deep impression attached to them. It is not teaching those under them to state the passages of scripture, or to point out on the map where Palestine is situated, and where is Jerusalem and other places in geography, and common facts in connection with our Lord. All these things are of no good-of no avail, if the pupil teacher have not the power of speaking so as to win the confidence and touch the feelings and sympathy of the child, and so impress upon the heart of the pupil all that it is being taught, so that, as it grows older, it may know how to fear and love the Lord. The pupil teachers ought to have impressed upon them the power they have in office as servants of Christ. An office to instruct to do well, to teach religious good to children. They were told by some people, that in spite of all the education going on, there was not less crime, not less drunkenness, and that murder was not prevented by it. He for one did not but believe that education had greatly sobered the mass and diminished a great number of evils. Education was not dear to all human nature, as human nature at times struck out its share for itself. Education was not, he thought, properly imparted, if an earnest and religious tone was not given to it. He could not help saying that this is the use to which pupil teachers should train their spirits, and he thought if such was the case they would find objections now standing in the way yearly disappear. Besides our pupil and Sunday-school teachers, he would ask the parents to come and help them. He knew of no greater responsibility than a parent had-in fact it was a responsibility direct from his God. A mother and father who have a child given to them have a charge direct by God himself. No sophistry could shake his statement on this point. Each alike had their responsibility, whether of the upper, middle, or poorer class. The roughest man amongst them was possessed of an equal amount of love, and had as tender a heart for his children as could be found in the most refined classes, The duty of a parent was to see to the education of those children who had been sent to their charge, to give them good advice, and see and watch them with every care. He was afraid that all parents did not stand true to their charge. He would impress upon them that, after all, good advice was not so beneficial as setting them a good example, and guarding themselves in their ways and habits whilst in the presence of their little ones. He considered that at times their example did not tend to lead their children in a way to live properly. Many thought that by merely sending their children to school they acted properly. Many have a difficulty in getting their living, and must be out earning it, and in so doing are forced to leave their children, and therefore they do not see much of them; but he thought they would agree with him that God had given them a time to be with their children for once in every week. A seventh portion of their time had been given to them to spend with their children and to give them advice. He should like to see a church in every household on that day. What a blessed thing it would be to them if their time was to be spent thus. They, he was well aware, had all their toils and troubles to contend with. Darkness follows the light, and so again in turn the light follows the dark, during which period we have been enabled to rest from our earthly toils. In like manner has God given you the seventh day on which to rest from earthly toil, and to refresh yourselves by religious exercises, to be able to go on for another week. The Right Rev. Prelate dwelt at some further length, exhorting parents to look after the eternal welfare of their children as well as their own. THE WEAVER'S SHUTTLE. AN ADDRESS TO THE YOUNG. By the Rev. ADAM BTYYH, GIRVAN. WEAVING is a very ancient employment. It is said to have been invented by one of the Empresses of China, some three or four thousand years ago. But be this as it may, we know it was an art with which Eastern lands were familiar at a very early period in the world's history. It was a well-known trade in the days of the patriarch Job, for we hear him saying, "My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle." (Job, vii. 6.) There are many views of the life of man in which the appropriateness and expressiveness of the figure here employed will appear abundantly evident. Let us name one or two. Is the shuttle very rapid in its movements? As quick, yea, quicker still, my young friends, is the progress of human life. Our hours and moments flee away with the swiftness of an eagle towards heaven. With an almost inconceivable rapidity do the wheels of time perform their accustomed revolutions. Not a rising sun, not a passing hour, but beholds us with increasing haste posting onwards to our final destiny. How solemn the thought, that it is indeed with something like lightning speed that we are all, young and old, being borne away to the darkness of the tomb! "Swiftly thus our fleeting days Bear us down life's rapid stream; Is the thread very brittle which the shuttle contains? So is it with the life of man. Our life hangs upon a very slender thread, and at any moment that thread may be broken; yea, when least expected, it may suddenly snap asunder. There is no certainty for the continued existence, even for another hour, of any of earth's inhabitants. A thousand dangers continually surround us, any one of which may suddenly dissolve the connection that binds us to time, and usher us into the unseen and eternal world. Would that we all not only acknowledged, but felt this as we ought! Would that we lived under the constant remembrance that the messenger of death is ever standing at our door! "Life a field of battle is, Thousands fall within our view; And the next death-bolt that flies, May be sent to me or you." Does every successive stroke of the shuttle bring nearer and nearer the execution of the web? Even so with the life of man in this transient world. The work given us to do-as the period given us to live-is being surely though silently filled in and accomplished. The span of our earthly existence is every day contracting within narrower limits. The sand-glass of our life is gradually expending itself, and will ere long be fully run out. The little isthmus of time on which we now stand, is every moment being washed and wasted by the waves of eternity. If we are reminded of this solemn truth by every revolving season, how much more by every successive year! How loudly does the knell of the year, now gone for ever, pro claim that we are all fulfilling as an hireling our days, and that we shall soon exchange our present homes for the shroud, the coffin, and the habitations of the dead! ،، Life is short, and time is fleeting, And our hearts, though strong and brave, Funeral marches to the grave." Does the shuttle cease to ply, when the web has been fully woven? In like manner, when the great web of human life has been wrought by us, we too, individually, will be "cut off" and removed. When every breath which makes up the sum of our earthly existence has been inhaled-when our appointed time on earth has run its course-then our web will be completed our work here will have come to an end. Each one of us may then say in the words of Hezekiah, "I have cut off like a weaver my life." (Isaiah, xxxviii., 12.) We shall then bid a final adieu to all earth's relationships and employments, and take our departure for that world where all shall receive according to their deeds whether they have been good, or whether they have been evil. "Youth and vigour soon will flee, Blooming beauty lose its charms; Thus you see, my young friends, that in the important figurative sense now described, you are all weavers. Whoever you may be, you are all without exception, engaged from day to day in weaving the web of life-that web that began at your birth, and that will be completed at your death. Every throb of your heart is the swift action of the shuttle-every thought, word, and deed, the woof and the warp which go to make up the finished fabric. "My pulse is the clock of my life, It shows how my moments are flying, It marks the departure of time, And tells me how fast I am dying." What a deep solemnity should pervade our minds, when we meditate on these things! What an inexpressible importance should they throw around every hour you spend, every action you perform, and every scene in which you mingle! What if this year prove your last? It will be so for certain to thousands, yea, hundreds of thousands, in this land; and, God alone can tell, it may be so to you among the number. Again then, we ask, what if during this year you be gathered to the congregation of the dead? O live as if you knew that this year you must die! Let its rolling days, and weeks, and months, be marked by confiding trust in a Redeemer's blessed work, and by active, grateful service to advance his kingdom! O let nothing be written concerning you on the tablets of heaven now that you would be ashamed to hear read aloud on the day of judgment ! "I asked an aged man, a man of years, Wrinkled, and curved, and white with hoary hairs. Time is the warp of life,' he said, 'Oh tell The young, the fair, the gay to weave it well.' I asked a spirit lost, and O, the shriek That pierced my soul! I shudder while I speak; British Messenger. THE PRAYERLESS FATHER. AT a prayer-meeting in Boston, the case of a girl of twelve years was reported, who went to a Sunday school a few weeks, and then was taken sick. Her physician informed her intemperate father that his daughter must die. He went to her bedside and told her that she must die. She "Yes; answered, "I am going home." Going home?" said the father. Will you my teacher has taught me the way to heaven, that is my home. pray?" The father said that he could not pray. She told him to kneel down and she would pray. He followed her, and before he rose from his knees he had found mercy, and the spirit of his daughter had gone home. Since that time the whole family have been brought into the kingdom. This whole family was saved by a Sunday school teacher giving instruction a few weeks to a girl twelve years old. A LEAF FROM A SUNDAY SCHOOL TEACHER'S NOTE BOOK. Ir was a cold dreary day, the wind was sighing dismally along the streets, and the snow was falling in thick heavy flakes. The streets were deserted except by some occasional passer-by, for it was the Sabbath; and though December had not invested it with an external peace congenial with that which characterises it internally, still, in the closed shops, and the cessation of the usual busy traffic, there was that which proclaimed the Day of Rest. I was sitting before a warm fire in my comfortable apartment when the hour for the Sunday school approached. I arose and looked from the window on the bleak prospect without, feeling unwilling to exchange the comfort of my room for the rude severity of the winter. But remembering the example of Him who went about continually doing good, and whose follower I professed to be; and thinking also of the eager little band who would soon be awaiting my arrival in the school-room, the desire to escape from duty was at once subdued. The school room was situated in a suburb of the large commercial town of G. The boys and girls who formed the school belonged to the humbler classes, and most of them were employed in the neighbouring factories; several who had thus to labour for their daily bread being yet of tender years. A few were ignorant, and could only read with difficulty; but others were very intelligent, and had diligently improved their opportunities for acquiring knowledge. The entire class were assembled. The opening prayer and praise had been offered when I heard a gentle knock at the door. On opening it, I saw a little boy standing without, shrinking from the cold. "Please, Sir, may I come in?" he asked. "Yes, my dear boy," I replied, "you may, and I am very glad to see you." I took his hand, and led him to a seat. He was poorly clad, but was neat and clean. His face was thin and pale, but his eyes were large and bright, and he had a quick intelligent expression that arrested my attention. The lesson for the evening was the death of Christ, and I was pleased to observe the boy's grave attention. He read distinctly and well, and also, with a little hesitation, answered some questions; his hesitation apparently arising, not from inability, but from diffidence. I purposed speaking to him at the close of the exercises, but he withdrew quickly ere my intention could be fulfilled. During the week he was often in my thoughts, and I felt curious as to whether he would again join us on the following Sabbath. To my joy he did so. I took occasion to intimate my wish to speak with him when the school was dismissed, and he accordingly remained at the close. His name, I found, was Joseph. His simple but affecting history I learned on subsequent occasions. His father and mother both died while he was yet an infant, and he was left to the care of his paternal grandfather, an old man, who had been a soldier. Joseph's grandfather was poor, but having been careful while in the army, he had amassed a little money, which, with his pension, kept him above |