each young Samuel into the temple of revealed truth, that he may be divinely taught and tutored there.

We sometimes hear it said, "We want more doctrinal teaching-let us hear clear statements of doctrine in our Sunday school classes." And recently a cry has arisen in some quarters," Give us back our catechisms!" It is worth while endeavouring to ascertain the motives for the demand thus made. I believe the grounds generally urged may be expressed somewhat as follows:-" Our scholars, now-a-days, are unable to answer questions which their predecessors, half a century ago, could generally reply to with the greatest ease. We do not find the same clear and definite views of the way of salvation which our teachers used to impart to us. We trace this chiefly to the disuse of catechisms."

There is something of truth, but much more of plausibility, if I mistake not, in this line of criticism. I do not deny that the charge against our scholars is to some extent well founded. The views of religious truth held by many of the young people in our schools are undoubtedly hazy and undefined. This is partly a characteristic of immaturity of age and intellect; but it must also in part be attributed to defective instruction. Our objecting friends would remedy this evil by what they term more "doctrinal teaching."

Were I to ask for a sample of doctrinal teaching, I should, I dare say, be pointed to the fifth and eighth chapters of the Epistle to the Romans. If so, the method proposed (whether sanctioned by the practice of former days or not) seems not to be God's method. He has seen fit to embody the chief doctrines of revelation in history and historic narratives. The most unhistoric portions of Scripture the Epistles— are the most advanced, and are designed, not for the instruction of children, but for the perfecting of the saints, the edifying of mature Christians. And as for catechisms, their formulæ, in proportion as they deviate from outward facts into mere abstractions, become more unsuited to the youthful mind. Here is the dilemma:-either the doctrines so much desiderated in the teaching are in the Bible, or not. If they are, then it has pleased the Author of Scripture to embody them chiefly in facts, and we are presuming to point out a more excellent way. If they are not, so much the worse for the catechisms, for those who teach, and for those who learn them.

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I would gladly submit the question, if it were possible, to an experimentum crucis. Let the advocate of catechisms (though the mere catechetical method has nothing to do with the matter) drill a child thoroughly in the answer to the question, What is repentance ?— 'Repentance unto life is a saving grace, whereby a sinner, out of a true sense of his sin and apprehension of the mercy of God in Christ, doth with grief and hatred of his sin turn from it unto God," &c.;—and give me the story of Zaccheus to teach to another scholar. I know not which would answer examination questions the more glibly, but I know which would be the more likely to understand and feel what true repentance really is.

The fact is, such formulæ are utterly delusive, substituting too often a knowledge of words for a grasp of truth, and it is notorious that some of the most conspicuous instances of gross ignorance in respect to religious truth will be found among children drilled with inexorable fidelity and regularity in the important and well-expressed, but by no means childlike answers of the Church Catechism; and because this doctrinal teaching is not adapted to the youthful mind, it wearies and repels it. How heartily many children hate the abstractions of the catechism as presented in dry, dogmatic preachments! True, a writer on education has contended that such catechisms may be made bewitchingly interesting, and I do not deny the possibility. But not one teacher in a thousand is capable of rendering them so. Nor are young children capable of receiving truth in an abstract form. It is the strong meat, while they require the milk of facts, objects, and incidents. Give us botany by all means, but give us flowers first-give us geology, but first let us handle rocks and stones for ourselves. And give us theology and theological formulæ, but not till we are of age to deduce and classify for ourselves. The senior class, and not the more juvenile divisions of the Sunday school, is the place where our manuals, handbooks, and, if you like, catechisms, can alone be used with advantage.

LITTLE CHILDREN.

THE Rev. Thomas Binney says of little children, "I am fond of children. I think them the poetry of the world, the fresh flowers of our hearts and homes; little conjurers, with their 'natural magic,' evoking by their spells what delights and enriches all ranks, and equalizes the different classes of society. Often as they bring with them anxieties and cares, and live to occasion sorrow and grief, we should get along very badly without them. Only think if there never were anything anywhere but grown-up men and women, how we should long for the sight of a little child! Every infant comes into the world like a delighted prophet, the harbinger and herald of good tidings, whose office it is 'to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children,' and to draw the disobedient to the wisdom of the just.' A child softens and purifies the heart, warming and melting it by its gentle presence; enriches the soul by new feelings, awakens in it what is favourable to virtue. It is a beam of light, a fountain of love, a teacher whose lessons few can resist. Infants recall us from much that endangers and encourages selfishness, that freezes the affections, roughens the manners, indurates the heart; they brighten the home, deepen love, invigorate exertion, infuse courage, and vivify and sustain the charities of life. It would be a miserable world, I do think, if it was not embellished by little children.”

Outline Lessons.

THE VINE AND THE BRANCHES.-John xv. 1-8.

THE teacher should first of all see what the scholars know about the vine and its mode of culture in Palestine. Much may be learned on this part of the subject by reference to such passages as the following:-Gen. xlix. 11 ; Numb. xiii. 23; Judg. ix. 27; Cant. ii. 15; Isa. v. 1-7; xvi. 10; Matt. xxi. 33, &c. It will be well to give these texts to the class on the Sunday previously, or to give the children some clue and ask them to find out and study them.

Of what use is the vine ? The rose tree bears beautiful flowers, the briar and myrtle have a fragrant smell, the sycamore gives a pleasant shade; the oak is useful for building ships, the mahogany and the fir tree for making chairs and tables; the bark of some trees is useful as medicine, and that of the cork tree makes stoppers for our bottles; but the vine is useful for only one thing-its fruit. Every one likes grapes-many a sick child can enjoy nothing else. But a vine which bore no grapes would be useless; nothing could be made from the wood, it could only be burnt.

Did you ever ask yourself why God made you? Why should there be one more boy or girl in the world? Can you be of any use to Him? Only if you bear fruit.

A gentleman who had a beautiful fruit-garden had also a very troublesome son. Harry was delighted to see all the trees loaded with fruit. "I am sorry," said his father, "that there is one tree that I have taken great pains with, and it bears no fruit at all." Harry was puzzled, but at last found out that he was the fruitless tree.

Ellen had a peach tree in her garden, and she watched it very anxiously, hoping for some fine ripe peaches to make a present to her mamma. The summer came, but no peaches. She told her Sunday school teacher of her disappointment. "I have been more disappointed than you, Ellen," said the teacher. "I have had a gardenful of peach trees, and they have borne beautiful blossoms too, and promised well, but I can't see one of them with any fruit." What do you think she meant ?

Once when Jesus was hungry he saw a fig tree covered with leaves, and expected to get some figs. How disappointed He was to find none at all! But He felt much greater disappointment when one day He stood looking at Jerusalem, and wept over the guilty city. For this was a vine that had been carefully tended, and yet it only brought forth wild grapes (Isa. v. 2).

How delightful to a parent or Christian teacher to meet with fruitful branches! "I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth" (3 John 4).

Sweet it is to gather fruit in the garden of the Lord. Sometimes Jesus tasted such fruit. When the woman of Samaria believed in Him, when Peter confessed Him, when Zaccheus received Him joyfully, when John was leaning on His breast, or Mary sitting at His feet, or when the penitent woman was washing

His feet with tears, and anointing them with her alabaster box of ointment, could there be sweeter fruits than these? And have we any such fruits to offer, fruits of faith and obedience and love? Help us, Lord, to bear much fruit, so that we may be able to say, "Let my beloved come into His garden, and eat His pleasant fruits" (Cant. iv. 16).

(It might not be out of place here to have a few words of prayer with the class before proceeding.)

Can any of you tell what produces the ripe grapes? Jesus once turned water into wine, and we call it a miracle, but the same divine hand every summer changes the rain that falls on the earth into the luscious grape-juice. How this is done we cannot tell. But we know there is something which all night long in the darkness and all day long in the sunlight keeps on flowing up the vine-stem into every leaf, and every curling tendril, and every tiny grape-and we call it the life. Without this life there could be no fruit. You may see branches that the gardener has cut off, lying strewed about-the stream of sap can no longer flow into them-there will be no life, and therefore no grapes. "The branch cannot bear fruit of itself."

You might get some imitation grapes, and tie them or glue them on to one of those dead branches. Sometimes people stick paper roses on the bushes to deck their garden for an autumn fête. But fruit that does not grow on a living tree can be of no use to eat. There was once a little girl who read her Bible regularly, and learnt her Sunday school lessons well, collected money for missions, and did a good deal to help the poor, and she thought she was such a fruitful branch! But, alas! she was not joined to the true Vine, and these were only dead works (Heb. ix. 14). The fruit was not real, it was dead fruit, and a branch not joined to the Vine can have no other.

What a wonderful and mysterious thing life is! What do we know about our own life? The life of a plant is mysterious too. The sun, the air, and the dew nourish it, but do not keep it alive. The life does not only flow in through the leaves or branches. We see the ripe fruit and green leaves, and know the plant is alive, but the root is hidden. And so the source of the Christian's life is secret. The Christian's light ought to shine before the world, but the world cannot see where it springs from. In the Interpreter's house the pilgrim saw the fire burning against the wall, but the man with the oil was out of sight. The Ganges flows through the plains of India and has many towns on its banks, but its source is far away up in the mountains. So we can see the holy activity and zeal of a Paul, but the source of his life is "hid with Christ in God" (Col. iii. 3).

But though the root is out of sight there is always a connection between it and every cluster of grapes on the vine. In one of the Alpine valleys is a tree which seems as if it were growing out of the bare rock. But on looking closer you see a long string of root reaching down to a ledge far below, where there is some soil for it to grow in. All the life runs up through that root; cut it, and the tree will die. A whole town is lighted from one gasometer; cut the pipe, and the town is in darkness. The telegraphic wire will carry a message round the world, but not if the connection is broken. The stream of sap, and the stream of gas, and the stream of electricity, must be continuous-the connection must be kept up; and so if we are to bear fruit we must receive a constant supply of spiritual life from Christ the fountain-head, through the connecting link of faith.

"Without Me"-severed from Me-says Jesus, "ye can do nothing." Take a penknife and simply cut through the vine branch-leave it where it is, it will look fresh and green for a time, and no one will know the difference; but there will never be any fruit, and very soon the branch will be dry, and withered, and dead.

Let us seek now to be grafted into the true Vine.

(The teacher should see an admirable address on this subject by Rev. S. G. Green, in the Union Magazine for April, 1864, where some of the points above mentioned are more fully worked out.) T. B. BISHOP.

THE WEDDING GARMENT.-Matt. xxii. 1-14.

An Infant Class Lesson, given at Cross Street Sunday School, Islington.

After singing the hymn "Around the throne of God in heaven," &c., the teacher put up the following text,- "The marriage supper of the Lamb," the children spelling the words one after another.

"What is another word for marriage?"

"Wedding."

"Who is the Lamb?"

"Jesus."

Yes, because He is so gentle. Where is Jesus living now?" "In heaven."

"Well, this marriage supper is to be up in heaven, and you and I, and all people are invited to go to it. All, whether young or old, rich or poor, black or white. Here at weddings only a few people are asked; if all were asked—what then?"

"There would be no room for them."

"In heaven there will be plenty of room, even if all the people in the world were to go. Now at a wedding everything is as beautiful and nice as the persons can afford; there are flowers, fruit, music, &c. I was once at a wedding where the flowers on the table looked so beautiful,-there were pink roses, white lilies, and many others; the flowers at the supper in heaven will be much more beautiful. Suppose one of you gave me a beautiful nosegay— -No, I won't suppose, I will tell you what once really happened. It was my birthday, which is very early in the spring; a day or two after, when I went into my parlour, there stood on the table one of the prettiest little flower-stands you ever saw, and in it one of the sweetest nosegays I ever had given me,-some white snowdrops, some yellow primroses, some sweet-scented violets, some red geraniums, and all these surrounded with fern-leaves. Oh! what care I took of my nosegay!changed the water every day—and I would have given a great deal to have kept it fresh and beautiful for ever, but I could not; one after another the leaves dropped off, and do what I would, at the end of two weeks my beautiful nosegay was all withered, and I had only a few dry leaves and bare stalks.

"But in heaven the flowers never wither-the music never goes wrong-the fruits are always good. Besides, there is no darkness, there are 'beautiful songs