AUNT JANE'S REMEDY by Rev. M. W. Foshay

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Apr 17, 1893

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 19, No. 24.

AUNT JANE'S REMEDY.

By Rev. M. W. Foshay

BY REV. M. W. FOSHAY.

"MAMMA, what is the matter with our Sabbath school?"

"Why, dear child, I do not know. I have not been to the school since I was hurt, you know. You ought to be the one to tell me."

"Well, I am sure I cannot."

"What makes you think there is anything the matter?"

"Why, because it does not seem as if I cared whether I went or not; and half the girls look as if they felt the same way."

"I do not like to hear my daughter talk that way. It is very strange if you cannot tell why you feel so."

"I have been trying to think about it, but it does not help me any. I can't tell you any reason why, only I just feel so."

"If you cannot tell me anything about it, I do not see how I can help you. You will have to wait until your Aunt Jane comes. She is a great hand to find out the causes of things; and, besides, she is very much interested in Sabbath schools. She will go with you, and can see for herself."

So Nellie Brooker waited for the appearance of her aunt, who was soon to make a promised visit. It was agreed that nothing was to be said about the school till the visitor had an opportunity to attend and observe its condition.

Aunt Jane came in due time, and was as duly taken to Sabbath school by her niece. Nothing was said about it until the quiet of the afternoon. Then Nellie asked:—

"How did you like Sabbath school, auntie?"

"Very well. I always like Sabbath school."

"Yes, but how did you like ours? Was it good?"

"Of course it was. I never knew of a bad Sabbath school. They are for studying the Bible. I see that's what you all did this morning."

Nellie could not understand why her aunt should answer her questions in such a way. But her mother, more used to her sister's peculiarities, saw that she had discovered what the matter was in the school, and was waiting to find out just what Nellie wanted before saying much.

"Now, auntie, you're teasing me. Do you think our Sabbath school is as interesting as any Sabbath school?" continued Nellie.

"No, my dear, I do not. Now tell me just why you ask."

"Because I've thought it wasn't for a long time, and I asked mamma what the trouble was, but she could not tell, and told me to wait till you came."

"Nellie's description was so vague that I had nothing to judge from," said Mrs. Brooker. "In truth, she couldn't tell me anything at all, only how she felt."

"I do not wonder at it. Older heads than hers have been puzzled over the same state of affairs."

"Now, auntie, dear," said Nellie, "you have been and seen; do tell us just what the matter is."

"There isn't interest enough."

Nellie waited for her aunt to go on, but she did not.

"Why, I know. That's what I said. But what is the reason?"

"That is just the reason. There is not interest enough—because there is not interest enough. This may sound foolish, but it is not. A Sabbath school is just like a prayer meeting; if you want it interesting, you must take an interest in it. Now, I saw you smiling and bowing to girls across the room while your teacher was trying to gain your attention. Half of the other scholars were doing the same thing, while three-quarters of the rest were looking at the clock, to see how the time was going. Now, I suppose you think you have a dull teacher, don't you?"

"Why, I love her dearly. But—"

"But you have listened so irregularly to what she has said that you do not know much about her as a teacher."

"Well, it hasn't seemed interesting," answered Nellie, a little abashed.

"What hasn't seemed interesting?"

"Why, why—anything."

"Now, Nellie, I am going to stop bothering you, and I'm going to give you a very short lecture and a little advice. The trouble is with the whole school. In the teaching, it is mostly with the scholars; in the opening and closing exercises, it is with everybody. Just about half of them read, and do that as if they wished they didn't have to. It is not good to try to introduce anything to increase the interest while things are in such a state. Such additions as supplementary lessons, special questions and the like, are all right, if they accomplish their purpose to heighten the general attention; if they do not do this, you are worse off than if without them. All are, no doubt, ready to blame the superintendent, while he, poor man, as I could see for myself, is nearly worried to death over the state of affairs. If he is to blame anywhere, it is in not knowing in what direction the difficulty lies. You, Nellie, must show him how to improve the school."

"Why, auntie, I wouldn't dare say anything to him about it."

"You will not have to. Just call on the girls in your class, and in a confidential sort of way tell them you think you all ought to do something to enliven the school; tell them that you are going to study your lesson, and see how many questions you can answer, and ask them if they won't do the same. They will all agree to it readily enough. When next Sabbath comes, be prepared to pay strict attention to all that your teacher says. The result will work itself out. You will have plenty of time before I go away, the last of the week, to see your classmates and let me know if they will aid you. You or your mother can write me more about it after a while. I should not be so confident about this way of doing if I had not made a study of the matter. I'll tell you sometime how I saved a small country Sabbath school from sure death in the same way. If you can find half a dozen sensible people in the school, it can always be made interesting. You have many more than that in yours."

When Miss Howard asked her class the first question the next Sabbath, she was preparing to answer it, as usual, herself; but before she had time, Nellie and two others had given the answer. She looked surprised, almost startled, but went on with the lesson after a moment's pause. Before the girls had any idea the time was half gone, the bell sounded. Questions had been answered, and they had asked several, and were deeply interested in the explanations.

"Girls," said their teacher, as they rose to go, "girls, you do not know how much you have helped me to-day."

That was all she said; but as she smiled at them, and they saw tears of joy in her eyes, they felt that they had never known before what a dear teacher they had.

As they were taking their places for the closing exercises, Jennie Mayo, of another class, whispered, "I wish I was in your class. Our class is so dull."

"Learn your lesson, answer all the questions you can, and ask all the class to pay attention, and it won't be so dull."

A few Sabbaths after this the superintendent made a short address, as follows:—

"For several weeks I have been very much gratified to see the attentive manner in which two or three classes have spent the time for the study of the lesson. I believe the increased interest in our opening exercises, which you all cannot have failed to notice, has been due to this. After considerable thought, I am disposed to believe that the lack of interest in our school has been due to our want of attention to what we have been trying to do, rather than to the absence of anything to gain our interest. Let us all try for a few weeks to make the most of our exercises and our lessons, and notice the result."

Some three or four weeks after this, on coming in from Sabbath school, Nellie said to her mother: "I do wish that old bell wouldn't ring so soon. School isn't half long enough. We can't get a chance to ask nearly all the questions we want to."

Mrs. Brooker smiled, and wrote to Aunt Jane, who also smiled, and said to herself, "It's wonderful how interesting anything is, when people interest themselves in it."—Golden Rule.