ARE ANY OF YOUR CLASS SERIOUS?
This was the question which the superintendent of our school put to each of us teachers at one of our late monthly meetings. My blushing answer was, "I do not know." Yes, reader, I am a Sabbath-school teacher, professedly teaching young souls the way to heaven, and yet when I was asked, were any journeying thither, I could not answer. Teacher, what would have been your answer? How many would have echoed my words? Many a serious thought or pious wish, that might be made the parent of future piety, slumbers and dies out, because the child is timid, the teacher negligent. The following Sabbath I determined to ascertain. For the morning's lesson, I took the birth, life, and death of my Saviour. I was in earnest that morning, and I spoke earnestly; tears forced their way up and hung trembling on the lash, as I dwelt on his sufferings and painful death. Ere long four pairs of eyes, that were fixed upon mine with intense interest, swam in tears; lips quivered, muscles worked, and heads drooped. I closed my Bible; and while my heart was yet filled with emotion, I drew them all closer to me and asked, "Who will love this Saviour, be a Christian, and go to heaven with his teacher?" Instantly four little hands were placed in mine, and four voices answered, "I will." Since then I have marked these boys, and I find that three, at least, gave no idle promise. Their walk and conversation proclaim them sons of God, while the fourth even now stands on the very threshold of the great household. And now, teacher, let me ask you, "Are any of your class serious?" Don't you know? Let not another Sabbath pass before you ascertain. There may be hearts all ready and waiting to receive the precious seed. Remember your responsibilities. If through your negligence any of your scholars are lost, what a sad reckoning awaits you!—Sel.