A teacher must really be converted to what he teaches or there is a hollowness to all that he utters.  “Children and dogs,” it is said, are the great judges of sincerity—­they instinctively know a friend.  No teacher can continue to stand on false ground before his pupils.  The superintendent of one of our Sunday Schools, having selected one of the most talented persons in his ward to teach a Second Intermediate Class was astonished some months later to receive a request from the class for a change of teachers.  The class could assign no specific reasons for their objections, except that they didn’t get anything out of the class.  A year later the superintendent learned that the teacher was living in violation of the regulations of the Church, on a particular principle, and it was perfectly clear why his message didn’t ring home.

The sincere teacher not only believes what he teaches—­he consecrates his best efforts to the task in hand.  He urges no excuse for absence or lack of preparation—­“he is there.”  He lets his class feel that for the time being it is his greatest concern.  He meets with boys and girls because he loves to and reaches out to them with an enthusiasm that cannot be questioned.

3.  OPTIMISM

is the sunshine of the classroom.  It is as natural to expect a plant to develop when covered with a blanket as it is to expect a class to be full of activity and responsiveness under an influence of unnatural solemnity.  Lincoln is quoted as having declared, “You can catch more flies with a drop of honey than with a gallon of vinegar”—­a homely expression, but full of suggestion.  A grouch is no magnet.

A little girl when questioned why she liked her Sunday School teacher said, “Oh, she always smiles at me and says, hello.”  There is contagion in the cheeriness of a smile that cannot be resisted.  Children live so naturally in an atmosphere of happiness and fun that teachers of religious instruction may well guard against making their work too formally sober.  Frequently teachers feel the seriousness of their undertaking so keenly that they worry or discipline themselves into a state of pedagogical unnaturalness.  There is very great force behind the comment of the student who appreciated the teacher who could be human.  The experience is told of a teacher who continued to have difficulty with one of her pupils.  He so persisted in violating regulations that he was kept in after school regularly, and yet after school hours he was one of the most helpful lads in the school; in fact, he and the teacher seemed almost chummy.  Struck by the difference in his attitude, the teacher remarked to him one afternoon, as he went about cleaning the blackboard, “Jimmie, I have just been wondering about you.  You’re one of my best workers after school—­I can’t understand how you can be so different during school hours and after.”

“Gee, that’s funny,” put in Jimmie, “I was just thinking the same thing about you.”