Nineteen hundred? A forecast and a storyFarningham, Marianne
General
Nineteen hundred? A forecast and a story
Farningham, Marianne
Christian life -- Fiction; England -- Social conditions -- Fiction; Reformers -- Fiction
Then he adopted the plan of giving an address at the close of the
school, and the address was exceedingly like a lesson, for he had a
large blackboard on which he wrote points to be committed to memory; and
he asked many questions, which happened to be mostly addressed to the
classes that knew the least. After this had gone on for a few Sundays he
called a teachers’ meeting, and astonished the teachers by the
directness of his words to them.
“The most important part of the work of the church,” he said, “is the
Sunday-school, which ought, therefore, to be in the hands of those whose
whole hearts are in it. It is so great, and of such infinite moment,
that it deserves to occupy the men and women of highest culture and
talent; but it is work which is best done by those who love it, for
without enthusiasm in the teachers Sunday-schools are a failure. I hope
you will not be offended—but in any case I dare not hold my peace—when I
say that in all departments of our own schools there are some classes
which greatly need reform. There is a lack of discipline which is fatal;
and I fear that sometimes whole classes are dismissed which have not had
any real teaching at all. Now, my friends, this work must not be left in
incompetent hands. For my own part, I tell you frankly that I dare not
be a party to anything so disastrous to the future well-being of this
church. Let no earnest teacher be discouraged; but let all who are not
in earnest reconsider their position. The first thing for us to do is to
form a Teachers’ Training Class, and let us also meet together for
mutual preparation of the lesson. What times will be most convenient to
you?”
The teachers, as a whole, did not approve of the minister taking things
into his own hands in this fashion, and some of them ventured to say so.
“We’ve took this school ourselves heretofore, and we’re masters here,”
said a man, his face flushing with anger. “If the minister likes to come
and visit us sometimes, and say an encouraging word to us, why, we shall
be glad to see him; but I, for one, ain’t agoing to be dictated to.”
Mr. Collinson made no reply to this, and another spoke.
“It is all very well to talk about training and preparation classes, but
few of us have time to attend them, for what with our two week-night
services, and all the things going on in the town, it is not easy to
take up two new subjects. I think we do enough if we come to school
Sunday after Sunday and take a class, for the children are so bad that
it is dreadfully hard work to do that.”
But the new minister had his own way.
“It is my school as well as yours,” he said. “I am at the head of it,
and while I wish to dwell in harmony with you all, yet, as I place a
higher estimate on Sunday-school work than any other, I am extremely
anxious that only teachers whose hearts are devoted shall attempt to
perform it. We must raise the whole character of this school; who will
stand by me in my endeavour to do this?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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