and volitional nature. The feeling which we call interest is the basis of attention, and attention is requisite to any degree of self-active intellectual activity. The problems of how to arouse this interest, to keep it up, to give the child his springs to action, to make his conformity to insight a cheerful one, are questions only to be satisfied by an investigation of feeling.

Some of the things which a knowledge of feeling will help the teacher to determine are: Other things being equal, the school property (school ground, house, decorations, seating, lighting, ventilation, etc.), should be such that it will divide the child's energy between the sensuous discomfort and his intellectual activity, while it should be selected with a view to cultivating his appreciation of the beautiful. Too long school terms, day sessions, and too long time between rests, violate the child's tendency to rhythm and cause feelings of excess of activity, which not only destroy his interest in his school work but give him a feeling of revulsion for it. All branches that appeal to the child through his sensuous pleasures should come early in his course of study. The work should be so arranged as to call for the highest degree of energy, yet not be so difficult that the child cannot master it. Those branches or those phases of branches which call forth intellectual activity almost wholly, and appeal very slightly to the feelings, should be taken late in the course. The daily program should be permanent, and should be arranged so those subjects which require the greatest mental work should come at a time in the day when the child's intellectual activity is greatest. Such feelings as anger, distrust, discouragement should find no place in the school. The teacher, by a knowledge of feeling, should be able to arouse the opposite. K. M.

LEND A HAND.

[This department is conducted by MRS. E. E. OLCOTT.]

"Look up and not down

Look forward and not back

Look out and not in;

Lend a hand."

HOW ONE TEACHER READ.

A previous article, "Can You Read," suggested that a true teacher should not read for herself alone but for her pupils, too. The following illustrates the idea by showing how one teacher read and afterward shared "The Vision of Sir Launfal" with her pupils. She taught a grammar grade. Her purpose was to give her pupils pleasure and such a knowledge of the poem that when they heard or read references to Lowell's "Sir Launfal," it would not be meaningless to them. Some who heard her remembered it always though they never read the poem. Some read it who would not have done so but for the interest in it which she awakened. Some who would have read it any way read it with a clearer understanding and increased pleasure. Her "Lowell" was on her desk, for the story had been carefully thought out and passages marked so that reading them added to the telling of the story. Do you wonder that a number of pupils afterward borrowed her book.

"This is excellent work," said the teacher, looking over the papers, "so excellent that instead of the regular recitation I will tell you something I read during vacation."

There was soft sound of approval and a settling into attentive attitudes and the teacher told

"THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL.”

"There is a tradition that the cup out of which Christ drank at the last supper was given to Joseph of Aramathea and that he brought it to England. It was handed

down to his descendants as a precious heirloom. Each heir to it must be chaste in thought, word and deed; one violated this condition and the cup, which is called the Holy Grail, disappeared. The knights of King Arthur's court used to search for it. Sir Launfal was a young knight who vowed he would 'seek in all climes for the Holy Grail.'

It was June when

when

It is

"Every clod feels a stir of might,

And climbs to a soul in grass and flowers;"

"There's never a leaf nor a blade too mean
To be some happy creature's palace."

"the high tide of the year.

"The heart is so full that a drop o'er fills it,

We are happy now because God wills it;

We may shut our eyes but we can't help knowing
That the sky is clear and the grass is growing."

Sir Launfal remembered his vow and said:
"My golden spurs now bring to me,
And bring to me my richest mail,
For to-morrow I go over land and sea
In search of the Holy Grail.

Shall never a bed for me be spread

Nor shall a pillow be under my head

Till I begin my vow to keep;

Here on the rushes will I sleep,

And perchance there may come a vision true,
Ere day create the world anew.'

A vision did come. Sir Launfal dreamed that he saw his castle 'dull and gray, the proudest hall in the North Countree.' Its gates never opened except to lords and ladies. It stood 'like an outpost of the winter' and summer besieged it on every side' but 'she could not scale its chilly wall.' He saw himself on his charger in 'his golden mail so bright' that it 'made morn through the darksome night' as he sprang through the dark arch. Outside the gate a leper crouched and begged and moaned, and

and rode on.

Seemed the one blot on the summer morn,

So he tossed him a piece of gold in scorn”

"The leper raised not the gold from the

dust' but turned from it saying:

"Better to me is the poor man's crust,

Better the blessing of the poor

Though I turn me empty from the door,"

because one "who gives only from a sense of duty,' gives but 'worthless gold'; the gift which the hands can hold is not true alms. But one who gives for Christ's sake, through love and sympathy, though it is but a slender mite it is so large that

"The hands cannot clasp the whole of his alms,

The heart outstretches its eager palms.'

Suddenly in Sir Launfal's dream it seemed no longer June, but winter time and

"Down swept the chill wind from the mountain peak,
From the snow five thousand summers old.

It carried a shiver everywhere.

The little brook heard it and built him a roof, 'Neath which he could house him winter proof. The river was dumb and could not speak For the weaver Winter his shroud had spun. Within the hall were song and laughter. The cheeks of Christmas grow red and jolly, But the wind without was eager and sharp, Of Sir Launfal's gray hair it makes a harp And rattles and wrings its icy strings." Sir Launfal had sought for the world over and sought in vain. old and poor, to find the gate that opened only to lords and ladies closed against him, for another heir had taken possession of the castle. Though it was Christmas time he was sent away into the darkness and cold.

Holy Grail the whole
Now he had returned,

"Sir Launfal turned from his own hard gate,

For another heir in his earldom sate;

An old, bent man, worn out and frail,

He came back from seeking the Holy Grail.
Little he wrecked of his earldom's loss;

No more on his surcoat was blazoned the cross,

For it was just at the Christmas time;
So he mused, as he sat, of a sunnier clime."

As he mused he was roused by a voice saying:
"For Christ's sweet sake I beg an alms,"

and there cowering beside him was the leper, a lank, grewsome thing

"In the desolate horror of his disease."

Sir Launfal did not shrink from him this time but kindly said:

Then the soul of the leper stood up in his eyes

And looked at Sir Launful and straightway he
Remembered in what haughtier guise"

when he was rich and young he had flung gold to the leper as he rode from his gate. His heart was filled with regret and to atone for the past

Suddenly

"He parted in twain his single crust

He broke the ice on the streamlet's brink
And gave the leper to eat and drink."

"A light shone about the place;

The leper no longer crouched at his side,

But stood before him glorified,"

and it was Christ himself and he said to Sir Launfal,

"In many climes without avail

Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail;

Behold, it is here-this cup which thou
Didst fill at the streamlet for me but now;

This crust is my body broken for thee,
This water his blood who died on the tree;

The Holy Supper is kept, indeed,

In what so we share with another's need;
Not what we give but what we share-
For the gift without the giver is bare;

Who gives himself with his alms feeds three-
Himself, his hungering neighbor and me."