good seed quite away. And then some of you like to hear about Christ, and his words and works, and are quick, and easily understand and take in new thoughts, and, perhaps, think you would like to be good children, and to love Christ, and be his disciples, and go home and go to sleep full of good intentions and plans of correcting your faults. But the next morning other lessons have to be learned, and other things to be thought about, and your faults and bad habits are strong; and so every day the echo of the Sunday’s teaching grows fainter, and at last the end of the week comes, and finds you no nearer God or the fulfilment of your good resolutions than the beginning. The thorns have sprung up—the cares and pleasures of this world—and choked the good seed that was beginning to grow. And then, again, perhaps, there are some of you who would like very much to be pious, only you are afraid of being unlike others, afraid of being teased for being strict, or laughed at; for persecution does not only consist in burning or hurting the body,—little annoyances are often harder to bear than great sorrows. But think how very cowardly this would be, how very ungrateful and ungenerous to Jesus. He bore the sneers and taunts of crowds for your sake, and bore them too when he was suffering great pain; and can you not bear a little laugh for his sake? Think how happy it is to be able to bear a little for him who bore so very much for us; think what joy to have his eye on us, and to hear his kind voice saying, ‘Blessed are ye, little children, who confess me as your Master before men; for I will confess you to be my beloved ones before the angels of God.’ And then, dear children,” Mrs. Mordaunt added, “I hope there are some of you who do love your Saviour, and are treasuring up his words in your hearts; and to you I would say, there are differences even among Christ’s disciples. Some bring forth fruit thirty, some sixty, and some an hundred fold. Seek, then, not only to bring forth fruit, but much fruit; to be better and happier every day. God means you to do this; he will certainly enable you to do it if you ask.

“And before you leave,” she said, “I will first tell you three things which I particularly wish you to remember: the place where the seed is to grow; the enemies which try to destroy its life; and what makes it grow. First, where is the seed sown?”

“In the heart,” replied all the children.

“Are your spelling lessons, or your lessons on the multiplication table, sown in your hearts?”

The children smiled, and answered, “No.”

“Then you do not expect them to bear fruit in your life. It does not improve your tempers or your hearts to learn that h e a r t spells heart, does it? or that 12 times 12 are 144?”

The children thought not.

“Then all you are expected to do with such lessons is to remember them; is it not?”

“Yes, ma’am,” was the reply.

“Now that is precisely the point where your lessons in reading and spelling differ from your lessons about the Bible. When you sow seed in your memories, it is like laying up grains in a closed box. We do not expect them to grow; we are quite content if we find as many as we leave; we do not expect any fruit or growth. But when I sow seed in your hearts, it is like putting it into the ground; we want it to grow. It is not enough for it to remain safe and sound; we hope that it will bear fruit in your lives. I do not care only for finding it safe in your memories the next Sunday. I long to know that it has been making you better and wiser children during the week, helping you to fight with faults, teaching you to love God and one another. And speaking of your faults leads me to think of the enemies the little seed has to encounter. Can you think of some of the things which try to hinder its growth?”

“There were the fowls,” answered Kitty.

“And the thorns,” said some of the other children.

“And the sun,” said Amy.

“You know what the thorns and the scorching heat are?”

“Our faults and troubles?” asked Kitty.

“Yes. Side by side with the seed, and from the same soil, the heart, spring up thorns and weeds, which try to choke the seed. And the little seed has to struggle hard for its life; if it does not choke the weeds, the weeds will choke it. What must we do with the weeds?”

“Cut them down,” said the children.

“Yes. We must fight with our faults, and not let one, however small, be neglected, or it will soon cover the garden; for all weeds grow fast. But the other enemies, the heat and the fowls, cannot be destroyed. The scorching sun—trials and mockery—can only injure those plants which have no root, those hearts which are not trusting in Jesus, and rooted in him. But the fowls of the air,—those powerful and wicked spirits who are constantly on the watch to crush all that is good and encourage all that is evil in our hearts,—what can the little seed do against such enemies?”

The children gave no answer.

“It can do nothing,” said Mrs. Mordaunt. “You all see it has no power whatever; and in this, too, the seed is like us. What then can save it?”

There was a pause of a minute, and then Amy ventured to ask, “Does not God watch over it?”

“He does, my child,” replied Mrs. Mordaunt. “But do you remember why I said the plants are cared for without asking?”

“Because they cannot ask.”

“But we can ask. What is it called to ask anything of God?”

“To pray,” said all the children.

“Yes; that is what you may all do. Our Saviour calls himself the great husbandman or gardener; and now that he has risen and reigns on high, if you ask him, he will not disdain to watch over the little seed of good sown in your hearts. He will send the Holy Spirit, like the rain to young corn, to strengthen all that is good in you; and he will enable you, feeble as you are, to keep down all bad feelings, and tempers, and habits, which would choke the seed.

“So there are three things for you to remember: the seed is sown in your hearts, and must bring forth fruit in your lives; you have enemies within and without to fight with far stronger than any of you; and you have a Friend far stronger than all your enemies, who will give you the victory if you seek his aid. And shall I give you a little grain of precious seed to bear home with you?”

The children all wished it.

“Think, then, on these words, ‘By love serve one another.’ Try to love them, and pray to God for his strength to enable you, for the sake of his Son, our Saviour; for remember, though I cannot go home with you, God does.”

The church bells were ringing, the classes broke up to form into marching order, and the lesson was over.

CHAPTER III.

AT HOME.

AND what did the children think of Mrs. Mordaunt’s words? We will follow them home and see. Little Jane Hutton, I am afraid, forgot them; for during the service her eyes kept wandering round the church in search of gay dresses and bonnets, and watching what her school-fellows thought of her own new ribbons.

Kitty Harrison had attended to what Mrs. Mordaunt said, and resolved to do it; so she found out all the places in her prayer-book, and went home