proud of her better memory.

"You are both right," said Mrs. Mordaunt. "The disciples of Jesus are
those who come to learn of him; and the first lesson every one who
comes to Jesus learns is to love him. Nothing can be learned of Christ
without loving him.

"Well," she continued, "our Lord looked round on the crowd: the proud
and clever men who stood knitting their brows, and eagerly watching
his words, and from time to time whispering to one another; the eager
multitude, who listened in mute wonder to his wonderful lessons; the
little group of disciples who gathered affectionately about him; the
sick whom he had healed; the possessed and mad whom he had restored to
reason; the despised sinners whom he had received and forgiven; and
perhaps there were some pious mothers there with little children who
were not afraid to come close to him, for he loved little children.
But he saw more of that crowd than we should have seen if we had been
there. What was it that he saw which we cannot see?"

The children were silent a minute, and then Amy murmured, "Was it
their hearts, ma'am?"

Mrs. Mordaunt replied kindly, "Yes; and he saw how differently his
words would tell on the hearts of the crowd around. And so he taught
them a lesson in this story which we call--"

"The parable of the sower," said Kitty quickly.

Then Mrs. Mordaunt examined the children about the parable, and
finding they had attended to it and understood it, she talked to them
about it.

"Now, dear children," she said, "this school-room, with its
whitewashed walls, is a very different place from the shores of the
Sea of Galilee; and you, little children, with your pleasant English
homes, and your Bibles, and your Sunday schools, I daresay think
yourselves very different from the grave priests, and clever lawyers,
and rough Hebrew labourers and farmers, and Roman soldiers, who
gathered around the Saviour then. But among you, as among that
multitude, who have so long since gone the way of all the earth, the
eye of Jesus Christ (for he sees here as well as there) sees two great
divisions, not of rich and poor, or clever and stupid, but of those
who are his disciples and those who are not. Which class would you
like to belong to?"

Kitty answered eagerly, "His disciples, ma'am."

Some of the children were silent, and some spoke with Kitty; but
little Amy said nothing--the tears filled her eyes and choked her
voice.

"You may all be Christ's little disc