than in this beautiful discourse. Thus the Son of God stood among men, talking with them face to face as a brother, and giving to them, in his own spirit, glimpses of that heavenly rest for which all the world, at times, doth sigh.

The Sermon on the Mount drew a line which left the great body of the influential men of his country on one side, and Jesus and his few disciples on the other. If it were to be merely a discourse, and nothing else, it might be tolerated. But if it was a policy, to be followed up by active measures, it was scarcely less than an open declaration of war. The Pharisees were held up by name up by name to the severest criticism. Their philosophy and their most sacred religious customs were mercilessly denounced, and men were warned against their tendencies. The influence of the criticisms upon fasting, prayer, and almsgiving was not limited to these special topics, but must have been regarded as an attack upon the whole method of worship by means of cumbersome rituals. Ritualism was not expressly forbidden; but if the invisible was to be so highly esteemed, if simplicity, heart purity, spirituality, and absolute privacy of spiritual life, were to be accepted as the governing ideals of worship, all authoritative and obligatory ritualism would wither and drop away from the ripened grain as so much chaff, without prejudice, however, to the spontaneous use of such material forms in worship as may be found by any one to be specially helpful to him. Neither in this sermon nor in any after discourse did Jesus encourage the use of symbols, if we except Baptism and the Lord's Supper. He never rebuked men for neglect of forms, nor put one new interpretation to them, nor added a line of attractive color. The whole land was full of ritual customs. The days were all marked. The very hours were numbered. Every emotion had its channel and course pointed out. Men were drilled to religious methods, until all spontaneity and personal liberty had wellnigh become extinct. In the midst of such artificial ways, Christ stands up as an emancipator. He appeals directly to the reason and to the conscience of men. He founds nothing upon the old authority. He even confronts the "common law" of his nation with his own personal authority, as if his words

would touch a responsive feeling in every heart.

"Ye have

heard that it was said by them of old time," But I say unto you. This was an appeal from all the past to the living consciousness of the present. It was so understood. There was an unmistakable and imperial force in that phrase, “I say unto you"; and when the last sentence had been heard, there was a stir, and the universal feeling broke out in the expression, "He teaches as one having authority, and not as the Scribes."

Whatever may have kept the Pharisees silent, there can be no doubt that this discourse was regarded by them as an end of peace. Henceforth their only thought was how to compass the downfall of a dangerous man, who threatened to alienate the people from their religious control. Every day Jesus would now be more closely watched. His enemies were all the while in secret counsel. Step by step they followed him, from the slopes of Mount Hattin to the summit of Calvary!

HE crowd did not disperse or open to let Jesus pass through,

THE

but closed about him and thronged his steps, as he returned home to Capernaum. His discourses seem to have fascinated the people almost as much as his wonderful deeds astonished them. We do not imagine that the walk was a silent one. There must have been much conversation by the way, much discussion, and doubtless many replies of wisdom and beneficence from Jesus not less striking than the sentences of the sermon. From this time forth the life of Jesus is crowded with dramatic incidents. Nowhere else do we find so many events of great moral significance painted with unconscious skill by so few strokes. Their number perplexes our attention. Like stars in a rich cluster in the heavens, they run together into a haze of brightness, to be resolved into their separate elements only by the strongest glass. Each incident, if drawn apart and studied separately, affords food for both the imagination and the heart.

By one occurrence a striking insight is given into the rela

tions which sometimes subsisted between the Jews and their conquerors. Not a few Romans, it may be believed, were won to the Jewish religion. The centurion of Capernaum, without doubt, was a convert. We cannot conceive otherwise that he should have built the Jews a synagogue, and that he should be on such intimate terms with the rulers of it as to make them his messengers to Jesus. This Roman, like so many other subjects of the Gospel record, has come down to us without a name, and, except a single scene, without a history.

Soon after the return of Jesus to Capernaum, he was met (where, it is not said) by the rulers of the synagogue, bearing an earnest request from the centurion that he would heal a favorite slave, who lay sick and at the point of death. The honorable men who bore the message must have been well known to Jesus, and their importunity revealed their own interest in their errand. "They besought him instantly, saying that he was worthy for whom he should do this." Nor should we fail to notice this appeal made to the patriotism of Jesus, which, coming from men who were familiar with his life and teachings, indicates a marked quality of his disposition. "He loveth our nation, and he hath built us a synagogue." That the heart of Jesus was touched is shown in that he required no tests of faith, but with prompt sympathy said, "I will come and heal him." And, suiting the action to the word, he went with them at once to the centurion's house.

Learning that Jesus was drawing near, the centurion sent another deputation, whose message, both for courtesy and for humility, in one born to command, was striking, "Lord, trouble not thyself; for I am not worthy that thou shouldest enter under my roof: wherefore neither thought I myself worthy to come unto thee; but speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed." Then, alluding to his own command over his followers, he implies that Jesus has but to make known his will, and all diseases, and life, and death itself, would obey as promptly as soldiers the word of command. The whole scene filled Jesus with pleasurable astonishment. He loved the sight of a noble nature. And yet the contrast between the hardness of his unbelieving countrymen and the artless dignity of faith manifested by this heathen foreigner brought grief to his heart.

It suggested the rejection of Israel and the ingathering of the Gentiles. Many shall come from the east and west, and shall sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in the kingdom. of heaven; but the children of the kingdom shall be cast out into outer darkness. Then turning to the messenger he said, "Go thy way; and as thou hast believed, so be it done unto thee." The servant was instantly healed.

The severity of tone with which Jesus spoke of the unbelief of the leaders of his people, and of his rejection by them, is only one among many indications of the rising intensity of his feelings at this period. Every day seemed to develop in him a higher energy. His calmness did not forsake him, but the sovereignty of his nature was every hour more apparent. He was now more than ever to grapple with demonic influences, and to overcome them. He was about to make his power felt in the realms of death, and bring back to life those who had passed from it. The conduct of his family and the criticisms of the jealous Pharisees, as we shall soon see, plainly enough indicate that this elevation of spirit manifested itself in his whole carriage, and many even believed that he was insane, or else under infernal influences.

On the day following the healing of the centurion's servant, Jesus, on one of the short excursions which he was wont to make from Capernaum, came to the village of Nain, on the slope of Little Hermon and nearly south of Nazareth, on the edge of the great plain of Esdraelon. In the rocky sides of the hill near by were hewn the burial-chambers of the village, and toward them, as Jesus drew near, was slowly proceeding a funeral train. It was a widowed mother bearing her only son to the sepulchre. She was well known, and the circumstances of her great loss had touched the sympathies of her townsfolk, "and much people of the city was with her." His first word was one of courage to the disconsolate mourner,-"Weep not!" He then laid his hand upon the bier. Such was his countenance and commanding attitude that the procession halted. There was to be no deluding ceremony, no necromancy. "Young man, I say unto thee, Arise!" The blood again beat from his heart, the light dawned upon his eyes, and his breathing lips spake!

There is no grief like a mother's grief. No one who has the