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OUR LORD'S 
 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. 
 
PUBLISHED DV 
 
 JAMES MACLEHOSE, GLASGOW. 
 
 MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON. 
 London, . . . Hamilton, Adams and Co. 
 Cambridge, . . Macmillan and Co. 
 Edinburgh, . . Edmonston and Douglas. 
 Dublin, . . . W. H. Smith and Son. 
 
OUR LORD'S 
 
 Three Raisings from the Dead. 
 
 REV. HUGH MACMILLAN, 
 
 LL.D., F.R.S.E., 
 
 AUTHOR OF "BIBLE TEACHINGS IN NATURE," "THE TRUE VIVE.' 
 "THE GARDEN AND THE CITY," ETC., ETC. 
 
 " Shall the dead arise and praise thee?" — Ps. lxxxviii. ic. 
 
 (Shtsgoto : 
 JAMES MACLEHOSE, 
 
 PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY. 
 
 LONDON : MACMILLAN AND CO. 
 1876. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
PRINTED \ r l HE I NIVERS1 ' 
 
PRE FA CE. 
 
 'THE substance of the following chapters, with 
 some modifications of form, so as to make the 
 narratives more continuous, was given in a series of 
 Sunday afternoon lectures to my congregation last 
 spring. Like all who publish what has been prepared 
 for the pulpit, I feel tempted to make apologies for 
 them. But I have only to state that they are plain, 
 popular expositions of the three greatest miracles of 
 our Lord, which are now for the first time — so far as I 
 am aware — brought together and made into a separate 
 book. I have not entered into the deeper exegetical 
 or scientific questions which these miracles involve, 
 and around which so much recent controversy has 
 gathered ; for my aim has been to bring out as simply 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 and clearly as I could the important truths repre- 
 sented in them — viewing them in the interesting light 
 of acted parables. I have made use of all the critical 
 and expository helps bearing upon the miracles within 
 my reach ; but desire especially to acknowledge my 
 obligations for some suggestions to the writings of 
 Archbishop Trench, Davies, Woodward, Baldwin 
 Brown, Dr. Westcott, and Mrs. Fry. In the hope 
 that what I have written, upon a theme so old and 
 well-worn, may nevertheless suggest some thoughts of 
 comfort and instruction to those who are brought by 
 sorrow and bereavement into circumstances to need 
 them, I have ventured to give these lectures greater 
 publicity than they have already enjoyed. 
 
 H. M. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 
 
 Chapter I. 
 
 THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER, .... 3 
 
 Chapter II. 
 
 THE RAISING OF THE WIDOW'S SON, 75 
 
 Chapter III. 
 
 THE RAISING OF LAZARUS, 135 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 r ~PHERE are two reasons why a refusal to believe 
 in the miracles of the Bible is more general now 
 than in former times. The first is, that physical science 
 has placed in a clearer light the unvarying order of 
 external nature, and invested the idea of law with a 
 grandeur and power inconceivable to our ancestors. 
 And the second is the greater prevalence in these 
 days of the gift of historical imagination ; the ability 
 to realise the persons and events of the past as if 
 they were actually living and present before us. As 
 supposed violations of physical law, many trained in 
 science reject the miracles as simply impossible, and 
 would not believe them upon any evidence whatever ; 
 and, vivified by the realism of the present day, and 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 tested by its standards, the accounts that are given of 
 them are said by certain critics to present difficulties 
 altogether unnoticed in the dim religious light in which 
 they were formerly regarded. The full discussion of 
 such objections, which have been repeatedly and 
 abundantly answered elsewhere, would occupy too 
 much space, and. is besides foreign to the object 
 which I have in view. I would simply remark, in 
 regard to the first objection, that the so-called laws 
 of nature, with whose existence miracles are held to 
 be utterly incompatible, are, after all, only relations of 
 force as they appear to our own minds \ and we have 
 no warrant for assuming that the subjective boundaries 
 of our thoughts are the objective boundaries of God's 
 thoughts. May not the miracles which seem contrary 
 to some few laws of nature, as known to us, be parts 
 of some great fixed order of causes unknown to us? 
 I believe, indeed, that they are all referrible to law 
 when taken into the higher classification of God ; that, 
 like the natural exceptions to the ordinary working of 
 the laws of nature, of which there are so many striking 
 examples, they come under a law which comprises both 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 themselves and the daily uniform phenomena around 
 us. We cannot bring will and original thought into 
 any such sequence of cause and effect as we see 
 in the objects of nature around us ; and this of 
 itself indicates that there can be no conclusive 
 antecedent objection of a metaphysical kind to the 
 occurrence of miracles. Besides, scientific men them- 
 selves allow that there have been three breaks of con- 
 tinuity in the history of the universe — the creation of 
 matter, the production of life, and the formation of 
 man. No forces or operations such as we see before 
 us can account for these phenomena. They are ab- 
 solutely unexplainable upon any theory of evolution. 
 They may therefore fairly be regarded as "avenues 
 leading up into the unseen," and as laying the founda- 
 tion upon which all the acts of interference with the 
 established order of things — all the breaks of con- 
 tinuity recorded in Scripture — may be based. In 
 regard to the second objection, I have only to say 
 that it supplies its own corrective. The modern habit 
 of thought, which realises the difficulties more vividly. 
 can realise also more vividly the favourable evidences. 
 
xii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 If the stereoscope of historical imagination, applied to 
 the miracles, and raising them from flat inanimate 
 pictures, to which no sense of reality was attached, 
 into clearly outlined, living, and moving incidents, 
 shows to the higher criticism of the day small and 
 imaginary defects — it reveals to devout and unbiassed 
 minds surpassing beauties, which remove or harmonize 
 these defects, and produce the irresistible conviction 
 of truth. 
 
 Formerly miracles were isolated from their con- 
 nection with doctrines in the Sacred Text, and were 
 regarded as the master-proofs of the Divine origin 
 and authority of Revelation. Separated in this way, 
 and examined upon their own merits, many have 
 looked upon them with suspicion and distrust. They 
 have wished to precipitate them altogether to the 
 bottom, as a sediment accidentally collected by the 
 breeze of circumstance from the disintegration of older 
 faiths and myths, and to draw off from them the pure 
 simple element of spiritual truth. But such a process 
 is now manifestly impossible, for miracles are no 
 longer regarded as mere evidences, but as essential 
 
IXTRODUCTIOX. 
 
 and integral parts of the truth itself. Their evidential 
 value is only part of their significance. They are 
 acted parables — truths dramatized or acted before the 
 eye, instead of spoken to the ear. They are not chance 
 flowers that have found their way into the crevices 
 of the old crumbling wall of religion, but the living 
 stones of the structure itself; and if they are removed, 
 the whole fabric must tumble down at the first shock. 
 By this method of regarding them, the miracles have 
 gained immensely in their power of convincing us. 
 The subtle harmonies which they disclose to him who 
 studies them attentively; their profound consistency 
 with themselves, with the sacred truth which they 
 illustrate, with the primary needs, sympathies, and 
 aspirations of human nature, and with the laws ot 
 providence which operate in the ordinary world ; their 
 extreme simplicity and comprehensive variety; their 
 refusal to make the supernatural more Divine than 
 the natural, and the absence in them of the peculiar 
 elements which plainly distinguish all myths, legends, 
 and apocryphal miracles; these internal evident 
 produce upon our minds an impression, which we 
 
xiv JXTRODUCTION. 
 
 may not be able always to define, but which is so 
 strong, so cumulative, so abiding, that no amount 
 of verbal criticism of the Gospel narratives, or of 
 abstract scientific argument founded upon the laws of 
 nature, can do away with it. If, indeed, the miracles 
 of the Gospel were never performed; then we have 
 to deal, in the record of them as imaginary creations, 
 with a literary miracle a great deal harder to under- 
 stand and receive. 
 
 One of the most striking features of our Lord's 
 miracles is, not only the wise economy pervading 
 every part of them, but the sparingness of their per- 
 formance. In this respect, they conformed to that 
 law of stability and silence, which is as characteristic 
 of God's government in the spiritual as in the natural 
 world. He who was not prodigal of revelation, and 
 opened His heavens but seldom in the history of man- 
 kind, was equally reserved, when He assumed our 
 nature, in putting forth His bared right hand from 
 behind the veil and beneath the covering of His 
 ordinary providence. Instead of availing Himself of 
 the Divine power which He possessed, at all times 
 
IXTRODUCTIOX, 
 
 and on all occasions, in order to confer startling 
 benefits — as we should have expected a professed 
 miracle-worker to do — He only wrought a few repre- 
 sentative miracles, on rare and adequate occasions. 
 There is an utter absence of prodigality in all the 
 groups into which His miracles may be arranged ; and 
 very specially is this to be noted in that distinct class 
 of wonders in which His power over the last enemy 
 was displayed. Only three instances are given of 
 His having raised the dead to life. And although St. 
 John, at the close of his Gospel, remarks that the 
 wonders recorded are only a few specimens out of 
 many which have been allowed to pass into oblivion, 
 still we have every reason to believe that we possess 
 an account of all the instances of this particular kind of 
 miracle that actually occurred. There is a manifest 
 completeness about the series, as regards number, 
 gradation, and significance, which forbids the specula- 
 tion that our Lord had resuscitated any others save 
 the daughter of J aims, the widow of Nain's son, and 
 Lazarus. We can detect in each of these cases a 
 special fitness in the miracle. One was an only 
 
x vi INTR OD UC TION. 
 
 child; the other the only son of a widow; and the 
 third the only brother of two orphan sisters. The 
 closest and most tender relationships of life were re- 
 presented. And surely if the evidence of three wit- 
 nesses is sufficient to establish any fact, the concurrent 
 testimony of these three eminent examples is enough 
 to prove conclusively the reality, and to show distinctly 
 the nature, of our Lord's triumph over death and the 
 grave. 
 
 Our Lord's three raisings from the dead are the 
 greatest works which He performed on earth. He 
 who increased in wisdom and in stature is repre- 
 sented in the Gospels as rising from lower to higher 
 manifestations of His Divine power. He began 
 with miracles of nature, and ended with miracles 
 of restoration from the dead. He removed first 
 the sicknesses and sufferings, the privations and limi- 
 tations, with which we ourselves have to struggle 
 every day, and frequently with success ; and then 
 conquered the greatest of all evils — that death which 
 is the triumph of sin, its most bitter and poisonous 
 fruit — which we find ourselves utterly powerless to 
 
IXTRODUCTIOX. xvii 
 
 prevent or remedy. The hope which He came to 
 establish was not confined within the narrow limits 
 of this world : it was to have a fuller and more 
 perfect dominion in the eternal world. And, there- 
 fore, the impenetrable wall of death, which seemed to 
 bar the way, was broken down, and made the passage 
 into a grander life and a wider place — the door into 
 that kingdom whose gates are never shut. Although 
 the other miracles lead up step by step to them, the 
 three raisings from the dead constitute a group by 
 themselves. For the other miracles, as Trench has 
 well pointed out, we are prepared by our own ex- 
 perience ; but these miracles are contrary to all that 
 we have ever seen or known in ordinal*} 7 life. We 
 recognise in the conversion of water into wine, in the 
 multiplication of loaves and fishes, in the calming of 
 the tempest, and in the healing of diseases, a Divine 
 acceleration, so to speak, of common processes of 
 nature. Water is changed into wine in the vineyard, 
 and bread multiplied in the cornfield, by the ordinary 
 operations of sun, shower, and vegetable life extending 
 over months ; storms naturally subside gradually ; and 
 
xviii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 diseases are cured after a time by treatment of the 
 physician, or yield to the restorative powers of nature. 
 Their analogies in the external world, or in the field 
 of providence, render these miracles less astonishing 
 and more comprehensible. But there is nothing in 
 nature analogous to Christ's raisings from the dead. 
 These are unique actions, transcending as well as 
 superseding the ordinary laws by which nature works. 
 " Between disease and health there is no distinct line 
 of demarcation ; the two conditions shade impercep- 
 tibly into each other, and the transition between them 
 is made every day, and in the experience, some time 
 or other, of almost every human being. But between 
 life and death — between the continuance and cessation 
 of existence — there is a fixed absolute boundary, which 
 nothing in our ordinary experience can help us, even 
 in imagination, to overleap." In a higher sense, there- 
 fore, than any of the other miracles, our Lord's three 
 raisings from the dead are revelations of Divine power, 
 and are charged with meanings more profound and 
 far-reaching. They are pre-eminently reflections of 
 the glory of the Incarnation. They are most difficult 
 
INTRODUCTIOX. xix 
 
 to believe and realise ; but, when accepted in simple 
 trustfulness, they are most fraught with consolation 
 and hope. They have drawn out the strongest opposi- 
 tion of hardened scepticism, and the most reverential 
 gratitude of faith. 
 
 The law of progression, which we can trace in the 
 miracles in general, is strikingly exhibited in this par- 
 ticular group. The great doctrine of individual im- 
 mortality was progressively revealed to man. Clearer 
 and fuller glimpses of it were given to certain favoured 
 individuals in different epochs. The faint surmisings 
 concerning a future state which we see in the earlier 
 dispensations, brightened into ampler representations 
 in the later; until at last life and immortality were 
 brought to light through the Gospel. A similar ad- 
 vancement may be seen, looked at from a human 
 point of view, in our Lord's three raisings from the 
 dead ; for they were not a threefold repetition of the 
 same miracle, but ascended by successive steps of 
 difficulty and wonder to a glorious climax. It must 
 be admitted, however, that no thought of such a 
 gradation appears to have entered the minds of the 
 
xx INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Evangelists, by whom one miracle seems to have been 
 regarded as easy or as difficult as another; and Strauss 
 has taken advantage of the orthodox admission of 
 progress in these miracles as favouring his theory of 
 Christian myth-making. Still, it is lawful to apply this 
 ascending scale to them, for Scripture itself irresistibly 
 suggests it; and we believe that the death-bed, the 
 bier, the tomb witnessed the gradually unfolding mani- 
 festation of the power of Him in whom the Divinity 
 was ever present and ever active, not only co- existent 
 but co-efficient. In the first case death had only 
 seized its victim ; in the second the sorrowing mother 
 was on her way to commit the body of her only son 
 to the grave; and in the third the corpse had been 
 deposited for several days in the tomb. Our Lord 
 called back to life, first, a child, later a young man, 
 and lastly a man in the prime and vigour of his days. 
 And, rising thus one above the other, these increasing 
 miracles pointed forward to, and prepared the way 
 for, the mightier miracle of Christ's resurrection, in 
 their own day; and now they point us onward further 
 still, to the stupendous miracle of the general resur- 
 
INTRODUCTIOX. X xi 
 
 rection of the dead at the last day — which will put 
 the cope stone upon the glorious work of the new 
 creation. 
 
 Like the symbolical rites of the Levitical law, which 
 served a temporary purpose, the miracles of restora- 
 tion from the dead have passed away \ but, like these 
 rites, they have their permanent place and purpose in 
 Revelation. They shine as " a light in a dark place," 
 as a taper in the chamber of suffering during the long 
 wean' watches of the night, to which we do well to 
 give heed till the day dawn. They are demonstrations 
 to us that all the prophecies which describe the putting 
 an end for ever to the unnatural thing, death, and 
 the bringing back of the true deathless nature shall 
 be fulfilled. In the light of these ascending miracles, 
 we read the great truth which they teach, that, as the 
 first act of the new creation was the union of the 
 Divine and human natures in the person of Jesus 
 Christ, so the last act of the new creation will 
 be the immortal union of the redeemed soul and 
 spirit with the renewed body fashioned like unto 
 the glorious body of Christ. In the light of these 
 
xxii INTRODUCTION. 
 
 miracles we take courage; for they tell us that our 
 life is not like the march of prisoners sentenced to 
 death, led irresistibly along to the fatal spot where 
 all shall be ended for ever, but an Emmaus-journey 
 — a walk with Christ — in which we shall overstep 
 the grave, and continue our immortal progress in 
 that bright world in which there shall be no more 
 death, completely attaining the archetype towards 
 which our life here has been one long reaching 
 out. In the light of these miracles we rejoice; 
 for as the dead who were raised on earth were 
 restored to the friends that were nearest and dearest, 
 and surrounded when they awoke by all the tender 
 and hallowed associations of home, so we shall 
 open our eyes beyond the grave, not in a solitary 
 state, and in a strange unknown scene, but in what 
 we shall feel to be a true home, and in the midst 
 of the faithful hearts and the familiar faces that 
 we loved and lost. God in these miracles has 
 crowned our human affections with the highest 
 glory, and made them the pledges of their own 
 immortality. " If a man die, shall he live again? 
 
INTRODUCTIOX. xxiii 
 
 All the days of my appointed time will I wait till 
 my change come. Thou shalt call and I will answer 
 thee; thou wilt have a desire to the work of thine 
 hands." 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 
 
St. Mark v. 21 to the End. 
 
 And when Jesus was passed over again by ship unto the other side, much 
 people gathered unto him : and he was nigh unto the sea. And, behold, 
 there cometh one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name ; and when 
 he saw him, he fell at his feet, and besought him greatly, saying, My little 
 daughter lieth at the point of death : I pray thee come and lay thy hands 
 on her, that she ma}' be healed ; and she shall live. And Jesus went with 
 him ; and much people followed him, and thronged him. 
 
 And a certain woman, which had an issue of blood twelve years, and had 
 suffered many things of many physicians, and had spent all that she had, and 
 was nothing bettered, but rather grew worse, when she had heard of Jesus, 
 came in the press behind, and touched his garment. For she said, If I may 
 touch but his clothes, I shall be whole. And straightway the fountain of her 
 blood was dried up ; and she felt in her body that she was healed of that 
 plague. And, Jesus, immediately knowing in himself that virtue had gone 
 out of him, turned him about in the press, and said, Who touched my 
 clothes? And his disciples said unto him, Thou seest the multitude throng- 
 ing thee, and sayest thou, Who touched me? And he looked round about to 
 see her that had done this thing. But the woman, fearing and trembling, 
 knowing what was done in her, came and fell down before him, and told him 
 ail the truth. And he said unto her, Daughter, thy faith hath made thee 
 whole ; go in peace, and be whole of thy plague. 
 
 While he yet spake, there came from the ruler of the synagogue's house 
 certain which said, Thy daughter is dead : why troublest thou the Master 
 any further? As soon as Jesus heard the word that had been spoken, he 
 saith unto the ruler of the synagogue, Be not afraid, only believe. And he 
 suffered no man to follow him, save Peter, and James, and John the brother 
 of James. And he cometh to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and 
 seeth the tumult, and them that wept and wailed greatly. And when he 
 was come in, he saith unto them, Why make ye this ado, and weep? the 
 damsel is not dead, but sleepeth. And they laughed him to storn. But 
 when he had put them all out, he taketh the father and the mother of the 
 damsel, and them that were with him, and entereth in where the damsel was 
 lying. And he took the damsel by the hand, and said unto her, Talitha cumi ; 
 which is, being interpreted, Damsel, I say unto thee, arise. And straight- 
 way the damsel arose, and walked ; for she was of the age of twelve years. 
 And they were astonished with a great astonishment. And he charged them 
 straitly that no man should know it ; and commanded that something should 
 be given her to eat. 
 
 See also St. Matthew ix. 18-27, and St. Luke viii. 41 to the end. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE RAISING OF JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 
 
 \ TERY lonely and deserted is the present aspect of 
 the whole region around the north-western shore 
 of the Sea of Galilee. Much of the old beauty of nature 
 still remains \ but there are few or no inhabitants ; 
 and frequent ruins mark the sites of populous places 
 whose very names have been forgotten. The Saviour's 
 words of doom regarding the principal towns of this 
 part of Galilee have been fulfilled to the very letter ; 
 and the fate of Sodom and Gomorrah, the cities of 
 that beautiful plain which was well watered even- 
 where as a garden of the Lord, has overtaken Beth- 
 saida and Chorazin, planted in the midst of scenery 
 even more fertile and lovely, on the shores of a lake 
 whose peculiar physical features resemble in a remark- 
 able degree those of its sister-sea in the south. In 
 the days of our Lord, however, this region was the 
 
4 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 focus of all the life and activity of the Holy Land. 
 Here were concentrated the largest masses of the 
 population ; the rich resources of the lake and of 
 the surrounding country affording them abundant 
 food and occupation. During the three years of His 
 public ministry, Jesus made this garden of Palestine 
 His home. Nowhere else could He who came to 
 preach Divine truth to the weary and heavy-laden, 
 and to seek and save that which was lost, have found 
 such a suitable sphere for His labours of self-denying 
 love. Nowhere else could He have found such 
 numerous representatives of all the races, occupations, 
 and experiences of mankind, ready to be influenced 
 by His many-sided, world-wide gospel. Amid the 
 ceaseless toil and turmoil of its teeming villages and 
 busy waters He wrought the blessed works of Him 
 that sent Him, and revealed the bright hopes of His 
 kingdom to cheer the wretchedness of humanity. 
 
 It was to this scene of crowded life that Jesus re- 
 turned from the comparatively desolate eastern shores 
 of the Sea of Galilee, from which the terrified in- 
 habitants, smarting under the loss of their swine, had 
 besought him to depart. Hardly had He stepped 
 upon the pebbly strand from the boat, and passed 
 through the fringe of willow-like oleanders which 
 adorned the water's edge, than He found Himself in 
 
i.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 5 
 
 the midst of a crowd waiting for His arrival. St. 
 Matthew interposes several incidents here ; but St. 
 Mark informs us that, immediately after landing, and 
 while speaking to the people, a man, whose dress and 
 appearance marked him out as a member of the 
 upper ranks of Jewish society, came hastily forward, 
 and saluted Him in the Eastern manner by prostrating 
 himself upon the ground at His feet. The name 
 of this man was Jairus, and he was one of the 
 prefects or rulers, in all probability of the synagogue 
 of Capernaum. Scripture tells us nothing of his pre- 
 vious history. He is brought before our notice solely 
 in connection with the wonderful work wrought upon 
 his daughter. He was doubtless well acquainted with 
 the person and reputation of Jesus, for Capernaum 
 was the place of our Lord's abode for a time suffi- 
 ciently long to admit of its being called His own 
 city. In its synagogue He often worshipped and 
 taught, and the wonderful discourse recorded in the 
 sixth chapter of St. John's Gospel was spoken within 
 its walls. Many of His mighty works were wrought 
 in the city or in the immediate neighbourhood. Jairus 
 had doubtless often heard those gracious words, and 
 seen those wonderful miracles, which had raised the 
 city to the highest elevation in point of privilege and 
 honour. What impression they had produced upon 
 
THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 him when all was well with him we know not, but 
 in the hour of sorrow he remembered the power and 
 kindness of this extraordinary man, and hastened to 
 seek His aid. Affliction had given him greater spiri- 
 tual insight than usual ; and, feeling himself to be in 
 the presence of a superior being, his salutation was 
 not a mere customary formality of eastern greeting, but 
 a distinct act of worship, a recognition of the claims 
 of Jesus to the highest reverence on account of His 
 holiness and authority. And, considering the position 
 of a ruler of the synagogue, to whom the Jews 
 looked up with great respect, this act of homage is 
 a striking proof of the high estimation in which Jesus 
 was held at that time, even by those of most exalted 
 rank. It has been suggested, indeed, that on a 
 former occasion Jairus had come into contact with 
 Jesus, had been a member of the deputation who 
 urged Jesus to grant the request of the Roman 
 centurion, on the ground of his love to the Jews, 
 and his munificence in building for them a synagogue. 
 If so, he who pleaded then for another, now pleads 
 for himself, and experience of former help emboldens 
 his present appeal. 
 
 Without waiting for any questioning as to the object 
 of his coming, in faltering accents, broken and rendered 
 incoherent by bursts of grief, he besought Jesus to 
 
I.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. j 
 
 come with him at once to his house. He said he had 
 a little daughter at home so seriously ill that he knew 
 not whether she was at that moment living or dead. 
 He had left her apparently at the point of death, and 
 he entreated Jesus to hasten to her, if perchance life 
 yet remained, for he knew that if He did but lay Hi^ 
 hand upon her she would be restored. St. Luke tells 
 us that the little daughter of Jairus was his only child, 
 and that she was about twelve years of age. Upon her 
 all the affections of her parents' hearts were doubtless 
 concentrated. She was the joy and the sunbeam of 
 their home, whose presence set their life to music, 
 and brought back to them the gladness and innocence 
 of their own young days. She filled the vista of\ 
 every hope, and formed the subject of every dream ' 
 of the future which they cherished. She had arrived 
 at that age which is fullest of interest, w T hen the bud 
 of childhood is about to open and to disclose the 
 hidden beauties and mysterious possibilities of life. 
 She was in the transition state between the passive 
 simplicity of the child and the settled independence 
 of womanhood ; still clinging with unquestioning tr 
 fulness to the past, and with unchanged love to the 
 old ties and associations of home, but casting out 
 tendrils of hope and wistful thought to the mystic 
 future stretching before her, with all its unknown ex- 
 
8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 periences and untried responsibilities. The heaven 
 of her infancy brooded over her still, full as ever of 
 the old tenderness \ but a new life was about to dawn 
 upon her out of its horizon. And with this dawning 
 of a higher consciousness upon her young mind, this 
 first awakening of an interest in real life and history, 
 would come the seriousness which, like the bloom on 
 the fruit, is one of the greatest charms of youth, one 
 of the most beautiful of God's inspirations. 
 
 The twelfth year we know was a marked period in 
 the life of a Jewish youth. He was then called by a 
 title which means " son of the law," and from that 
 period he began to bear a part in the various duties 
 prescribed by the Levitical law, to go up to Jerusalem 
 and worship at all the great festivals. It was at this 
 age that our Lord Himself paid His first visit to 
 Jerusalem, and was found by His disconsolate parents, 
 who had missed Him on their homeward journey, in 
 the temple questioning the learned doctors regarding 
 the significant events of Jewish history, and the great 
 rites and ceremonies of the law of Moses. We know 
 not if a similar custom prevailed in regard to Jewish 
 maidens, but it is extremely likely that it did. For 
 women it was prescribed, not by the law of Moses, 
 but by the traditions of the elders, that they should 
 go up to Jerusalem once a year to the Passover. 
 
L] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. g 
 
 And in all probability the daughter of Jairus had 
 come to that age, when her parents could take her 
 with them on their annual journey from Capernaum 
 to Jerusalem, to keep the greatest of all the Jewish 
 feasts. And doubtless she had looked forward to 
 this first visit to the sacred city, with all the excite- 
 ment and enthusiasm with which a child contemplates 
 its first departure from its quiet home to the busy 
 scenes of the great world, of which it has formed the 
 most romantic pictures. Brought up in the house 
 of a ruler of the synagogue, her aspirations would 
 doubtless find a congenial atmosphere in which to 
 breathe. She would be taught to cherish, from her 
 childhood, a feeling of reverence towards all those 
 sacred things which were the heritage of her race : 
 and perhaps to look forward with eager hope to the 
 fulfilment of that great promise of the Messiah, which, 
 like a golden thread, ran through and united and 
 harmonized all the wonderful chapters of her nation's 
 history. She must have heard her father and his. 
 brother officials often speak about the temple, which 
 was the sign of God's dwelling amongst His people, 
 and about the sacrifices always smoking upon the 
 altars, and about the priests, and the learned scribes, 
 and lawyers, whose sacred labours invested the place 
 with a halo of almost Divine solemnity. Year after 
 
io THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 year she had watched with growing interest and yearn- 
 ings the departure of her parents, as they went up 
 to behold all these wonders and take part in all 
 these services. And the time at length had come 
 when she herself was about to go up as a worshipper, 
 and see with her own eyes what she had heard with 
 her ears. But, alas ! a blight from heaven fell upon 
 her high hopes and expectations. A fatal sickness 
 came and closed the opening bud of her young life. 
 And now death was about to summon her to a longer 
 pilgrimage, to a more sacred city, and to higher 
 services than those which formed the subject of her 
 bright dreams; and for her the promise of the Messiah 
 would be in vain. What this sickness which seemed 
 to be unto death meant to the parents, no father's 
 or mother's heart can have any difficulty in under- 
 standing. I have seen a man who had all of life's 
 blessings which this world could bestow, wiping the 
 death-dews from a fair young face that was soon to 
 be an angel's, crying out in heart-broken accents, 
 " Oh ! my God, take all that I have, but leave me 
 i my child." Such must have been the feeling in the 
 heart of Jairus when he came to Jesus. All the glory 
 of the world was stripped off by the crowning calamity 
 which had darkened his home and heart. Rank, 
 wealth, social and religious consideration, all the things 
 
L] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. n 
 
 which he prized before, were made in a moment as 
 barren of interest and beauty, as a garden in November 
 on which has fallen the first black frost of winter. 
 
 The very fact that Jairus had left his daughter 
 to seek the help of Jesus, when her life was ebbing 
 so fast away, shows how urgent was his necessity. 
 With death standing so close, ready to snatch his 
 child from his arms, he could not, in ordinary circum- 
 stances, have left her side for a moment. He could 
 not afford to lose a single look of that dear face that 
 would soon be hid from him in the darkness of death ; 
 a single tone of the sweet voice which would soon 
 be hushed in the silence of the grave. This un- 
 speakably precious residue of life would require to 
 be made the most of; for no hand could turn the 
 hour-glass of time when the golden sands had run 
 out. And yet, with a wonderful self-denial, he had 
 surrendered the last sad moments of love's farewell 
 for this hope — desperate as it might seem — of getting 
 his daughter altogether restored to his arms, and the 
 shadow of death put back many degrees on the dial 
 of life. " And when he saw him, he fell at his feet 
 and besought him greatly, saying, Master, my little 
 daughter lieth at the point of death, I pray thee come 
 and lay thy hands upon her that she may be healed, 
 and she shall live." 
 
12 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 The words "and besought him greatly" indicate the 
 wild urgency of Jairus' petition, and not the Saviour's 
 hesitation or indifference. They describe the measure 
 of Jairus' fear, and not the measure of the Saviour's 
 pity. Jesus did not need to be besought. The 
 slightest whisper would have sufficed. From the sight 
 of suffering He never averted His eyes coldly \ to the 
 cry of distress He never turned a deaf ear. And, 
 therefore, He who made Himself known to men in 
 His highest glory through a fellowship with their 
 miseries, rose immediately and went away with the 
 broken-hearted father to the home where he expected 
 to see his worst fears confirmed. Nor did they go 
 alone. The disciples of Jesus also accompanied them ; 
 and the people who had been listening to His teach- 
 ing followed in their train, curious to see the end. As 
 they passed along, the crowd increased to such an ex- 
 tent that they filled entirely the narrow way, and pressed 
 unpleasantly upon Jesus and upon His companion, 
 who could not move on as fast as his terrible anxiety 
 urged him. While they are thus struggling with the 
 multitude, a woman, on whose emaciated countenance 
 are the traces of severe suffering, and whose form is 
 feeble with want and poorly clad, is borne unresistingly 
 along in the surging crowd, like a foam-flake on the 
 crest of a dark billow. She seems among the i 
 
L] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 13 
 
 multitude as much out of place as a fragile Alpine 
 flower, blanched by the wind and snow to a ghostly 
 paleness, borne down from the mountains by its native 
 stream into the midst of the gaudy wild flowers of the 
 meadows. She had heard the fame of Jesus as a 
 wonder-worker, healing diseases which had previously 
 baffled the most skilful remedies, and of His great 
 kindness to the poor, treating their various troubles 
 with uniform tenderness, and sending none who ap- 
 plied to Him away unaided. A sudden hope springs 
 up in her weary heart that this wonderful Being may 
 do for her what no other one had been able to do. 
 Poor and unfriended, having spent for twelve long 
 years upon physicians, as we are touchingly told, all 
 her living — the little hoard which she had carefully 
 saved up for a time of need — and her disease still as 
 active as ever, nay, aggravated by the painfulness of 
 the attempted remedies ; her case is indeed one that 
 is well-fitted to arrest the eye and excite the tender- 
 ness of the compassionate Redeemer. In the ebb 
 and flow of the crowd she finds herself close to Him. 
 With trembling awe, feeling her own unworthiness in 
 the presence of one so good and great, unwilling to 
 divert Him for a moment from His solemn purpose, or 
 to direct the attention of the multitude to herself, she 
 comes behind Him, and, stooping down modestly, 
 
1 4 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 shrinkingly touches the hem of His garment as it trails 
 on the ground, saying within herself, " If I may but 
 touch His garment, I shall be made whole. " 
 
 There was a moral significance in the hem of a 
 Jew's garment. According to the Mosaic law, it re- 
 quired to be bound with a ribbon of blue, as a 
 memorial of God's goodness to Israel, and a reminder 
 of the debt of gratitude which they owed Him. Like 
 all ordinances addressed to the senses, this custom, 
 however, failed in the course of ages to fulfil its wise 
 purpose ; for the Pharisees enlarged the blue ribbon, 
 and made broad their phylacteries, in order that they 
 might receive praise from men for their scrupulous ad- 
 herence to the mere letter of the law. Our Saviour 
 Himself in all likelihood wore this significant blue 
 fringe on the border of His woven and seamless coat ; 
 for every command of the law was sacred to Him, 
 and, in speaking of the custom of His nation, it was 
 the abuse and not the use that He condemned. It is 
 possible that the woman of Capernaum may have 
 been prompted to touch the hem of Christ's garment, 
 not merely because that was the part of it which lay 
 nearest to her, and which she could, most easily reach, 
 hut also, because she attributed a peculiar virtue 
 to it from its sacred associations. Be this, how- 
 ever, as it may, the deed is at least significant of 
 
I . ] J A IR US ' DA I 'GHTER. x - 
 
 ardent faith and profound humility; and it has an 
 instantaneous reward. Xo one notices her action ; 
 no one knew her necessity. Her sorrow and her hope 
 are both sealed up in her own heart, and no stranger 
 can intermeddle with them. But no sooner does her 
 hand come into contact with the robe of Jesus than 
 the ebb of life ceases, and she knows in herself that 
 she is cured. Though contact with one afflicted like 
 her would have caused ceremonial uncleanness till 
 the evening, that single touch through faith of Him 
 whom nothing can defile, and who passed like a sun- 
 beam through all the pollutions of earth, has purified 
 her, and done what the waste of all her substance 
 spent upon earthly physicians could not do. Even 
 amid the pressure of the crowd, Jesus felt that one 
 magnetic touch of faith which drew healing virtue out 
 of Him. And we may well suppose that He who 
 took pleasure in the centurion's confidence, and the 
 Magdalen's love, and the Samaritan leper's gratitude, 
 and the devotion of Mary of Bethany, despised and 
 rejected of men as He commonly was, must have also 
 rejoiced, as a foretaste of the joy set before Him, in 
 the signal proof of confidence in Him given by this 
 poor lone woman. AYhen she had touched Him and 
 was healed, He turned round and caused the sun- 
 shine of His loving countenance to shine upon her. 
 
i(> THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 He did not wish to turn the eyes of the crowd upon 
 her to embarrass her and aggravate her pain, until she 
 had felt the sense of the happy wonder that had been 
 wrought upon her, and, in the new strength of her 
 cure, was lifted above all morbid shame. And now, 
 He will not suffer her to remain in concealment any 
 longer, to go away in this stolen, impersonal, unrecog- 
 nising way. By a searching question and a gracious 
 force He causes her to come forward out of the crowd, 
 and reveal herself all trembling and blushing with 
 gratitude and awe. She tells all the truth, not to Jesus 
 only, but before all the people ; she discloses the 
 secret source of her impurity as well as its cure. The 
 work of faith is perfected by open confession \ and 
 therefore, before all the people, Jesus bestowed upon 
 her that higher spiritual blessing, of which the healing 
 of the body was the outward emblem and preparation, 
 and which would be an overflowing fountain of joy 
 in her heart to her dying day. 
 
 This incident in itself, and apart from its circum- 
 stances, is exceedingly suggestive. But there is one 
 special doctrine which it illustrates- and enforces in a 
 very striking way, viz., that Salvation is a simple, easy 
 thing; or, in other words, that a very small part of 
 Gospel truth is sufficient to save the soul. The poor 
 woman with the issue of blood did not know Christ 
 
I. ] JA1R US ' DA UGHTER. I 7 
 
 intimately like St. Peter or St. John. She had pro- 
 bably never seen Him before. We know not even if 
 she saw His face until she was healed, for we are told 
 that she stole up behind Him. She did not embrace 
 Him in her arms, or hold His hand, or press directly 
 against His body. She did not hear Him preach, or 
 see Him perform a miracle. She only touched the 
 hem of His garment, the most distant point in con- 
 nection with Him. And the faith that prompted her 
 to do this, though a most real faith, was perhaps im- 
 perfect in its form, based upon a superstitious idea, upon 
 an erroneous estimate of the manner in which the 
 healing power of Christ was exerted. And yet, through 
 the channel of that imperfect faith, and by that slightest 
 of all possible contact with Jesus, healing virtue flowed 
 from Him to her; and she who at first merely touched 
 His garment from behind, in the end saw His face, 
 heard His voice, was called, Ruth-like, His daughter — 
 an expression used here alone in the whole New 
 Testament, Jesus calling even His mother and Man- 
 Magdalene " woman" — and gladdened with the fulness 
 of that peculiar blessing given only to one other person 
 in the Gospel narrative. And does not this show to 
 us, as in a parable, that a very slight knowledge of the 
 truth as it is in Jesus, if there be faith to apprehend 
 and love to receive and act upon it, may be sufficient 
 
 B 
 
1 8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 to save and restore the soul, — may lead to the greatest 
 and most blessed spiritual results ? Does it not show 
 to us that God tests faith not by a balance, but by a 
 magnet ; that it is not the quantity, but the quality of 
 it, that He values ? 
 
 In its relation to the other miracle which Jesus 
 was on His way to perform, this parenthetic cure 
 teaches us the precious lesson, that even in His move- 
 ment to a given point and a great end, God may be 
 interrupted by the appeal of human necessity. Jesus, 
 who revealed the Father's heart and method of work- 
 ing, shows to us here, by His own conduct, the con- 
 nection of man's wants and longings with the great 
 purposes of God in the administration of the universe. 
 We are accustomed to hear, in these days, that there 
 is nothing in the world but uninterrupted physical 
 causation, ploughing its way remorselessly towards 
 the accomplishment of that far-off event to which 
 the whole creation moves ; that soul is but a function 
 of the brain, and God a metaphor for force ; or that, 
 if there be an Almighty Being, He is so absorbed in 
 . the world that all idea of His Divine personality is 
 destroyed. Students of science tell us that the laws 
 of nature are fixed and unalterable, — that they carry 
 to the end, without any possibility of deviation or 
 interruption, the intentions of God. These laws have 
 
I.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. i 9 
 
 no special word or exclusive look for us, nothing to 
 make us feel that we are present individually, with all 
 our wants and sorrows, before the Infinite Mind. He 
 has chosen to proceed in His dealings with His 
 creatures according to a regular and uniform order, 
 which He does not break, with which He does not 
 interfere, simply because a frail foolish mortal may ask 
 Him to do so. But the revelation of the Bible has 
 been given us for the very purpose of correcting these 
 false notions of God's method of administration. And 
 I believe that one of the great ends which the miracle 
 within a miracle at Capernaum was designed to serve, 
 is just to show to us that prayer has its own place 
 and value in this great system of law and order, 
 and that human need can turn aside to itself the 
 Power that is carrying on the general work of the 
 world. He who stood still on the road from Jericho 
 to Jerusalem, and though His face was steadfastly set 
 to go up to the cross, there to work out the salvation 
 of mankind, waited until the blind man was brought 
 to Him to be cured ; He who found leisure and tran- 
 quility to perform a beneficent act on the way to 
 Jairus' house, though the business that awaited Him 
 was one of life and death ; was the same who in 
 former times had interrupted the continuous flow of 
 the sea that His people might pass through in safety. 
 
20 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD, [chap. 
 
 and in still older times, when there were no human 
 beings in existence, had made frequent breaks in 
 nature's movements in order that higher creations 
 might be ushered upon the scene. And He is the 
 same now who makes a silence in heaven's choral 
 symphonies to listen to the crying of His children, 
 and rises from His throne of glory, as Stephen saw 
 Him in vision, to help His saints in their extremity, and 
 pauses, as it were, in the mightiest operations of His 
 hands in order to minister to the necessities of the 
 poorest sufferer. We cannot surrender the idea that 
 in this great chronology of the universe, which com- 
 prehends the times and the seasons of all created 
 things, the orbits and revolutions of stars and systems, 
 there are truly " years of the right hand of the most 
 High" for each of us individually, — that in this vast 
 totality of correlated forces and laws, of which we 
 form a part, there are special providences and par- 
 ticular answers to prayer, and proofs which cannot be 
 doubted, that God is thinking of us, not only as present 
 somewhere in the vast whole of His thought, but as 
 individuals known by name, and whom He is person- 
 ally leading out, and healing, and blessing. There 
 is a law in our minds deeper and more unchanging 
 than any physical law, that wars with the inference 
 which some scientific men derive from the direct 
 
i.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 21 
 
 unvaried operations of the universe, that there can 
 be no special movement in nature, or any interruption 
 of its totality. And upon this mysterious something 
 within us that demands the supernatural, and creates 
 a disposition to believe in it — which is as much a 
 part of our spiritual constitution as the habitual belief 
 in nature's regularity itself, is built the motive and 
 encouragement to prayer, and the assurance that our 
 prayer will be heard and answered. God is my 
 Father, and through Christ I know that I am His 
 child — His little child, and knowing little — and that 
 I cannot lay hold, with however trembling a heart, 
 or with however slight and timid a touch, upon the 
 hem of His garment of glory, as it sweeps down to 
 my lowly place from the high altitude of Infinity, 
 without drawing love from His heart and power from 
 His arm, and making Him pause to consider my case, 
 and to lift on me the light of His gracious countenance, 
 just as if there were no more important wants than 
 mine in the whole universe. 
 
 We are apt to look upon the healing of the woman 
 with the issue of blood as an interruption of the 
 history of the raising of the daughter of Jairus ; as a 
 separate and distinct incident altogether. But there 
 is in reality the closest connection between the two 
 events. They are brought together by all the Evan- 
 
22 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 gelists, not only because they occurred at the same 
 time and in the same association, but because they 
 mutually help to explain one another. If we put 
 them together, like the two pictures in a stereoscopic 
 slide, we shall have a better idea of the wonderful 
 unity and harmony of the whole narrative. The two 
 miracles fit in a striking way into each other. The 
 beginning of the woman's plague was coeval with 
 the maiden's birth. The one had suffered for twelve 
 years before she was made whole, the other had 
 lived twelve years when she fell asleep in death to 
 awake to a new life. And is not the character of 
 Jairus brought out clearly in contrast, with that of the 
 woman ? We see the stronger faith of the woman, con- 
 tent with only the minimum of means, with the re- 
 motest and slightest contact with Jesus, believing that 
 the very hem of His garment had power to heal ; and 
 the weaker, more irresolute, faith of Jairus, which 
 needed personal recognition and the support of sym- 
 pathising words, and demanded that Jesus should visit 
 his daughter, and could not compass the thought that 
 He could heal at a distance, and restore when the 
 vital spark had fled. Indeed, we observe in the woman 
 a peculiar energy, not only of faith, but of character, as 
 shown by the resoluteness of her striving after a cure 
 for twelve years, and spending all her means in the 
 
I.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 23 
 
 attempt, and her exertion in forcing her way to the 
 person of Jesus ; an energy which we do not find in 
 Jairus. We see the profound humility and shrinking 
 modesty of the woman, coming up unobserved behind 
 Christ in the crowd, and wishing to glide away silent 
 as a shadow unknown and unnoticed; and the ostenta- 
 tion of Jairus, coming openly to Christ in the face of 
 the crowd, and uttering his petition in the hearing of 
 all, having messengers sent to him, and having hired 
 mourners in his house making a loud lamentation 
 for the dead, although much of this of course was 
 rendered necessary by the different nature of his 
 trouble. Jairus needed the discipline of the woman's 
 cure. It prepared him for the miracle that was about 
 to be wrought for himself. It strengthened his faith, 
 it tried his patience, it made him less selfish; and 
 seeing the wondrous effect produced upon the woman 
 by the mere touch of Christ's garment, it kindled a 
 hope that a greater thing would be done for himself by 
 the touch of Jesus' hand and the sound of His voice. 
 And it taught him the great lesson which every human 
 being needs to learn, that the blessings of Divine grace, 
 whether as regards the soul or body, are not individual, 
 but social, — that no man can be saved exclusively, but 
 his salvation is bound up in that of others. 
 
 But, whatever effect the miracle might have pro- 
 
24 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 duced upon him, the delay which it involved must 
 have been a sore trial to the anxious father, when 
 every moment was precious, and the time when all 
 action, as he thought, would be unavailable was fast 
 passing away. Think of the house of mourning during 
 this tarrying ; for doubtless Jairus had told his wife of 
 his intention to seek the help of Jesus ! Can we not 
 recall in our own experience something of what the 
 anxious mother must have been feeling, while death 
 was shaking the last few sands in the hour-glass of her 
 daughter's life, and no help was near ? Do we not all 
 remember a time of despair when we wrestled with 
 death for the possession of our beloved, and strove 
 with all our might to retain the fleeting breath, so 
 inexpressibly dear; when we tried in turn each ex- 
 pedient we could think of to arrest the inevitable 
 doom, only to abandon it immediately as useless — 
 crushed by the sense of our own impotency and of 
 the sense of what was coming upon us, and stung almost 
 into impious outcries against Providence ? Oh ! life 
 has no such awful experience as the agony of those 
 moments when we watch for the physician, upon 
 whom our last hope is fixed, and he cometh not; 
 and every minute of suspense seems like an age 
 of misery. Jesus tarried while this distress was 
 running on, and tried the faith of father and mother, 
 
I.] JAIRVS* DAUGHTER. 25 
 
 just as He tried the faith of the sisters of Lazarus, 
 when they beheld their beloved brother drawing near 
 to the grave, and still no word of the Lord for whom 
 they had sent. The delay was in the plan of His 
 lovingkindness, and essential to its full development. 
 It formed part of the preparation He was making to 
 give the parents a plenteous redemption, — to bless them 
 according to the fulness of His own loving heart. The 
 string was tuned to its tightest tension, that it might 
 sound the true note of heavenly music when Christ's 
 miraculous finger should touch it. There was dis- 
 cipline in waiting; and Jairus doubtless found after- 
 wards that only those who have been alone days and 
 nights with deepest sorrow are capable of experiencing 
 joy of the loftiest kind. 
 
 The narrative reveals to us no sign of impatience on 
 the part of the father. However great the trial, he 
 kept it to himself. The dull, heavy, constant pain in 
 his heart made him silent, after the first wild burst in 
 which he had poured out all the longing and sorrow of 
 his soul. But, while Jesus was yet speaking to the 
 woman, there came messengers from the ruler of the 
 synagogue's house, saying to him, " Thy daughter is 
 dead; why troublest thou the Master any further?" 
 They believed that it was too late now to do any 
 good. There was no use in Jesus fatiguing Himself 
 
26 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 with a journey which could only end in bitter dis- 
 appointment. They believed that Jesus could save 
 from death, but they could not rise to the higher faith 
 that He could save in death. He could fan, they 
 knew, from the analogy of other miracles which He 
 had wrought, the last expiring embers of life into a 
 flame \ but they had no foundation for expecting that 
 He could rekindle the spark of life when it had gone 
 out in darkness altogether. And J aims would have 
 shared their hopelessness had not Jesus interfered 
 before nature gave way. As soon as the dreadful 
 tidings of his bereavement came, and before any 
 doubts could arise in his heart, the preventing mercies 
 of Jesus preoccupied him. Just as He stretched out 
 His hand to Peter amid the wild waters of Gennesaret, 
 so here the Master stretched out His almighty arm 
 to uphold the poor father as he was sinking in the 
 pitiless calamity, and all its bitter waves were about to 
 close over him. "Fear not, only believe, and she 
 shall live." In His anxiety to prevent the extinction 
 of that faith, without which the miracle of restoration 
 could not be wrought, He fulfilled the words of the 
 prophet, " And it shall come to pass, before they call 
 I will answer, and while they are yet speaking I will 
 hear." And does not this anticipating of the paralysing 
 effect of the tidings upon the father, and preventing it 
 
I.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 27 
 
 beforehand by a word of confidence and encourage- 
 ment, rebuke the thoughts we sometimes cherish of 
 God, as if He were a jealous oriental despot, one who 
 must have all His titles of honour or He will not hear 
 us, His full tale of importunity or He will not answer ? 
 It is not when we pour out our souls in strong crying 
 and tears that His interest in us and work for us begins. 
 It is before we have realised our need, and when 
 we know nothing of the help which He brings, that 
 He comes by all the agencies of His love to heal and 
 comfort us. It was when Adam hid himself from God 
 that God sought him ; it was Jehovah Himself who, 
 when He saw us ruined and undone by sin, devised 
 means whereby His banished ones might be brought 
 back to Him. The marvellous plan of mercy sprung 
 from His own bosom; and this not only before re- 
 pentance or sorrow for sin had been displayed by 
 man, but even before he fell. And this prrcc?iting 
 mercy of God, which is so precious a feature in the 
 salvation of the Gospel, is a most comforting and sup- 
 porting element in all the trials of life. As soon as 
 the tidings of woe come, so soon does the Comforter 
 graciously preoccupy our minds and hearts with the 
 consolations of grace. Did Jairus believe the words 
 of hope ? Did he trust in the Power he had besought 
 to help him in his extremity ? We do not know ; per- 
 
28 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 haps he himself did not know. He was stunned for 
 the moment by the blow that had fallen upon him ; or 
 he was in that painful state of conflict in which the 
 mind, still cherishing some prospect of deliverance, 
 cannot on that account fully arm itself with patience, 
 nor centre itself in submission. The throbbings and 
 pulsations of a feverish hope disturb the calm effects 
 which one absorbing object, however distressing : — 
 which the acquiescence in his daughter's death — would 
 naturally have produced. But Jesus left His words, 
 like seeds of hope, to germinate and develop their 
 fulness of meaning in his heart, as silently they hurried 
 on together towards the darkened home. 
 
 Steinmeyer places at this point our Lord's full recog- 
 nition of what He had to do in this case. It was 
 merely to cure a sick child that He had set out on 
 His journey. He had not intended to raise the 
 daughter of Jairus from the dead, but to preserve her 
 from dying. He did not here, as in the case of 
 Lazarus, in which the glory of God was to be specially 
 shown by a raising from the dead, deliberately put off 
 His departure until death had actually occurred ; for 
 an awakening from the dead was not, as then, His 
 aim and end in the present case. He accompanied 
 the father at once, when He was told of the serious 
 illness of his daughter ; and He did not intentionally 
 
I.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 29 
 
 linger on the way ; the delay that occurred being un- 
 avoidable, caused by a cure which was in a manner 
 thrust upon Jesus, and could not therefore be post- 
 poned. But, owing to this delay, the deadly sickness 
 of the child proved unto death. Being what He was, 
 it is obvious that He could not turn back at this stage, 
 and disappoint the hopes which He had raised, and 
 leave the poor father in his despair, lifted up by 
 expectation only to be cast down into a deeper abyss 
 of gloom than before. He could not acknowledge 
 that His power was limited by death, as the father 
 and the messengers supposed. He had come to give 
 help, and He could not be prevented from doing so 
 by any hindrance, not even by the greatest. What 
 He had resolved upon and promised should be carried 
 through, even though death itself stood in the way. 
 This, then, was the motive which constrained Him to 
 perform the miracle. His raising of the dead was 
 not an arbitrary, capricious act. It was extremely 
 rare ; and in each case He had the most powerfully 
 constraining motives to induce Him to perform it. 
 We see in the present example the full nature of the 
 necessity laid upon Him. We see how naturally, by 
 the very force of circumstances themselves, the su- 
 preme miracle was the direct consequence of His 
 previously declared readiness to perform the inferior 
 
3 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 cure. And we have in this circumstance itself a most 
 beautiful and convincing proof of the genuineness of 
 the miracle. 
 
 Hitherto Jesus had allowed the multitude to ac- 
 company Him. Their presence did not disturb the 
 serene composure of His spirit; and it was provi- 
 dentially appointed as one of the mechanical con- 
 ditions for drawing out the faith of the woman with 
 the issue of blood, giving an opportunity for its 
 practical exercise, and thus leading to her wonderful 
 cure. But now, when the messengers reported the 
 death of Jairus' daughter, and He knew that the work 
 before Him was not a curing of the sick but a raising 
 of the dead, He suffered no man to follow Him. St. 
 Mark tells us that He dismissed the multitude im- 
 mediately after the sad tidings came to Him ; and we 
 infer that He walked the remaining distance to the 
 house accompanied only by the father and the mes- 
 sengers and His own disciples. The nature of the 
 work before Him required that it should be done in 
 a stillness, with which the presence of a rude crowd 
 would have been incompatible \ and, with a thought- 
 ful consideration for what was becoming to the occa- 
 sion, He would not bring a multitude of strangers, 
 moved only by curiosity, even to the outside of the 
 house of death. 
 
i.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 31 
 
 When they reached the house, they found it full of 
 hired minstrels and neighbours who had come in to 
 join them, who were all beating upon their breast and 
 wailing and lamenting the dead. The most marked 
 feature of Oriental mourning was its studied publicity. 
 There was none of that sacred reticence and solemn 
 retirement which characterise the usages of western 
 and modern nations. All the ceremonies appropriate 
 to the occasion were carefully prescribed and ob- 
 served ; and their observance often made the house of 
 mourning a scene of tumult and uproar. This osten- 
 tatious mercenary grief was peculiarly distasteful to 
 Jesus. He rebuked it, and said, " Why make ye this 
 ado, and weep ? " Xot that the expression of sorrow 
 was in itself unwarrantable, or that He would have us 
 refuse to weep with those that weep \ far otherwise ; 
 but the loud demonstrative grief of the friends, and the 
 affected mechanical lamentation of the hired mourners, 
 who had no sense of sorrow or loss, disturbed the 
 calm repose and solemn quietness which ought to 
 characterise the house of death. Wishing to be left 
 in peace, He said, " Give place, for the maid is not 
 dead, but sleepeth." Some commentators regard these 
 words as a distinct and explicit declaration that death 
 had not absolutely taken place ; and therefore they do 
 not allow the raising of Jairus' daughter to be num- 
 
32 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 bered among the true miracles of resuscitation from 
 the dead. They look upon the little maid as being 
 only in a deep trance, a species of catalepsy in which 
 life had descended to the lowest point \ and they con- 
 sequently regard the miracle as only a healing of the 
 deadly disease which had thrown her into this death- 
 like sleep. There were no external signs, indeed, to 
 indicate that she was still alive ; all breath and motion 
 had ceased ; all the vital functions seemed suspended ; 
 but Jesus knew that in her case the real moment of 
 death, which man can never ascertain, had not yet 
 arrived. And this knowledge, which He possessed 
 both before He came to the house and while in it, 
 and to which He gave expression in the words, " She 
 is not dead, but sleepeth," constituted the principal 
 miraculous element in the act of restoration. To this 
 gratuitous assumption, however, the whole force of the 
 narrative, as it appears to me, is opposed. Those who 
 put it forward declare that they do so as the only 
 escape from attributing to Jesus a manifest untruth, if 
 He said that the daughter of Jairus was only sleeping 
 while she was actually dead. But, by seeking to clear 
 Him from that supposed falsehood, they virtually im- 
 pute to Him a series of falsehoods. They vindicate 
 the truth of His lips, in a single expression, by im- 
 pugning the truth and consistency of His whole char- 
 
i.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 33 
 
 acter and conduct. What did His word of encourage- 
 ment to the father, when the tidings came to him that 
 the spirit of his child had fled, imply, if the maiden 
 was not actually dead ? Was it not based upon the 
 certainty of that death ? Would He have left Jairus 
 to suppose that his daughter was dead if she was all 
 the time alive? Would He have comforted him as 
 one who is in bitterness for an only child, if his 
 daughter was only in a death-like asphyxia, from which 
 she might speedily awaken? Had Jesus known that 
 the child's life was still lingering in the socket, and 
 yet concealed the fact, and spoken to Jairus in words 
 that took for granted her death, and summoned him 
 to put his trust in that Almighty Power to whom the 
 issues from death belonged, He must have been guilty 
 of a species of subterfuge or prevarication, the thought 
 of which we cannot for a moment entertain regarding 
 Him who was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate 
 from sinners. As for the difficulty supposed to be 
 involved in the words " She is not dead, but sleepeth," 
 it will vanish at once when looked at from the proper 
 point of view. These words were not meant to be 
 understood literally. They are in entire harmony with 
 the words which He afterwards uses regarding Lazarus, 
 when he was not only dead but buried, and with the 
 poetical ideas regarding death as a sleep in common 
 c 
 
34 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 use among all nations. Our Lord did not deny that 
 the maiden was really dead ; but He intimated that as 
 the awakening in the morning follows the sleep of the 
 night, so this death would be followed by an im- 
 mediate resurrection. The little maiden was only 
 sleeping so far as the issue was concerned, for she 
 would be speedily aroused. And He who was about 
 to raise her, and whose intention must ever be re- 
 garded as equivalent to an accomplished fact, would 
 not call her brief visit to the silent land by the dark 
 awful name of death, but by the sweet name of a 
 slumber. Sleep is but a brief death, less deep, and 
 the world of dreams is but a less happy heaven. Be- 
 sides all this, it is distinctly said by St. Luke that 
 "her spirit came again,'' when Jesus restored her — 
 words which obviously necessitate the previous fact 
 that an absolute separation between soul and body 
 had taken place. They are precisely the same words 
 as those used regarding the resuscitation of the widow 
 of Zarephath's son, which no worthy commentator 
 hesitates to believe was an actual raising from the 
 dead. 
 
 Spinosa, the celebrated philosopher, said that if the 
 reality of the miracle of raising Lazarus from the 
 grave could be demonstrated, he would abandon his 
 unbelief and become a Christian. But the reality 
 
I.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 
 
 of the miracle cannot be proved by the kind of 
 evidence which he demanded. If any keen-e 
 critic were to examine the proofs of the miracle of 
 the restoration of Jairus' daughter, as the Evangelists 
 have recorded it, and were to come to the conclusion 
 that, as far as we are enabled to judge, there was 
 nothing in it that might not have been accomplished 
 by any ordinary physician; that it was simply tht 
 restoration of a case of catalepsy such as not tin- 
 frequently occurs in ordinary experience, in which 
 there was a remarkable coincidence between the words 
 of Christ and the natural termination of the trance ; 
 that there was no such testing of the reality of death 
 and of the whole process of resuscitation such as the 
 scientific men of this day would apply, and that 
 therefore this incident is a very insufficient basis upon 
 which to build the supernatural claims of Christ or 
 our own hopes of victory over death; it would be 
 reasonable to admit that all this is true. Our Lord 
 did not on this occasion give the proofs which un- 
 belief or even honest science might have asked. It 
 would have been very easy for Him in the presence 
 of the bystanders, first to put beyond the possibility 
 of doubt the fact that the little maiden was dead, 
 and then to go on to perform the miracle in such 
 a way as to produce irresistible conviction. But 
 
36 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 nothing of the sort was done. The conduct of Jesus 
 on this and all occasions of a similar kind was not 
 that of one making supernatural pretensions, and sub- 
 mitting them to the rigid investigation of the in- 
 credulous. He did not present Himself to men as 
 a mere miracle-worker desiring to have his claims 
 investigated, and there is no attempt made by Him 
 to use His miracles as evidence after our fashion. 
 He spoke with authority to the hearts and consciences 
 of men, and claimed a spiritual faith and obedience. 
 In no case can we deal with the miracles of Christ 
 as we should deal with the more evident forces of 
 the material world, making experiments upon them 
 with the necessary scientific precautions, testing them, 
 measuring them, and tabulating their results. We 
 can never get such proof as that ; and in the miracle 
 before iis, as in all the miracles, we are left to feel 
 that the best guarantee we can have of good faith 
 is to be found in the perfect character of our Lord 
 Himself. We believe in His own Divine truthfulness 
 and candour first, and then we believe in His works, 
 however astonishing, for His sake. And surely in the 
 case of J aims' daughter everything is so transparently 
 simple and open, so perfectly consistent with what 
 we know of Christ's holiness, wisdom, and love, that 
 we cannot possibly come to any other conclusion 
 
I.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 
 
 than that which is expressed in the belief of all the 
 Christian ages, that this was indeed a genuine example 
 of restoration from death. 
 
 The words of Jesus, " Why make ye this ado and 
 weep, she is not dead, but sleepeth," seemed to have 
 had a twofold purpose to serve. They were meant 
 to strengthen the hope and encourage the faith of 
 the father, which were ready to die when all the 
 dread sights and sounds of woe in his house made 
 real to him the loss which before he had only half- 
 believed. Jesus uses over again His former words 
 of encouragement in a new form suited to the altered 
 circumstances. He said at a distance, " Be not afraid, 
 only believe," but now, in the presence of death, He 
 says, "She is not dead, but sleepeth." He takes away 
 the word of despair, and substitutes the word of hope. 
 This death is a Shechinah cloud; it is a pillar of 
 darkness to sense, but a pillar of light to faith ; 
 and, if only his tottering faith can hold on for a few 
 minutes longer, the Shechinah cloud will disclose to 
 him its heavenly brightness, and the shadow of death 
 will be turned into the morning. And the same 
 gracious words were also designed to test the spiritual 
 susceptibility of the people in the house. Veiling 
 His intention in a phrase capable of a double signifi- 
 cation, He would prove them whether they had dis- 
 
38 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 cernment enough to penetrate His purpose, and faith 
 enough to believe in His power to raise the dead ; 
 and were thus worthy to behold a wonder which 
 could only be revealed to the meek and the spiritually- 
 minded. Whether Jairus was comforted by the words, 
 we know not, but they failed to produce the proper 
 impression upon the crowd of turbulent mourners. 
 They were to them words of utter foolishness. They 
 knew that the maiden was dead; their presence in 
 the house was a proof of that fact which could not 
 be gainsaid ; and who was this unknown and pre- 
 sumptuous stranger who dared to insinuate that they 
 were mistaken, that they were practising a deceit or 
 a mockery, and keeping up a mere empty ceremony ? 
 " They laughed him to scorn." 
 
 He who had calmed the wild waves in their greatest 
 fury by His will a short time before, could not hush 
 the boisterous grief or the swelling unbelief of human 
 hearts that had no hope. The senseless waves yielded 
 instant homage to Him, but the souls whom He had 
 made rose up in rebellion against Him, and disowned 
 His power, and ridiculed His words. And, therefore, 
 as He cast out those who profaned the temple by 
 their unhallowed traffic, so He now cast out those who 
 profaned the house of sorrow by their hired lamenta- 
 tions and sordid sympathy. They were out of keep- 
 
i.] JA1RUS* DAUGHTER. 39 
 
 ing with a place which was soon to be a scene of life 
 and not death; they were unworthy to witness the 
 awful and holy mystery which was about to happen. 
 Had they not laughed the Lord of Life to scorn, they 
 might have been permitted to behold a sight, which 
 would have enabled them to laugh death to scorn 
 when their own time came to die. But they had none 
 of the true tone and temper which became the trans- 
 cendent revelation; and therefore Jesus put them all 
 out, and restored appropriate quietness and silence to 
 the chamber of death. He suffered none to go in 
 with Him, save the father and mother of the maiden 
 and three of His disciples, Peter, James, and John; 
 the same three who on more than one later occasion 
 were elected, on account of their stronger faith and 
 more devoted love, to be witnesses of things concealed 
 from the others. Jesus had now entered upon a new 
 era of more wonderful manifestations of sorrow and 
 joy, of which this miracle of restoration from the dead 
 was the first and typical incident: and, for those 
 revelations of higher mysteries, only the disciples who 
 were in closest communion with Him, and who had 
 imbibed most of His spirit, were fitted. Not to the 
 general band even of those who had forsaken all and 
 followed Him, but to the election within the election, 
 did He make known the exceeding riches of His 
 
4 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 power and grace. Only to those who. stood nearest 
 to the passive object and the active subject, who had 
 the dearest interest in the dead child and the living 
 Saviour ; only to the parents and the three most loving 
 of all the disciples was the wonderful revelation given. 
 To those whom He thus selected to accompany Him 
 into the room where the dead maiden lay, He im- 
 parted something of His own calmness and serenity 
 of demeanour; and the quiet self-possession of His 
 spirit, combined with the sympathising kindness of 
 His manner, and His well-known reputation for power 
 and wisdom, must have helped to reassure the failing 
 hearts of those whom He came to comfort, and to 
 make them feel that they stood in the presence of One 
 able and willing to save to the uttermost. 
 
 This exclusion of the false, hired mourners, who had 
 presumed to ridicule Him, and His selection of the 
 true mourners, who had reverenced Him — the parents 
 of the dead child and the three disciples most dis- 
 tinguished for the fervour and silent depth of their 
 character — shows how consistently Christ acted upon 
 His own advice, not to give that which is holy unto 
 dogs, nor to cast pearls before swine. His conduct in 
 the house of Jairus was of a piece with His conduct 
 at Nazareth, where He would not do many mighty 
 works on account of the unbelief of the inhabitants, 
 
L] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 41 
 
 and with His silence before Pilate, who asked Him 
 questions out of mere curiosity, and who, had He 
 answered him, would have laughed at the solemn 
 sanctions of His faith as the mere vulgar ethics of a 
 Xazarene. And it teaches us the needed lesson that 
 the sublime truths of our religion, and the sacred ex- 
 periences of our individual Christian life, are not to 
 be presented rashly and indiscriminately, or pro- 
 claimed to the sensual and the profane, when it is 
 evident that no effect will be produced but to excite 
 their scorn and contempt. The prevalent feeling that 
 religious truth should be published everywhere, and 
 before all, without regarding the suitableness of time 
 and place and audience, is at variance with the dignity 
 of the Gospel and the example of Christ. We are 
 indeed commanded to preach the Gospel to every 
 creature, and to be instant in season and out of 
 season; but we are at the same time enjoined to turn 
 away from those who show themselves unmistakeably 
 to be blasphemers and despisers, who would use the 
 things that are dearest and most sacred to our hearts 
 to give point to an unhallowed jest, or force to an 
 imprecation. Every Christian is placed in circum- 
 stances in which he can only take with him a select 
 few. who have the teachable spirit which gives the 
 promise of the seed being received into honest and 
 
42 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 good hearts, into the holy place where He reveals 
 the deep things of God \ and must shut the door 
 upon those who, by a fixed course of bold and daring 
 blasphemy, or by a brutal sensuality, have hardened 
 themselves against the entrance of the truth. The 
 Church cuts off from its communion those whose 
 impenitent wickedness would profane its holy sacra- 
 ments. We are not, indeed, to exclude unrenewed- 
 ness of heart, or the mere opposition of the natural 
 mind to religion ; for in that case we should never 
 proclaim the Gospel to any mixed assembly at all ; 
 and that state may be repented of, and such persons 
 be converted and saved. But we have no right, 
 for the sake of any hypothetical or improbable issue 
 of good, to fling the Gospel again at the feet of 
 those who have already received it only to pollute it, 
 as dogs would the holy sacrifices of the temple, or to 
 trample it under foot as swine would pearls. And if 
 this rejection of the persistent scoffer and the hardened 
 infidel who will not listen should circumscribe our 
 sphere of labour, there are thousands now perishing 
 for lack of knowledge who will welcome the glad 
 tidings of salvation; and "we shall not have gone 
 over all the field that is open to us legitimately before 
 the Son of Man lias come to summon us from our 
 labours." 
 
L] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 43 
 
 And now Jesus stands beside the bed, whereon 
 reposes the marble-like form of the little maiden, 
 whose fair sunny life death has quenched with his 
 cold kiss. The pale lily-like hands are crossed on 
 the still bosom, and the dark curls cluster motionless 
 around the wasted cheek, like the shadow of a cloud 
 on a wreath of snow. It is a well-known and yet an 
 unknown face, so heavenly beautiful that it seems less 
 like a human corpse than that fair shape in which a 
 dead hope has clothed itself : — 
 
 "Just so young but yesternight, 
 Now she is as old as death ; 
 Much obedient in your sight, 
 Gentle to a look or breath. 
 
 Only on last Monday, yours, 
 Answering you like silver-bells 
 Lightly touched — an hour matures, 
 You can teach her nothing else. 
 
 Cross her quiet hands, and smooth 
 Down her patient locks of silk, 
 Cold and passive as in truth 
 You your ringers in spilt milk 
 
 Drew along a marble floor ; 
 But her lips you cannot wring 
 Into saying a word more, 
 Yes ! or Xo ! — or such a thing. 
 
 Tho* you call and beg and wreak 
 Half your soul out in a shriek, 
 She will lie there in default 
 And most innocent revolt." 
 
44 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 If this be death, then is death the image of sleep, 
 perfect heavenly sleep. Gazing upon such a beloved 
 face, on whose lips the departing spirit has left its 
 smile, we cannot think the thing death. We have 
 a spontaneous, irresistible feeling that the form lying 
 there is not the child or friend that we knew and 
 loved. The old familiar look, the true likeness, it 
 may be, of years ago, that was obliterated by wasting 
 pain and weary illness, has reappeared in perfect calm- 
 ness and ideal beauty, but it does not produce the 
 effect of our loved one's living presence upon us. 
 We have the form unchanged, and every feature of 
 the face the same, but we miss the personality. The 
 visible presence only makes more vivid the sense of 
 actual absence. We had often before watched our 
 beloved ones in sleep or in a swoon, and had seen 
 the eye as firmly closed, and the limbs as motionless, 
 and the breath as imperceptible, and the face as fixed 
 and expressionless ; but we never had the peculiar 
 sensation which we have now. And this indefinable 
 impression that our beloved one is not there, that 
 we are gazing upon a mere relinquished garment, 
 a shrine in which service is over, the chanting 
 hushed and the aisle deserted, is an instinct for 
 which we cannot account, but which is universally 
 recognized, and is one of the strongest and most 
 
i.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 45 
 
 satisfactory of all proofs of the life that survives 
 death. 
 
 Through the hushed stillness the wailing of the 
 hired mourners is heard outside, while the mother's 
 head is bowed down on the body of her dead child, 
 and the form of the father is standing near quivering 
 with suppressed sobs. It is a touching sight, familiar, 
 alas ! to all of us, on which the disciples gaze with 
 speechless pity, and which moves to the quick the tender 
 sensibility of Him who best knows what human grief 
 is. There is a solemn pause. Jesus stands, where we 
 have often stood, absorbed in thought, looking down 
 upon the face of the dead. He knows the secrets 
 of death : and perhaps He felt for a moment reluctant 
 to call the child back to the sufferings and changes 
 of earth, when her spirit had landed safely on the 
 eternal shore. But the occasion is too solemn for 
 speculation, and the halo of Divine holiness around the 
 Saviour's brow forbids us to form conjectures regard- 
 ing what is passing through His mind. Slowly He 
 takes in His own the unresisting hand of the maiden, 
 so pathetic in its transparent thinness ; while the grief- 
 struck parents are hushed into a strange expectant 
 awe. He does not shrink from touching the dead, 
 although such contact was forbidden by the Jewish 
 law, and entailed upon the transgressor ceremonial 
 
46 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 death and exclusion from the fellowship of the living. 
 In this incident we see represented the immense dif- 
 ference between the acts of Christ as a Creator and 
 a Redeemer. He created the world by a word. He 
 said from His sublime elevation above all the works 
 of His hands, " Let there be light." But as the 
 Redeemer of the lost world, He had to come into 
 closest contact with the works of His hands ; He had 
 to assume the nature which He had formed, to be 
 made under the law which He had given, to incur 
 the penalty which He had imposed. He had to take 
 the dead body of humanity by the hand, and die 
 in doing so the shameful and painful death of the 
 cross, before He could restore it to spiritual and 
 eternal life. And we must further consider the taking 
 of the damsel by the hand as an outward symbolical 
 act, indicating that only by the inward spiritual union 
 of faith between the soul and Christ can His life 
 overcome its death. We must come into personal 
 individual contact with Jesus. We must touch Him, 
 else He will not cleanse our impurity and heal our 
 disease. He must touch us, else our death will not 
 be changed into everlasting life. 
 
 Very tender is the word in which Jesus addresses 
 the dead child, as if she were still living. St. Mark 
 alone records the original Aramaic expression, "Talitha 
 
i.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 47 
 
 cumi," which had doubtless been indelibly impressed 
 upon the memory of St. Peter, from whom St. Mark, 
 who was his special friend and companion, must have 
 obtained it. And the original expression is recorded, 
 because it cannot be translated without losing much 
 of its charm and significance. It contains a term 
 of endearment derived from a Syrian word signify- 
 ing "lamb," often applied by fond parents to their 
 children. It is as if the Good Shepherd had said, 
 in bringing back in His bosom to the fold of the 
 living, this lost lamb that had wandered into the 
 land of forgetfulness, . " My little lamb, I say unto 
 thee, arise." It was no mere magic formula, no 
 incantation of a magician, but the fond, loving, pitiful 
 word of One whose human heart was touched by the 
 sight of so much innocence, that looked like one of 
 the angels of His own heaven, and wrung with grief 
 that so much hope and beauty should have been 
 blighted so early by the destroyer. It is like the 
 endearing untranslatable word " Abba," by which the 
 believer expresses to his Heavenly Father his child- 
 like love and confidence. And how sweet is the 
 thought that we can sound with our own sinful and 
 polluted lips the very same beautiful words, which fell 
 so softly and tenderly from the Saviour's holy lips 
 beside the youthful dead. By that word of love, 
 
48 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 and that touch of power, the spirit is re-called from 
 the everlasting spring, and the hills of myrrh, to the 
 forsaken tabernacle. The wave of life rushes back 
 to the quiet heart, the pulse is set beating anew; 
 a warm glow diffuses itself through the frame and 
 mantles on the cheeks and lips. Through the soft 
 eyes unsealed and vivified the soul looks out in innocent 
 wonder, and the fair form becomes instinct once more 
 with life and health. She rises from her couch as 
 from a profound dreamless sleep, in mute astonish- 
 ment at the strange scene around her. All the 
 feebleness of her illness is gone, for St. Mark informs 
 us that she not only arose, but walked; the whole 
 marvellous scene, with all its details, living after long 
 years in the mind of the eye-witness, who told him 
 the story. The old life, with all its familiar associa- 
 tions and memories, is linked on with the new, and 
 the dread mysterious interval is unknown or forgotten. 
 The sun of her life — as happens in the natural world 
 on the borders of the arctic regions in summer — just 
 dipped* below the horizon for a little, and then rose 
 again ; and dawn and sunset shone in the same sky. 
 
 It was an unparalleled display of Divine power, and 
 our Saviour might have retired immediately in the 
 glory of the miracle, leaving an after-glow of over- 
 whelming astonishment and awe behind Him. But 
 
i.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 49 
 
 no ! the compassionate Jesus showed not only Divine 
 power in raising the dead, but also human sympathy 
 with the weakness of the living. He who was touched 
 with a fellow-feeling of our infirmities, who hungered 
 after His long fast in the wilderness, and thirsted in 
 the sultry noon beside Sychar's well, knew that the 
 frail young form which He had restored to life was 
 exhausted with long abstinence ; that food, for which 
 after recovery from fever there is an inordinate craving, 
 was necessary to nourish and strengthen the emaciated 
 body. His watchful eye saw the feebleness of nature, 
 and His tender heart prompted the relief, " He com- 
 manded to give her meat." He did not leave this 
 duty to the unassisted prompting of natural affection, 
 not even to the fine and delicate instincts of a mother's 
 love. Carried away by the first impulses of astonish- 
 ment and delight at thus unexpectedly receiving their 
 lost treasure back from those gates of death, which 
 they had never before seen opening outwards, they 
 might have forgotten such a humble and common- 
 place necessity as the allaying of hunger. In the 
 presence of such a great joy irradiating heaven and 
 earth for them, the ordinary wants of life might appear 
 insignificant and incongruous. Who could think of 
 descending from so great an altitude of wonder and 
 rapture all at once to the preparing and serving of 
 
 D 
 
5 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 meat? And yet here, in what might seem the anti- 
 climax of the miracle, we see most strikingly displayed 
 the key-stone that completes it ; we see the superiority 
 of the Saviour's love over man's love, its wonderful 
 thoroughness and minuteness. It is perfect love. It 
 can not only die on the cross for the beloved object, 
 but it can stoop to wash its feet. It can not only 
 work a stupendous miracle in its behalf, but also 
 enter into its humblest bodily wants. And it is this 
 exquisite blending of the Divine and the human, 
 of the great and the little, in His love that makes 
 Him just the Friend and the Saviour that we need. 
 
 His conduct on this occasion is typical of all that 
 He does in creation, providence, and redemption. 
 He does not deal in generalities \ He does not regard 
 things merely in the mass, and on a grand scale, but 
 condescends to the smallest and most insignificant 
 details. He not only decks the sky with all the 
 glories of sunrise and sunset, and the starry splendours 
 of midnight ; but also paints with richest beauty the 
 smallest flower that blushes unseen in the desert. Not 
 only does He clothe the monarch mountain that rises 
 nearest to heaven with a regal robe of purple light ; 
 but He also makes a scene of enchantment, by the 
 combination of a few simple elements, in the deepest 
 recess of the wood or the loneliest nook of the valley. 
 
i.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 51 
 
 From the eagle whose shadow falls like a cloud upon 
 the Alpine height, to the blazoned butterfly that hovers 
 like a winged blossom over a wild flower ; from man. 
 the head of creation and heir of all the ages, to the 
 minutest animalcule to which a drop of water is a 
 crystalline world, we find in every link of that great 
 life-series the most abundant and wonderful proofs 
 of God's particular attention to the least of His works. 
 We hear it said that the Almighty is concerned in the 
 grander affairs of the world — the revolutions of the 
 globe, the destinies of nations and empires — while the 
 more local and personal events are regarded as mere 
 accidents and chances that fall beyond the province 
 of His control. When shall the Saviour's teaching 
 be regarded as the true and only philosophy — that 
 teaching which shows that great and little have no 
 significance to God, are terms merely relative to man's 
 weakness and finite grasp — that the fall of the sparrow 
 and the numbering of the hairs of our head, the cloth- 
 ing of the grass of the field and the feeding of the 
 fowls of the air, are essential parts of the same scheme 
 which includes the weighing of mountains in scales 
 and the holding of the ocean in the hollow of His 
 hand. Our daily bread comes to us by the motion 
 of the whole universe ; the breeze that fans an infant's 
 cheek is caused by the revolution of the globe ; the 
 
52 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 light of heaven that enables a child to read its lesson- 
 book comes from a distance of millions of miles, and 
 moves at the rate of hundreds of thousands of miles a 
 minute. The mass of the earth is weighed and balanced 
 in order that a lily may bend its head to effect the 
 process of fertilization, and that the blood may flow 
 through our veins, and our lungs play with the vital air. 
 The mightiest and minutest things in God's provi- 
 dence are thus intimately associated and correlated. 
 Throughout the life of Christ, He showed the same 
 attention to the small and minute which we see in 
 His works of nature and providence. Only a very 
 brief portion of His life was spent in working mighty 
 miracles ; by far the largest part of it was lived in 
 obscurity, in the performance of humble duties, and 
 the fulfilment of ordinary ends. On the cross dying 
 for the sins of the whole world, finishing the work 
 which His Father had given Him to do, in the sight 
 of all heaven and earth and hell, He commended 
 His mother, as any earthly son might have done, 
 to the care of the disciple whom He loved. In the 
 grave, when achieving the mightiest of all triumphs 
 — leading captivity captive, and destroying him that 
 had the power of death — He did not forget in the 
 exultation of victory to fold carefully the linen clothes 
 in which His dead body was wrapped — those green 
 
I.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 53 
 
 withs that bound Him in His Samson-like sleep, and 
 which He broke on the morning of His resurrection. 
 as a thread of tow is broken when it touch eth the fire. 
 And, as He acted in His own historical life, so He 
 acts in the individual life of His people. There is 
 nothing that can happen to them that is beneath His 
 regard. He takes a particular interest in their per- 
 sonal history, and in every circumstance connected 
 with it. His covenant not only includes the pardon 
 of their sin and the sanctification of their nature, 
 safety from the terrors of a violated law, rest from 
 the accusations of a guilty conscience, it also makes 
 ample provision for every evil that can possibly befall 
 them. For the aching head, as well as for the accus- 
 ing conscience ; for the weary care-worn mind, as well 
 as for the sin-laden soul, He provides a remedy and 
 a relief. For the hidden want, He provides the 
 hidden manna; for the trials that are unspeakable, 
 he gives the strength of the joy that is unspeakable ; 
 for the crosses that cannot be displayed, and the 
 groanings that cannot be uttered, He gives the peace 
 which passeth all understanding ; for the sorrow with 
 which no stranger can intermeddle, He gives the 
 sympathy and the help of the Friend that sticketh 
 closer than a brother. We do not know Him merely 
 as the patient knows the physician, as the object 
 
54 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 of charity knows the benefactor, as the pupil knows 
 the teacher, by occasional and signal benefits ; but 
 we know Him as the child knows its mother, not 
 only by the life which He has bestowed upon us, and 
 by the tender natural tie which thus binds us to Him, 
 but by the thousand offices of tenderness which He 
 continually performs, by all those kind familiar acts 
 often repeated, which, though little in themselves, 
 imply for that very reason that the agent and the 
 object must unite in close and personal contact, by all 
 the weakness and dependence of the infancy of our 
 spiritual being, hanging upon the bosom of a love that 
 passeth knowledge. To Him who wrought the mighty 
 miracle of our salvation we can go not only in the 
 great trials and crosses of our life, under which we lie 
 paralysed and benumbed, as under a stone that has 
 crushed us \ but also with those fretting cares and 
 petty annoyances and numberless small disappoint- 
 ments and vexations which, like sand in the shoe, 
 irritate and inflame the Christian's daily walk in the 
 world, and wear out by their incessant friction the 
 sparkle from the eye, and the glow from the cheek, 
 and the elasticity from the heart. We can go to Him 
 in prayer, pouring out our whole soul unreservedly, 
 keeping back nothing; not merely asking Him in 
 general terms for general spiritual blessings of which 
 
I.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 55 
 
 at the moment we have no true apprehension, and for 
 which we have no true longing, but asking Him 
 specially for relief and rest from those little carking 
 cares and troubles arising from the various relations of 
 common life, of which our mind is full to the exclusion 
 of more important things, and which sadly interfere 
 with the spirit of devotion which we desire to cherish. 
 The things that bow our head like a bulrush, but 
 which we would not breathe to a fellow-creature for 
 worlds, lest it should excite their ridicule or contempt, 
 we can confide fully and freely to the ear of Him 
 who never turned away from human need, however 
 insignificant, even in His own hour of agony; and 
 who not only raised the daughter of Jairus to life, 
 but commanded meat to be given to her. Do not 
 say that such common things are beneath His notice. 
 Those who are wise in their own eyes may object that 
 it is degrading to the dignity of religion ; and the 
 spiritual in their own esteem may say — It is not for a 
 spiritual man to mention such things : he is or should 
 be above them. But this is not Christ's view of the 
 relation between His children and Himself. " Be 
 careful for nothing" He says, "but in everything, by 
 prayer and supplication, make your requests known 
 unto God." " Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name. 
 that will I do/' The common things of dailv life are 
 
56 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 the aliment on which devotion feeds : and the " circum- 
 stances with which we are surrounded are as fuel and 
 oxygen, supporting the flame of ceaseless prayer which 
 transmutes all substances to itself, and, like the fire 
 upon the altar, presents the whole spirit and soul and 
 body a living sacrifice unto God." 
 
 The command of Jesus to give the restored child meat 
 was intended, we may suppose, to serve several pur- 
 poses ; to supply first a physical want, and in so doing 
 to give clear unmistakeable proof of the reality of the 
 life restored to perfect health, and then to calm the ap- 
 prehensions and the great astonishment of the parents, 
 and to show that the course of nature, though violently 
 interrupted for once, must be resumed according to 
 the usual order. Jesus descended from the region 
 of the supernatural to the region of ordinary life, from 
 the working of a miracle to the satisfying of a common- 
 place want. And by that circumstance He teaches 
 us the important lesson, that the spiritual life which 
 He has imparted by Divine power must be sustained 
 by human means. This is in entire harmony with all 
 His historical dealings with man. The dispensation 
 which was inaugurated by supernatural manifestations 
 is carried on by common helps, and through the homely 
 experiences of human life. The signs and wonders 
 which opened a new era, or were needed to produce 
 
i.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 57 
 
 faith in great emergencies, are not perpetuated in 
 ordinary circumstances. The creation commenced 
 with a stupendous miracle, but it is preserved by 
 the quiet and uniform methods of nature. The law 
 of Moses, which was given amid the thunders and 
 lightnings of Sinai, is put in force throughout the con- 
 tinuous history of Israel by its own solemn sanctions. 
 The Christianity, which first took its place in history 
 by the aid of astonishing works appealing to the 
 senses, now maintains its position by its own unobtrusive 
 spiritual power among a society more deeply moved 
 by spiritual things. The gifts of Divine inspiration, 
 which were shown objectively to men in the tongues 
 of flame and the mighty rushing winds of Pentecost, 
 were discontinued when the formative work of the 
 Holy Ghost in all places, and in all hearts, present 
 in conscious manifestation to all discerning souls, was 
 better known. What is necessary on the stage of 
 initiation disappears from the stage of a fixed in- 
 stitution. The morning glow fades into the common 
 light of day ; the heavenly manna of the desert merges 
 into the corn of the cultivated land. And so is it 
 with our spiritual life individually. The transport 
 of our conversion, when the glory of heaven came 
 down to earth, is not indefinitely continued. Our 
 new life is not maintained and increased by a repeti- 
 
5 8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 tion of the same process by which it was awakened. 
 The extraordinary, appropriate to times of religious 
 excitement, to revival or sacramental seasons, passes 
 into the ordinary experience. Jesus commands us to 
 give ourselves common meat. We are to strengthen 
 and develop the spiritual life that has been produced 
 in us by supernatural power, and quickened by the 
 extraordinary influences of a special season of grace, 
 by the common-place duties of the world, by the 
 labours of our ordinary calling, by human nature's 
 daily food, by the perhaps very unspiritual work that 
 lies nearest to our hand. What is the birth of a 
 remarkable occasion must become the habit of an 
 ordinary life, if it is not to fall away and disappoint 
 expectation. 
 
 "But he charged them that they should tell no 
 man what was done." How different was our Lord's 
 manner towards different individuals ! He said to 
 the demoniac of Gadara a little while before, " Go 
 home to thy friends, and show how great things the 
 Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion 
 on thee." And on the way to the house of Jairus 
 He made the woman whom He cured confess her 
 disease and relief before all the people ; while here, 
 on the contrary, He strictly forbids all mention of 
 the wonderful deliverance. There was a reason for 
 
.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 59 
 
 this difference of treatment, founded not so much 
 upon the circumstances which affected Himself, but 
 upon the peculiarities and moral condition of the 
 persons who got the benefit of His miracles. The 
 True Light that lighteth every man that cometh into 
 the world, gave differently coloured rays according 
 to the nature of the medium through which it was 
 transmitted. We have seen how the faith of the 
 woman with the issue of blood was perfected by con- 
 fession. And there can be no doubt that the command 
 to the demoniac of Gadara to proclaim his cure, must 
 have been in the highest degree beneficial to such 
 a melancholy morbid man, shut up in himself, and 
 shut out from the world, introducing him thus into 
 the society of his fellow-creatures and restoring the 
 healthy condition of his soul ; while those who could 
 not endure the direct teaching of Christ might be 
 influenced by the story of one whose case was so 
 notorious, and who was left behind in all the glow 
 of his gratitude and devotion as Christ's minister and 
 representative. It is not difficult on similar grounds 
 to understand why our Lord should have enjoined 
 silence upon Jairus and his wife. Of course the 
 outward facts of the miracle could not be concealed ; 
 they were known to too many witnesses to render 
 that possible. But it is evident that our Lord referred 
 
6o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 not to the outward circumstances of the raising from 
 the dead, but to its inward nature and spiritual design. 
 The incident is very briefly described, but a thoughtful 
 mind may receive from the description a pretty ac- 
 curate impression of the character of the household. 
 It is true that Jairus had faith, otherwise he would 
 not have sought the help of Jesus, and the miracle 
 would not have been performed ; but it was a faith 
 that needed to be encouraged by sensible evidence, 
 which required that Christ should go to the chamber 
 of his daughter and lay his hands on her ere a cure 
 could be effected, a faith which, when the assurance 
 of her death came to him, Christ had to support by 
 the comforting words, " Be not afraid, only believe." 
 The presence of the hired mourners in the house 
 indicated a love of display, a dependence upon the 
 sympathy of others ; for although a national custom 
 it was not always observed, and in cases of self-con- 
 tained sorrow it was dispensed with as a mockery. 
 While the command to give the restored daughter 
 meat, showed that Christ regarded the parents as 
 persons apt to be carried away by their feelings, to 
 yield to the passing emotion, and thus forget duties 
 of the most vital importance. From these little traits 
 of character that occur in the course of the narrative, 
 we learn enough of the disposition of Jairus and his 
 
i.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 6 1 
 
 wife to satisfy us that the injunction to keep silent 
 regarding the miracle was not unnecessary. They 
 were people in a very prominent position, having 
 many friends and acquaintances; and it is evident 
 that they lived much in society and loved an outward 
 bustling life. They were not meditative and thought- 
 ful, but evidently outspoken, impulsive, and emotional. 
 There was, therefore, great danger to their spiritual 
 welfare, considering their circumstances and tempera- 
 ment from the miracle. Their public position exposed 
 them to the visits of inquisitive friends, eager to hear 
 all the particulars of so wonderful an event ; their 
 own disposition would lead them to speak "of these 
 particulars, to dwell upon each detail ; how Jesus 
 looked, and what He said and did, and how they 
 themselves felt, and how their daughter came to herself 
 and recognised them, and how joyful they were, and 
 so on. And in thus going over again and again all 
 the outward circumstances, the mere story of the 
 miracle, to gratify the curiosity of ever}' friend who 
 called or whom they met, they ran a great risk of 
 losing sight altogether of the deep meaning and per- 
 sonal application of the miracle, and the revelation 
 which it gave of Him who performed it. Thus they 
 would get indeed a temporal benefit, but they would 
 miss the spiritual blessing which Christ designed for 
 
62 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 them. They would have their daughter restored to 
 them, but they would not have the saving knowledge 
 of Him whom to know is eternal life, who is the 
 resurrection and the life to all who believe. To save 
 them from this loss, Jesus, knowing their weakness of 
 character and the temptations to which their circum- 
 stances exposed them, graciously enjoined them to 
 tell no man what was done. He wished them instead 
 of dissipating the good effect of the miracle in mere 
 talk about it, to retire into the silence of their own 
 souls, and there ponder over the matter until they 
 should learn its deep significance, and it should be 
 the means of leading them to a truer knowledge of 
 Him who, by raising the dead body of their daughter 
 to life, gave them a sign of His power to raise their 
 own souls dead in trespasses and sins to newness of 
 life. 
 
 When the miracle of spiritual restoration takes place 
 in a dead soul, the object of it is apt to be carried 
 away by a flood of new emotions. The strange joy in 
 his soul is stirring and manifestive. He long carried 
 a wounded and bleeding conscience without any desire 
 ' to lay open the distress to creature inspection. He 
 sought to elude observation. But, now that his desire 
 is accomplished, he can no longer conceal his emo- 
 tion. He longs to speak of the marvellous deliver- 
 
I.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 6 
 
 3 
 
 ance shown to him; he longs to say, "Come and hear, 
 all ye that fear God, and I will declare what He hath 
 done for my soul." Now, it is a question — To what 
 extent and under what circumstances is the converted 
 sinner to give way to this natural and proper feeling — 
 the desire to publish the miracle of grace wrought 
 upon him. Some would have no hesitation in saying 
 that he should in all circumstances and to the fullest 
 extent give way to it. They quote as an example to 
 be always imitated the case of the Samaritan woman, 
 who, when she discovered the Messiah for herself, 
 immediately left her water-pot and ran and told her 
 fellow-citizens of the discovery; and they speak of 
 being "instant in season and out of season," mis- 
 understanding the meaning and reference of these 
 words. But, if any converted sinner, no matter what 
 his temperament or circumstances may be, is to pro- 
 claim at once the wonderful things that have been 
 done for him, where, we may well ask, is the practical 
 reason and the special application for us in the differ- 
 ence of our Lord's instructions to different people? 
 Surely, if He exercised a wise and righteous dis- 
 crimination in cases that differed, should not we do 
 the same. I believe that the injunction to publish 
 immediately the miracle of grace is not binding upon 
 every one who has experienced it ; that there are indi- 
 
64 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 viduals so situated and so constituted that their plain 
 duty is to be silent in such a crisis ; while I believe 
 that there are other individuals so situated and so 
 constituted whose plain duty and privilege it is to 
 speak out. Take the case of a morbid, brooding, 
 introspective man, who has undergone a saving change. 
 The duty of such a man decidedly is to proclaim to 
 others the great salvation that has come to himself. 
 Jesus would have said to him, as he said to the melan- 
 choly demoniac who had dwelt among the tombs, 
 " Go home to thy friends, and show what great things 
 the Lord hath done for thee." Yielding to his natural 
 disposition, he would conceal the change that had 
 taken place upon him, and brood over it in silence, 
 until, like the miser who feels it difficult to believe 
 that his secretly \ hoarded money, the god of his 
 idolatry, is safe, he finds it hard to realise that he has 
 a saving interest in Christ at all. He becomes alive 
 to every supposition of uncertainty; he is full of 
 doubts and fears, and becomes dull and timid, the 
 prey of changing frames and feelings that make his 
 life miserable, aimless, and practically useless. To 
 such a man anything that would help to take him out 
 of himself would be an inestimable blessing. To ask 
 him to conceal the miracle wrought upon him would 
 be to foster and aggravate the morbid evil within. 
 
I.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 65 
 
 But to enjoin him to go out among his fellow-creatures, 
 to speak to them of the things which he had found so 
 dear and useful to himself, to glory in his choice and 
 own it, and urge others to become partakers of like 
 precious faith, " Oh ! taste and see that God is good," 
 this would be health and vigour and happiness to him. 
 His preaching to others would have a blessed reaction 
 upon his own soul. It would banish all morbid 
 doubts and fears ; it would confirm and strengthen 
 his faith, and make him what God designed every 
 Christian to be — healthy, happy, and useful. 
 
 But, on the other hand, take the case of a man who 
 is gossipy and loquacious, who has no depth of char- 
 acter, no concealment in his nature, but babbles over 
 everything like a brook over its pebbles, what ought 
 such a man to do when the Word of God has come to 
 him in power ? It is clear that to go and publish it to 
 others would be a course fraught with danger to him. 
 He would be inclined to make his conversion a matter 
 of gossip. He would dwell upon its mere outward 
 circumstances. The fact of having such an important 
 event to tell to others would have a tendency to in- 
 crease his own self-consequence; while the publicity 
 and ostentation connected with it would tend to make 
 him value more the outward aspect of his saving 
 change to others than its inward relation to God and 
 
 E 
 
66 THREE RAISINGS PROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 his own soul. Many a young convert has been made 
 vain and conceited and self-righteous through the 
 premature publication to others of his restoration. 
 Many who have flaunted their spiritual change osten- 
 tatiously before the eyes of their fellow-creatures have 
 got irretrievable harm by so doing. They made their 
 religious life a mere outward one — a thing of display, 
 feeling, and excitement. They were tempted to ex- 
 aggerate their emotions, to run ahead both of their 
 knowledge of the Gospel and their experience of its 
 power, to use words that had no meaning, and to 
 express fervours that had nothing corresponding to 
 them in their own hearts. They became insincere 
 and self-sufficient; their religious life became an un- 
 real, conventional, theoretical thing. And the natural 
 consequence of such conduct speedily followed : they 
 backslided, and in their fall not only seriously injured 
 themselves, but also dragged down with them the 
 cause which they so unworthily represented. It would 
 have been far better for such individuals if they had 
 acted upon the injunction of Christ to Jairus, "See 
 thou tell no man ; " if they had hid these things in 
 their heart, meditated upon them in solitude and 
 silence, until their religious character had been suffi- 
 ciently established, their faith in Christ and love to 
 Him sufficiently strengthened, and their knowledge of 
 
i.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 67 
 
 His truth sufficiently deep and extensive to qualify 
 them to speak to others of the great things that Christ 
 had done for their souls. There would be no loss, 
 but, on the contrary, great gain to the cause of Christ, 
 if, in the great majority of cases, those who espoused 
 that cause thought more and spoke less, gave them- 
 selves more to meditation, self-examination, and prayer, 
 than to exhorting others on the strength of a very brief 
 and imperfect experience. 
 
 The Saviour's inj unction to Jairus is capable of very 
 wide application. How many people lose the spiritual 
 benefits of affliction through gossipping about its acci- 
 dents. They are fond of having numerous friends 
 about them to whom they can speak of the trouble. 
 They wish them to come and sympathise or condole 
 with them. They say, " Behold and see all ye that 
 pass by, is there any sorrow like unto my sorrow/' 
 They tell to every new person with whom they come 
 into contact how the trouble happened and how they 
 feel under it. Instead of saying to God, in the still- 
 ness that follows the recognition of His hand in it. 
 " Speak, Lord, for Thy servant heareth," "What dost 
 Thou require me to be, to do, or to suffer for Thy 
 name's sake ? " they speak about the pains and incon- 
 veniences of it to those who will listen to them. In- 
 stead of retiring to solitude and silence, and meditating 
 
68 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 upon the trial in their own hearts, upon God's design 
 in it and their own duty under it, they seek the society 
 of their friends to talk about its mere natural circum- 
 stances. No wonder that affliction in such a case 
 should leave such persons no better than it found 
 them ; that sickness should bring no saving health 
 with it ; disappointment no hope that maketh not 
 ashamed; adversity no lesson of faith or blessing of 
 heaven ; and bereavement no acquaintance with the 
 Friend that sticketh closer than a brother, and who 
 will never change or die. No wonder that so few of 
 the great family of the sorrowful should be really 
 acquainted with grief. They know the outward aspect 
 of it, its dress, its appearance, even its face and 
 manner. But of its inner nature, of the deep things 
 which it reveals, the love that is hidden in it, the 
 blessing which it disguises, the joy that is at the core 
 of it, they know nothing. To learn lessons from 
 affliction that will make our whole future life wiser and 
 stronger, we must obey Christ's injunction, " Tell no 
 man about it," and ponder it in our hearts — make it 
 the subject of secret prayer and meditation. We are 
 not forbidden to seek the sympathy of our friends in 
 our troubles, or to pour out our hearts to them ; for 
 sympathy is sweet, and has a wonderfully soothing 
 power. But what we are forbidden to do is to gossip 
 
I.] JAIRUS' DAUGHTER. 69 
 
 about our trouble, to make it, not the means of 
 humbling us before God, but of exalting us in the 
 estimation of our fellow-creatures, raising us into ob- 
 jects of interest and pity, and thus increasing our self- 
 consequence. For so strangely constituted is the 
 human heart that it will rather glory in its very sorrow 
 than not glory at all ; it will seek food for its vanity 
 and self-importance in what excites the pity of others. 
 We are to hide our sorrow in our heart, until it has 
 accomplished in us the good pleasure of God's good- 
 ness, and the work of faith with power. 
 
 How often is the effect of a solemn sermon neutral- 
 ised by mere talk about it. This is one of the com- 
 monest ways of dissipating salutary impression. The 
 truth as it is in Jesus has been faithfully proclaimed ; 
 the Spirit has been striving to carry it home to the 
 heart and conscience ; but the whole benefit is lost by 
 the gossip at the church door or on the way home. 
 People speak not about the truth proclaimed, but 
 about the method of proclaiming it, the style of com- 
 position, the manner of the preacher ; and in thus 
 dwelling upon the mere external circumstances of the 
 " word in season," they lose sight of its solemn 
 spiritual significance and personal application to them- 
 selves. This is the principal reason why the seed 
 sown does not prosper ; why, in spite of all the lessons 
 
7 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 that are given to us, we do not learn. We have been 
 taught much, and taught by God Himself, and yet we 
 have learned little or nothing, because we have talked 
 all our teaching away. The great want of the present 
 day is quietness and spiritual meditation. There is 
 too much talk and too little thought. And this is the 
 secret of the shallowness of our spiritual life, the little 
 knowledge we have of the truth, and the little influence 
 which it exerts upon us. This is the reason why re- 
 ligion through the life of its professors is so inoperative 
 in the world. It has not sufficiently penetrated into 
 our own being, and become a part of ourselves, 
 through meditation and prayer, to produce an im- 
 pression through us upon others. Mere talk about 
 good things will have no influence without the life 
 which they produce speaking through the words. Let 
 those of. us, then, who are apt to gossip away serious 
 impressions, to evaporate in breath the good out of 
 every sermon and providential dispensation, commune 
 with our own hearts and be still. Let us tell no man 
 about God's dealings with us, till we have thought 
 about them and got the full good out of them our- 
 selves. If God has made us new creatures in Christ 
 Jesus, let us seek by meditation upon our own char- 
 acter, and upon the person and work of Christ — by 
 reading, reflection, and prayer — to be rooted and 
 
i.] JAIRUS* DAUGHTER. 71 
 
 grounded in the Divine love, to make our calling and 
 election sure. If we are afflicted, let us, instead of 
 speaking to others about the outward circumstances of 
 our trial, dwell much in thought about its real nature 
 and design, and seek to have it sanctified to us. If 
 we have been hearing a true and faithful sermon, let 
 us, instead of talking about its mere style and manner, 
 ponder its precious truths in our hearts, and seek to 
 be led by them nearer to Him who is the Truth and 
 the Life. Let our meditations always run in the 
 channel of our condition. Thus shall we have root in 
 ourselves. Thus shall we prepare ourselves for receiv- 
 ing and understanding the messages of God that come 
 to us day by day, and reduce to practice those good 
 and lofty thoughts, those visions of purity and holiness, 
 those ideals of love and unselfishness, which the Spirit 
 of God inspires in us. Thus shall we work out our 
 own salvation, for it is God that worketh in us. In an 
 honest and good heart having heard the Word, we 
 shall keep it and bring forth fruit with patience. Our 
 profiting will appear unto all ; and, in the end, we who 
 kept wise silence and refrained our speech, shall be 
 able from a richer experience and a fuller knowledge, 
 and with greater power and confidence, to recommend 
 the salvation of Jesus to others, and to say with the 
 Apostle, " That which we have heard, which we have 
 
7 2 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [ch. i.] 
 
 seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon and 
 our hands have handled of the Word of Life, declare 
 we unto you, that ye also may have fellowship with us, 
 and truly our fellowship is with the Father and with 
 His Son Jesus Christ." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE RAISING OF THE WIDOW'S SOX. 
 
St. Luke vii. 11-17. 
 
 And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city called Nain : 
 and many of his disciples went with him, and much people. Now, when he 
 came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried 
 out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow : and much people of 
 the city was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on 
 her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came and touched the bier : and 
 they that bare him stood still. And he said, Young man, I say unto thee 
 Arise. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak. And he delivered 
 him to his mother. And there came a fear on all : and they glorified God, 
 saying, That a great prophet is risen up among us ; and, That God hath 
 visited his people. 
 
75 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE RAISING OF THE WIDOW'S SOX. 
 
 O OME places have been made famous by a single 
 incident. Bethany is the town of Lazarus ; and 
 Xain is the village of the widow's son whom Jesus 
 raised from the dead. By no other event is Xain 
 known. For a moment the light of heaven fell upon it, 
 and haloed it with a glory which has attracted the eyes 
 of all the Christian ages, and then it disappeared into 
 its former obscurity. The site of the ancient village 
 is well authenticated; it is occupied by the modern 
 Nein, a squalid miserable collection of huts situated 
 on the north-western edge of Jebel el Duhy, or the 
 " Little Hermon,'' where the hill slopes down into the 
 plain of Esdraelon. No grander view can be found 
 anywhere in Palestine than that which stretches around 
 this village from its green nest on the mountain side ; 
 amply justifying its descriptive name, which is sup- 
 
7 6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 posed to be derived from a Hebrew word signifying 
 beauty or pleasantness. Within the circle of the 
 surrounding hills some of the most stirring events in 
 Old Testament history have occurred. A thousand 
 battles have swept across the wide fertile plain below, 
 which, like the plain of Stirling, situated in like manner 
 at the point of transition between the Highlands and 
 Lowlands, has been chosen as a fitting scene for strife. 
 To the right extends the range of Carmel, on which 
 Elijah discomfited the priests of Baal ; to the left rises 
 up in isolated beauty Mount Tabor, at the base of 
 which Barak overcame the hosts of Sisera; while in 
 front appear the mountains of Gilboa, on which the 
 despairing warrior-king of Israel, amid his vanquished 
 army and slaughtered sons, closed his tragic career. 
 But that noble amphitheatre is not associated ex- 
 clusively with scenes of death and destruction, in 
 which the passions of man furnished a premature prey 
 to the destroyer ; it is also connected with scenes of 
 blessing and restoration more suited to its pastoral 
 beauty and mountain peace. Nor far off is the little 
 village of Shun em, in which Elisha performed, amid 
 the most touching circumstances, the wonderful miracle 
 of raising from the dead the child of his generous 
 hostess. And from the highest point to the west, which 
 frowns over the sea, the first cloud that for three long 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 77 
 
 years had passed across the burning blue of the sky 
 was seen to arise at Elijah's prayer out of the far 
 horizon, no bigger than a man's hand at first, but 
 growing larger and blacker, until the whole heavens 
 were overcast, and the famine-stricken land was once 
 more musical with the sound of falling waters and 
 green with living verdure. In harmony with those 
 gentler memories, but in striking contrast to all the 
 other associations of the region, is the one only in- 
 cident that connects Jesus with the plain of Esdraelon. 
 Lying upon the southern border of Galilee, and on 
 the direct road to Jerusalem, our Lord came to Xain 
 on His way south to keep the Passover in the temple. 
 The day before He had healed the centurion's servant 
 at Capernaum ; and now, after having walked eighteen 
 miles since the cool hours of early morning, He toiled 
 slowly in the afternoon up the steep slope leading to 
 the village. He was doubtless tired and footsore with 
 his long and weary journey, and needed rest and re- 
 freshment. But there was still work for the Father 
 awaiting Him, in the doing of which Lie would find 
 His meat and drink, and have His strength renewed. 
 A crowd attracted by His wonderful sayings and the 
 fame of His miracles followed Him up the rugged 
 ascent. That rough broken path is the same to-day 
 as it was eighteen centuries ago, and is one of the 
 
7 8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 few certain sites of events in the life of Christ; so 
 few, in the wise providence of God, we may well 
 believe, because of the proneness of man to cleave 
 to some visible object of worship, and to pay that 
 adoration to the thing which is due only to Him by 
 whom all things were created. As He drew near 
 the village, whose walls and buildings loomed in a 
 hollow of the heights above Him, the dust of travel 
 whitening His sandals, a long procession of mourners 
 issued out of the gate. They were carrying a dead 
 man to his burial on the east side of the village, 
 where the rough rock was full of sepulchral caves, 
 which still exist. It is probable that the young man 
 had died that very morning ; for burial in an eastern 
 clime followed hard upon the heels of death, and 
 with the Jews took place usually before the first night- 
 fall. However precious the form, it must speedily 
 be veiled from view, for love cannot endure the 
 changes which death has wrought in it. When the 
 sun was setting, therefore, the young man was borne 
 out from his mother's home to the long last home 
 that awaits us all. There was much in the circum- 
 stances of the sad procession which appealed to the 
 sympathetic feelings of man. Indeed it would be 
 difficult to make the picture of desolation more com- 
 plete than the Evangelist has done it by a few simple 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SON. 79 
 
 words : " There was a dead man carried out, the 
 only son of his mother, and she was s a widow." The 
 desire of her eyes had gone before, and left her to 
 maintain the struggle of life single-handed — in grief, 
 perhaps in poverty. And now her only child had been 
 taken away from her, upon whom she leant for support, 
 who was her sole stay and solace. And her home 
 was left unto her desolate, lonely and empty as last 
 year's withered nest in the hedge. 
 
 To a Jewish mother there was an added bitterness 
 in such a bereavement ; for not only was the loss of 
 offspring commonly regarded as a direct punishment 
 for sin among a people who acted the part of Job's 
 comforters and looked upon every trial as a judgment, 
 but to die childless was a terrible calamity, because 
 the parents were, thereby excluded from the hope of 
 a share in the ancestry of the expected Messiah, 
 which every family in Israel cherished. The national 
 feeling on the subject of offspring was very strong. 
 From the time of the promise given to Abraham that 
 in him should all the families of the earth be blessed, 
 the desire of having children became a strong and 
 leading passion in the Jewish mind. The Jewish 
 child was expected to be not only the possessor of 
 his father's earthly wealth and honours, but also the 
 heir of an inheritance incorruptible, undefiled, and that 
 
So THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 fadeth not away. The anticipation of the glorious 
 times which the harp of prophecy has celebrated in 
 such tones of anticipative rapture, called forth the 
 fervent prayer of many in Israel that they might not 
 be cut off from the possibility of sharing by their 
 representatives, if not in the birth of the " Promised 
 Seed," at least in the glories and felicities of His 
 kingdom. To answer this prayer there are numerous 
 instances in Scripture in which God has specially 
 interfered; and the anguish and reproach of barren- 
 ness were no more remembered for joy that a man 
 was born into the world. Ignorant of God's ap- 
 pointed time and way, the widow of Nain had per- 
 haps cherished the fond hope that she might be 
 the chosen channel through whom the Desire of all 
 nations should enter into the world. But now her 
 only son had died childless, and there was none 
 to inherit her name, and no possibility of sharing 
 in the glorious national hope. This gave, we may 
 well believe, a deeper pathos to the mother's 
 natural anguish of bereavement ; and, doubtless, 
 sympathy with it attracted the large concourse of 
 villagers which accompanied the bier to the tomb, 
 and drew from that emotional race a wail of lamen- 
 tation wider and truer than was usually made for the 
 dead. 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SON. Si 
 
 It is interesting here to notice that the three re- 
 corded miracles of restoration from the dead, and 
 the only ones as we believe, were performed upon 
 young persons. The daughter of Jairus was only 
 twelve years of age ; the young man of Nain was 
 probably not many years older; and all that is re- 
 corded of Lazarus leaves the impression upon our 
 minds that he was in the very prime of life. There is 
 a fitness in this circumstance which commends itself 
 to us, and renders it antecedently probable that, as 
 Jesus was so sparing and reserved in these most strik- 
 ing of all the manifestations of His power, He should 
 exercise it only in such cases. To the aged, whose 
 years were but labour and sorrow, and who had lived to 
 say of things they once enjoyed, " there is no pleasure 
 in them," restoration of life after death would have 
 been no boon. And therefore Jesus did not renew 
 any life that had found, or nearly so, its end at the 
 limit set to man \ never awoke the aged from the last 
 sleep to live over again the trials and privations from 
 which they had escaped. Such miracles would have 
 seemed to us monstrous and unnatural ; and the apo- 
 cryphal Gospels, which narrate a great many of them, 
 indicate by so doing their false character. But there 
 is a natural harmony in Jesus raising from the dead 
 those to whom life was really valuable, who could 
 
 F 
 
8 2 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 both enjoy it and turn it to profitable uses. That the 
 young should be taken away in the midst of their 
 days, in the- bloom and beauty of life, when they 
 could in no sense be said to have fulfilled their 
 course, is a calamity and a waste which we should 
 expect Christ would be willing to repair. 
 
 And here a cognate thought occurs to the mind, 
 that probably one of the reasons of the death of the 
 young, for whom there is no resuscitation in this world, 
 and which seems to us so mysterious, is in order to 
 produce that variety of society in the future world 
 which adds so much to the happiness and usefulness 
 of this. We have reason to believe that not only 
 will the diversities of character and experience which 
 distinguish different individuals here be carried in a 
 transmuted form beyond the grave, but also the bodily 
 and other differences which arise from the different 
 periods of life at which they were called into eternity. 
 The child, the youth, the middle-aged, the old, will 
 mingle with one another as they mingle here, and 
 enliven their intercourse with one another by the 
 special excellencies which are appropriate to each 
 age. We cannot imagine that heaven will lack the 
 variety which is the great characteristic of all God's 
 works on this earth and in the stellar worlds, and 
 which is so cheering and necessary in the world of 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 
 
 mankind ; that all its inhabitants will be of one fixed 
 monotonous age. They shall all indeed be gifted with 
 eternal youth, but that universal youth will not be 
 incompatible with the preservation of those differ- 
 ences of years, upon which He who knew when ir 
 was best to remove them, had at death set His seal 
 and stamp for immortality. They shall never grow 
 old; the glory of heaven shall never bring wrinkles 
 nor grey hair ; and the flight of millenniums will leave 
 them unchanged. But those ages of life at which 
 their growth here was stopped, and which in the very 
 oldest are but as a moment compared to eternity, 
 will retain for ever, amid all the transfiguration of 
 the glorified state, much of the qualities which dis- 
 tinguish them here — the innocence of the young, the 
 dignity and maturity of those of riper years, and the 
 calm serenity and wisdom of the old. 
 
 We are apt to look upon the fact of Jesus meeting 
 the funeral procession at the precise moment when it 
 was issuing out of the gate of the city, as a mere 
 chance or fortunate coincidence. But nothing really 
 occurs by chance; there is no such divinity in the 
 universe. It is only the blind inconsiderateness of 
 men that has made Fortune a goddess, and enthroned 
 her in the heavens. We see not the links connecting 
 events, but their sequences are not therefore arbitrary. 
 
 U 
 
84 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 What seems accidental or contingent to us, who are 
 not acquainted with the plan to be executed and de- 
 veloped, is a Divine pre-arrangement ; and the very 
 aspect of chance or confusion which it presents, ought 
 only to elevate our conception of Him who sees the 
 end from the beginning, who worketh all things by the 
 counsel of His will, and who evolves from the whole 
 His great designs. Jesus must needs pass through 
 Samaria, not only because this was the most direct 
 route to Jerusalem, to which He was going to keep 
 the Passover, but in order that He might meet and 
 converse at Jacob's Well with the woman of Samaria, 
 and produce in her heart, by His wise and gracious 
 dealing, that faith to which He could unfold the 
 glorious revelation of His Messiahship. And now He 
 must needs enter the village of Nain, in order to pour 
 the balm of consolation into a heart that is experi- 
 encing the bitterness of the mourning for an only 
 son. He who brings the insect to fertilize the flower, 
 and the cloud to refresh the parched soil, brought on 
 this occasion the sufferer and the Comforter together, 
 in the seemingly accidental, but in reality deep-laid 
 scheme of His wisdom and love. 
 
 " And when the Lord saw her He had compassion 
 on her." It is not said that the bereaved mother 
 addressed Jesus. She probably knew not who He 
 
II.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. S5 
 
 was, and was occupied solely with her sorrow, heeding 
 no one, seeing nothing in all the horizon but that one 
 mournful object, her son's bier, beside which she 
 walked, with downcast head and faltering steps, weep- 
 ing her very soul out in tears, and refusing to be 
 comforted. She had fallen into an icy crevasse of 
 despair, where no human aid could reach her. She 
 knew not that the promised Messiah, the Resur- 
 rection and the Life, was standing beside her. But 
 Jesus knew all the circumstances of her case, and 
 needed no outward sign or inflection of the voice to 
 convince Him of her anguish. Never was there a 
 human heart so feeling as His. It thrilled with most 
 delicate sensitiveness to every sight and sound of 
 woe. The very word employed in our version to 
 express His sympathy denotes this exquisite tenderness 
 and sensibility. In the original it means far more 
 than mere ordinary compassion for the miserable. It 
 is derived from a term signifying the womb — the organ 
 of maternity — and signifies the unutterable pity which 
 a mother has for her offspring. It is the strongest and 
 most immediate instinct of our nature. He who made 
 the mother's heart has a mothers heart in His own 
 bosom \ and with a yearning maternal love He has 
 compassion upon the poor bereaved mother. With 
 the counter-part of the feeling she experienced towards 
 
 / 
 
S6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 her dead child, He pitied her own distress. The kind 
 of compassion which Jesus bore to the widow of Nain 
 is a beautiful example of Christ's wonderful adaptation 
 of Himself to our wants and woes. His revelation of 
 Himself, and His sympathy and help, are in exactest 
 accordance with our condition. As the impression 
 in wax answers to the seal, so is there the most com- 
 plete harmony between His succour and our necessity. 
 And what He was to this woman in her hour and 
 power of darkness, He is to us in similar circum- 
 stances. Every sorrow we endure is well known 
 to Him who carried our sorrows and bare our sick- 
 nesses. In every crisis of woe the pitying eye of 
 Jesus is upon us in our deepest secrecy, and when we 
 imagine that we are alone, and that no one cares for 
 us or knows our grief, His tender heart beats with 
 special compassion for us. No failure of words or 
 lack of utterance can hide the inmost movements 
 * of our hearts from Him. He is the present witness 
 and infallible interpreter of all our experience ; and it 
 is perhaps in order that God Himself may read the 
 secrets of those sorrows with which no stranger can 
 intermeddle — may explore the depths of our hearts, 
 which we can make bare to no human eye — that we are 
 capable of feelings we cannot utter, that there is no 
 language for the deeper wants of the soul. What we 
 
II.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 87 
 
 endeavour to shape to human apprehension in broken 
 accents, with faltering speech and stammering tongue, 
 which give forth but half the sense, He requires no 
 channels of conveyance intimately and unerringly to 
 know. What it would be but lost labour to express to 
 men, even could we find the means of expressing it, 
 Jesus knows from the corresponding emotion in His 
 own heart ; and He has the truest and tenderest com- 
 passion upon us. 
 
 " There is no need of words of mine to tell 
 My heart to Thee ; Thou needest not to spell, 
 As others must, my hidden thoughts and fears, 
 From out my broken words, my sobs, or tears ; 
 Thou knowest all, knowest far more than I, 
 The inner meaning of each tear or sigh. 
 
 Thou mayest smile, perchance, as mothers smile 
 On sobbing children, seeing all the while 
 How soon will pass away the endless grief, 
 How soon will come the gladness and relief ; 
 But if Thou smilest, yet Thy sympathy 
 Measures my grief by what it is to me." 
 
 Jesus Himself was, strictly speaking, the only son 
 of His mother; and, as Joseph was in all probability 
 dead by this time, she too was a widow, worn down 
 by the duties and cares of a humble home. The ties 
 that bound Him to her were of the deepest and 
 tenderest kind, as much above those which unite an 
 ordinary mother and son as His nature was sinless 
 
THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 \ 
 
 and perfect. He ever treated her with the utmost 
 reverence and love. Amid His own engrossing work, 
 we may be sure that He had never forgotten her who 
 had nursed Him on her bosom, and with whom He 
 had shared the labours and joys of His thirty years 
 of obscurity in the cottage at Nazareth. From His 
 own filial feelings, therefore, He could picture those of 
 the widow of Nain before Him. And it is lawful to 
 suppose that His compassion for her touched Him 
 more nearly from His knowledge of a somewhat 
 similar, but even more trying, experience that awaited 
 Himself. It is not improbable that He saw before 
 His prescient eye at that moment the most touching 
 of all the incidents of the Cross, when, amid His own 
 extreme agonies, He looked down with compassion 
 upon His mother Mary, as with the sword piercing 
 through and through her heart she stood near with the 
 disciple whom He loved, and He said to them both 
 in fewest words of uttermost tenderness, " Woman, 
 behold thy son \ Son, behold thy mother." If this be 
 so, we cannot wonder that the woman who came before 
 Him in agonising circumstances similar to those in 
 which He would soon have to leave His own mother, 
 drew from His heart a peculiar compassion, such as 
 He felt not for any other human being — for all the 
 suffering and the wretched to whom He so tenderly 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 89 
 
 ministered — and induced Him, unsolicited, to perform 
 for her one of His rarest and supremest acts of 
 mercy. 
 
 "And said unto her, Weep not." This "weep not" 
 is widely different from that addressed to the hired 
 mourners of Jairus' household. There it was uttered 
 in indignation, for the purpose of restoring quiet ; here 
 it is said in deepest sympathy, for the purpose of 
 cheering and soothing. How often do these words 
 proceed from the lips of earthly comforters ! Such a 
 phrase is one of the common-places of consolation, 
 and it is as meaningless as it is vain. It is uttered 
 simply for lack of something better to say, and in 
 order to show our sympathy. It gives no reason why 
 the mourner should cease from weeping. What can 
 we do in the presence of a sorrow that overwhelms the 
 soul in the midst of the ruins of its happiness. Miser- 
 able comforters are we, however tender and pitiful. 
 We may say, " Refrain thy voice from weeping, and 
 thine eyes from tears," but altogether unavailingly. 
 The sorrow flows on unheedingly; and we might as 
 well say to the streamlet that ripples night and day 
 over its pebbles. " Cease thy flowing," as to the heart 
 that has a bitter fountain of tears welling up in it, 
 " Weep not." We may, indeed, seek to impress upon 
 the mourner the conviction that, though much is gone. 
 
9 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 all is not gone ; that there are still blessings left to 
 enrich and endear life. We may direct attention to 
 the precious promises of God's Word, that shine like 
 bright stars in the darkest sky, and fall like soft dew 
 upon the withered heart in the loneliest night. We 
 may point to the undimmed blue of God's unchanging 
 love, which gleams calmly and serenely behind the 
 passing cloud of our sorrow, and into which our 
 sorrow, when it has served its purpose, is destined to 
 melt, and on which every cloud that veileth love itself 
 is love ; and we may speak of that glorious fold where 
 our beloved ones are safely gathered, to whose green 
 pastures and fountains of living waters the Good Shep- 
 herd is leading them, and into which no wolf of death 
 or woe can ever break. But still, in spite of all we 
 can say or do, the tears will fall, and the bosom will 
 heave with its load of sorrow. We cannot administer 
 the relief that is needed. We cannot reach directly 
 the seat of the trouble with our medicines. It is only 
 Jesus that can say effectively, " Weep not." For His 
 words are but the signs of His power. They are spirit 
 and they are life, and therefore reach directly the 
 springs of our life, and minister directly to the wants 
 and woes of the spirit. He who spake all the glory of 
 the world into existence when He said to the primeval 
 darkness and disorder, " Let there be light," speaks 
 
it.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 91 
 
 peace and comfort to the distressed heart in the midst 
 of its wild regret and overwhelming yearnings. The 
 intolerable sense of want, the dread vacuity of the 
 heart, the dreariness and loneliness of life, the perpetual 
 craving for " the touch of a vanished hand, and the 
 sound of a voice that is still," He removes by a sweet 
 sense of possession, He fills with a calm satisfying 
 feeling of love, He soothes into rest with an inde- 
 scribable but most real and blessed experience of a 
 peace which the world cannot give. 
 
 Some look upon this " Weep not " as an argument 
 for stoicism under sorrow. They would have us sub- 
 due our grief and repress our tears, as symptoms of 
 rebellion against the Divine will They would make 
 us ashamed of them as signs of weakness, unworthy of 
 the dignity of human nature. Such Christians have 
 not learned their Christianity at Gethsemane or at 
 Golgotha. They know little of human nature, and 
 still less of the blessed religion they profess. An 
 indifference that hardens itself into the passivity and 
 unfeelingness of a statue, is not the noblest attribute 
 of Christian manhood. Dry eyes under grievous trial 
 are not the test of true heroism or submission to the 
 Divine will. They may be the sign of an obstinacy 
 that refuses to suffer, that will not put its neck under 
 the yoke at all — of a proud determination of the will 
 
92 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 to be sufficient for itself against all the evils of this 
 life. No one need be ashamed of tears, since our 
 Saviour's eyes were filled with them, since we read 
 that the noblest characters in sacred and secular 
 history shed them. There are, indeed, weak natures 
 that have recourse to crying with little cause. But 
 the power to weep in the great crises and tragic ex- 
 periences of life is a sign, not of weakness, but of 
 strength. It may be combined with the grandest 
 qualities. That there is no sin in weeping is suffi- 
 ciently proved by the fact that God's chastisements 
 are founded upon the sensibility of our nature to 
 pain and sorrow. Without this sensibility, the dis- 
 cipline could not effect any of the moral purposes for 
 which it was designed. We cannot be said to give up 
 what we do not prize,, or to bear what we do not feel. 
 The shedding of tears, therefore, is not a sign of re- 
 bellion against the will of God \ but, on the contrary, 
 a yielding to that natural susceptibility to sorrow 
 which God has given to us for wise and gracious 
 purposes. It is acting in obedience to the instincts 
 of that nature which God has made ; for it does not 
 depend upon us to be unaffected by sorrow — we are 
 made for that very purpose. 
 
 The very existence of tears shows that God has de- 
 signed them and has a use for them. It is true that 
 
ii.] THE WIDOWS SOX. 93 
 
 immoderate grief that is full of repining and discontent, 
 that upbraids God for the one trial under which it is 
 suffering, and forgets His uniform and long-continued 
 goodness, that is so swallowed up with its own selfish 
 loss as to forget all other claims and duties, that has no 
 sense of heaven — is sinful, is rebellious. Such tears 
 ought to be repressed. They are those of a slave that 
 scorch and harden, and not those of a child that soothe 
 and purify. But, when we surrender our low self-will, 
 and the full pride of our sin — when, in the midst of 
 our sorest trouble, we have a wish to be resigned to 
 the will of heaven — there is no sin, no rebelliousness 
 in allowing nature to take her course, and throw off 
 the load which presses upon the heart. Our Saviour 
 bids us weep in such circumstances, for tears will do 
 us good. He permits us to tremble and shrink under 
 our sorrow, for trembling and shrinking at such a time 
 are natural, and He wishes us to be true to our human 
 nature. He does not wish to make us Stoics, but 
 tender-hearted Christians made perfect through suffer- 
 ing. And, therefore, when He says, " Weep not," He 
 does not mean to forbid tears, or to make us ashamed 
 of them ; but He means to give us a reason, a suffi- 
 cient cause, for drying our tears. He does not say, 
 " be comforted," merely ; He gives the means of com- 
 fort. He acts upon the only true principle by which 
 
94 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 sorrow can be assuaged, viz., by removing the painful 
 feeling produced by the loss of an inferior good, and 
 substituting the joyful feeling produced by the posses- 
 sion of a superior good. He gives us blessings far 
 more precious and enduring than those whose loss we 
 mourn — joys that leave no stains or stings behind, in 
 exchange for those that have broken when we reposed 
 upon them, and pierced us through with many painful 
 darts. In the darkness caused by the breaking and 
 the extinguishing of the earthly lamp, He makes the 
 Sun of Righteousness to arise upon us with healing in 
 His wings. In the thirst of the soul produced by the 
 drying up of the earthly fountain, He leads us to 
 fountains of living water, and wipes away all tears from 
 our eyes. 
 
 ' ' Weep not for death ! 
 'Tis but a fever stilled, 
 A pain suppressed, a fear at rest, 
 A solemn hope fulfilled. 
 The moonshine on the slumbering deep 
 Is scarcely calmer — wherefore weep? 
 
 Weep not for death ! 
 
 The fount of tears is sealed, 
 
 Who knows how bright the inward light 
 
 To those shut eyes revealed ? 
 
 Who knows what peerless love may fill 
 
 The heart that seems so cold and still ? " 
 
 The words "Weep not" must have sounded Very 
 
II.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 95 
 
 strange to the ears of the sorrowing mother. If any 
 hope of God's interference had at one time cheered 
 her while she watched her dying child, all such hope 
 must now have fled. Never more for her can the 
 happy past return, or the future smile. And yet 
 there is an indescribable something in the look and 
 tone of Jesus that arrests her attention, and awakens 
 a vague hope from the bottom of her hopelessness, 
 as a stray sunbeam in the dark days of January calls 
 a snowdrop from its desolate frost-bound bed. She 
 knew not what He was about to do ; but she awaited 
 the result with blanched lips and throbbing breast. 
 It is an entirely consistent circumstance that through- 
 out the whole course of the gospel history, amid the 
 numberless requests made to Jesus, involving miracul- 
 ous interpositions, there is not a single example of a 
 request to restore life to a dead person. Neither Jairus 
 nor Lazarus' sisters made such a request. They be- 
 sought him to cure the sufferer, and to keep back 
 the expiring life; but they were silent when the life 
 had fled. They felt as every human being feels, that 
 as it is appointed unto man once to die, so death is 
 the end of every effort as it is of every hope. When 
 death has happened, the friend of highest faith as 
 well as the friend of lowest has to acquiesce in the 
 inevitable; all prayers and wishes and labours are 
 
96 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 given up, and nothing is left but to mourn our irre- 
 mediable loss. 
 
 " He came and touched the bier." It was not 
 necessary for Him to do this, so far as the exercise 
 of His Divine power was concerned. He could have 
 stood where He was and commanded death to release 
 his prey as easily as He healed the nobleman's son, 
 and the centurion's servant, and the Syro-Phenician 
 woman's daughter at a distance. But Jesus acted 
 here as He acted in the case of the daughter of Jairus, 
 in the case of the leper, and in the case of Simon's 
 wife's mother. And there was a deep significance 
 in what He did. That step which He took from the 
 spot on whiclv He stood to the bier, was an emblem 
 of the longer step which He took from the bosom 
 of the living Father in heaven to this fallen and dead 
 world. He came to the bier instead of raising the 
 young man to life where He was, just as He came 
 to our world instead of redeeming it in heaven. Jesus 
 came to seek and to save that which was lost. He 
 goes to meet every case of distress, instead of com- 
 manding it to be brought before Him; and in the 
 wondrous depth of His meekness and condescension 
 puts Himself on the level of the trouble, and in that 
 lowly attitude works its cure. He touched the bier. 
 Jesus by so doing violated the letter of the law that 
 
II.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 97 
 
 He might keep its spirit, which is that mercy is 
 better than sacrifice. Such contact with death, as 
 was pointed out in the case of Jairus' daughter, was 
 forbidden by the Levitical law, under the penalty of 
 uncleanness and isolation for a time. This penalty 
 Jesus incurred. He became ceremonially dead while 
 touching the dead body. He took to Himself the 
 infirmities which He removed from others ; He bore 
 in His own person the sicknesses which He healed. 
 He wrought His wonderful works not only by the 
 expression of an Almighty will, but also by the power 
 of a redemptive sympathy. He now touched the 
 bier of another, but He was soon to lie on the bier 
 Himself. He now became unclean through mere con- 
 tact with the dead body of another, but He was soon 
 to become unclean through a subjection in His own 
 person to a death numbered among transgressors, the 
 shameful death of the cross. And therefore the 
 touching of the bier of the widow of Xain's son was 
 a part of the great sacrifice of Calvary, a sign and 
 an anticipation of it. It indicated in its own degree 
 and place the great truth of His suretyship and sub- 
 stitution. He entered by His incarnation into the 
 fellowship of the penalty which man's sin had entailed. 
 It was as a result of the law of human community of 
 interests that the Holy One, who was Himself undefiled 
 G 
 
98 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 by sin, was yet subjected to the burden of the curse 
 and of death, resulting from the sins of those of whose 
 nature He had become partaker. And therefore He 
 touched the bier, to show that He raised the young 
 man to life not by His absolute power as God, but 
 by the power of His own suffering and death as a 
 sacrifice for sin. We must remember always the 
 precious doctrine, that it was in the lowly and suffer- 
 ing form that Christ encountered the enemies of His 
 people, the world, sin, death, and hell, and vanquished 
 them all. In death He conquered; by death He 
 abolished death ; by His suffering He atoned for sin, 
 expiated our guilt, appeased the wrath of a holy God ; 
 and out of weakness, suffering, death, and the grave 
 He came forth dragging captivity captive. And it 
 is still as the Crucified One that He prevails. It 
 is the power of Jesus' love in self-sacrifice that melts 
 men's hearts, subdues their will, changes their nature, 
 and creates anew their life. This is the advocacy 
 that prevails with God in behalf of His people, that 
 procures for them all needed grace and strength, and 
 that keeps them safe unto the day of redemption. 
 The Crucified One is destined ultimately to prevail 
 over every form of evil, to put down all hostile rule, 
 and to subdue all things unto Himself. At the name 
 of the Crucified One every knee must yet bow, His 
 
THE WIDOW'S SON. 
 
 99 
 
 enemies in terror, His redeemed in adoration. Jesus 
 therefore touched the bier of the dead man at Xain 
 in token of His fellowship with him in death, and 
 that it was by the power of His own death that He 
 raised him to life. The incident also teaches us how 
 death is overcome, not by any magical or arbitrary 
 exercise of will, but by inward union with Him who 
 not only has life but is life. The hand stretch eel out 
 to touch or raise was but the apt symbol of a deeper 
 union in that vital energy by which all cures are 
 wrought. 
 
 " And they that bare him stood still." They were 
 struck by a sudden consciousness that they were in 
 the presence of One who had a right to stop them. 
 even in their progress to the tomb ; and they waited 
 silently and reverently for what He might say or do. 
 Stranger though He was probably to all of them, they 
 did not venture to ask Him why He placed Himself 
 between them and the fulfilment of their sad errand ; 
 they did not push on regardless of His interference. 
 They did not, like the hired mourners in the house of 
 Jairus, laugh Jesus to scorn. They felt the awe of 
 heaven upon their spirits \ and the sense of a higher 
 world overcame their human impatience and pride, 
 and compelled them unbidden to stand still in ex- 
 pectant attitude. And for this reverential obedience 
 
ioo THREE RAISINGS FROM TIFE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 and waiting they were richly rewarded. They had 
 the unspeakable privilege of witnessing a mighty act, 
 which would in future change for them the shadow of 
 death into the morning. And a similar reward is con- 
 ferred upon all reverential spirits who recognise the 
 Divine presence in every work of nature and in every 
 event of human life, and who stand still in humble 
 trust and hushed patience to see the salvation of 
 God. It is the reverential .spirit that sees, with down- 
 drooping eyes, wonderful things out of the Divine 
 law in nature and grace — that beholds, with shoes 
 put off its feet, the * Angel of the Covenant in every 
 bush that burns with the flame of life — that enters 
 with the blood of atonement into the Holy of Holies 
 of Divine communion — that looks, in the spirit on 
 the Lord's Day, through the open door of heaven 
 upon the glorious things which God hath prepared 
 for them that love Him. There is too little of this 
 feeling of reverence in our daily business and in our 
 religious worship; and in the hurry and preoccupation 
 and familiarity of life, we lose many a bright glimpse 
 of the spiritual, and many a rich experience of the 
 Divine. 
 
 What a scene for the genius of a great painter 
 does the imagination picture at this sublime expectant 
 moment, when the power of God is about to be visibly 
 
ii.] THE WIDOWS SOX. 101 
 
 displayed; the mother bowed down with grief, and 
 yet lifting up to the face of Jesus eager eyes in which 
 a new-born hope struggles w T ith the tears of despair ; 
 the bearers of the bier standing still with looks of awe 
 and astonishment; the motley groups of the funeral 
 procession, and the multitude who followed Jesus, 
 in their picturesque oriental dresses, turning to one 
 another as if asking the meaning of this strange pro- 
 ceeding; the calm holy form of Jesus touching the 
 bier; and the last red level rays of the sun setting 
 behind the green hills on the western horizon, haloing 
 with a sacred glow the head of the Redeemer and 
 the shrouded figure that lies motionless and uncon- 
 scious on the bier, speaking touchingly of that sun 
 that shall no more go down ! 
 
 The stillness is broken by words such as human 
 ears had never heard before — " Young man, I say 
 unto thee arise. " Once before, within the circuit of 
 these Galilean hills, the spell of death was broken. 
 In yonder village of Shunem Elisha raised the Shunam- 
 mite's child. But how laborious and painful was the 
 process ! How reluctant was the tyrant to let go his 
 hold of his victim ! How the door of the tomb 
 creaked and groaned as the prophet, endowed for the 
 occasion with more than Samson's strength, turned it 
 upon its hinges with the sorrow of his soul and the 
 
102 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 sweat of his brow. He laid himself upon the child, 
 and put his mouth upon his mouth, and his eyes upon 
 his eyes, and his hands upon his hands. He prayed 
 earnestly and with all the passion of his soul three 
 times. He rose and walked to and fro in the room to 
 recover by exercise the heat which had passed by 
 absorption from himself to the cold dead corpse upon 
 which he lay. We see the birth-pangs, as it were, 
 of the resurrection life, and this was because Elisha 
 was but a servant in the house, and possessed but 
 a limited measure of the Spirit. But here in Nain 
 is the Master of the house, the Lord of the living 
 and the dead, who possesses the Spirit without 
 measure, in whom dwells the fulness of the God- 
 head bodily; and He raises the young man to life 
 with a word, with as much ease as He performed 
 the commonest transactions of life. He commanded 
 the young man to. arise from the bier, as He ordered 
 the young maiden to arise from her bed. " I say unto 
 thee." How suggestive of omnipotence is that I. In 
 His own name He speaks. He has recourse to no 
 ^/extraneous help. He relies on His own strength, 
 and He works by a power immanent and inherent 
 in Himself. 
 
 In the original our Lord is represented as using 
 several words to convey His command. As Greek, 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 103 
 
 however, was not, as we have every reason to believe, 
 the language which our Saviour spoke, but Aramaic, 
 it is reasonable to suppose that He used on this 
 occasion the same word for " arise " which is given 
 in Aramaic by St. Mark in connection with the restora- 
 tion of the daughter of Jairus. One word, " cumi" 
 in such a case would express His calm authoritative 
 utterance. In the narrative of the stilling of the 
 tempest, each of His commands is conveyed by a 
 single verb in the imperative mood ; to the winds He 
 said, " siopci" peace, and to the waves, " pephimoso" 
 be still. In the healing of the man who was deaf and 
 dumb, St. Mark gives the one Aramaic word which 
 Christ used, " Ephphatha," be opened; and these cases, 
 I think, warrant the inference that, on every occasion 
 of His miraculous interference, He employed only a 
 single word. And in this respect the miracles of the 
 new creation would be in keeping with the great 
 miracle of the first creation. God used, not several 
 words as in our translation, " Let there be light" but 
 one majestic word, " Tehioth." There is no periphrasis 
 about His style. He whose commandment as the 
 Lord of nature runs very swiftly throughout the out- 
 ward w r orld of inanimate things, utters His voice in 
 removing the disabilities of the human world with the 
 ease and simplicity of One who knows that He has 
 
104 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 only to speak and it will be done, to command and it 
 will stand fast. On the present occasion He did not 
 mutter His charms like an enchanter, but, attesting 
 the dignity of the moment, He spoke in the hearing of 
 the people, and in language which they could most 
 thoroughly understand. And as His sublime word, 
 arise, thrilled through the heart of the mourning 
 mother, and caused an answering thrill in the hearts 
 of the silent multitude, so it awoke an echo in the 
 mysterious darkness and loneliness of the silent land. 
 A mother's tears could not recall the lost one. The 
 agony of a widowed mother's broken heart bleeding 
 for its only earthly hope and joy, could not open 
 those sealed eyes and frozen lips. Deaf was the 
 cold ear to all cries and prayers. Love is power- 
 ful — the most powerful thing on earth — but death 
 is more powerful even than a mother's love ; and, 
 when it has obtained possession, it refuses to give 
 up its prey to the most passionate human entreaty. 
 But there is a Love that is more than love, that has 
 destroyed death and led captivity captive; and the 
 still small voice of that Love which comforts as one 
 whom a mother comforteth, and has all power on 
 earth and in heaven, reached the spirit and called it 
 back — made the young man sit up on his bier, as of 
 old it made Elijah stand in the mouth of his cave at 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 105 
 
 Horeb, and wrap his face in his mantle, although the 
 earthquake, the whirlwind, and the fire had produced 
 no impression upon him. The young man awoke as 
 if he had been waiting for the summons, not living 
 only, but well, bearing no marks of the sickness or 
 disease that had brought him to the grave. When all 
 hope was over for ever, the highest expectation of 
 hope was fulfilled. The young man was being carried 
 to the tomb, and not to a Saviour ; but, on that dread 
 unreturning path, Life came to meet him, and to turn 
 him back to the land of the living ; and into the 
 desolate loneliness of the sorest human bereavement 
 came the radiance of a great joy, drying all a mother's 
 tears, as came the fire from heaven on the cold and 
 drenched sacrifice of Elijah on Carmel. 
 
 " And he that was dead sat up and began to speak." 
 What did he speak about? Did he communicate to 
 the bystanders any of the secrets which death so 
 jealously keeps under his impassive calmness? Did 
 he make known into what wonderful regions of light, 
 shrouded to us in such awful and inscrutable mystery, 
 ■ his spirit had passed from the morn to the sunset of 
 that eventful day, during which the forsaken body, like 
 a broken fetter, lay cold and dead in the chamber and 
 on the bier? Did he tell how death looked from 
 the immortal side, and how dark a contrast to those 
 
io6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 bright scenes from which his spirit had been recalled 
 was presented to his view when he returned to this 
 world of change and weeping ? These are the things 
 of which we might expect him to speak to the by- 
 standers. These are the things which above all 
 others would interest us most deeply. There is no 
 one who believes in a life beyond the grave, but must 
 feel in his deeper moods a passionate longing to know 
 something definite about its circumstances and experi- 
 ences. That world lies so near to us, separated only 
 by the thin walls of this fleshly tabernacle, hidden 
 from our eyes only by this fleeting breath of life ; 
 it has already received so much of what was part 
 of our own being, and is destined soon at the 
 latest to receive ourselves, that it is but natural to 
 cherish a feeling of earnest solicitude concerning it. 
 In seasons of bereavement, we feel it hard to part 
 with those whom we love on the boundary line betwixt 
 this world and the next, and know nothing more 
 about them, where they are or how they are. We 
 stand at the gate that opens only inwards, and strain 
 our eyes to pierce through the bars into the gloom for 
 only one gleam of light to cheer our spirits. We wet 
 its posts day by day with our tears ; we implore from 
 its silence one human sign, one token of recognition, 
 however faint and fleeting. But all in vain ! In 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 107 
 
 the ebon vault in which we wander, groping after 
 our lost ones, we feel nothing but the cruel walls 
 of darkness that hem us in, and hear nothing but the 
 mournful echo of our own wild wail; and we are 
 tempted at times to think that the bright heavenly 
 world, where we picture them to be, is after all, as 
 Kingsley beautifully says, only a gaudy window which 
 our own fond imagination paints to hide the terrible 
 blankness and darkness of the night beyond. 
 
 The lips of the widow of Nain's son were sealed 
 upon those things which it is not lawful for a man to 
 utter. Frequent as have been the communications 
 between heaven and earth, no voice has broken the 
 silence of death, or disclosed the mysteries of the 
 spirit-world. Our Saviour Himself maintained the 
 same strange reticence in His last interview with His 
 disciples. He had been crucified, dead, and buried, 
 but He had broken the iron fetters of death • He had 
 burst asunder the brazen gates of the grave ; He had 
 recrossed the dread river, and retraced His steps up 
 the dark valley into the light and the land of the 
 living. He stood in the midst of the little affrighted 
 flock, and showed them His hands and His feet, took 
 a piece of a broiled fish and an honey-comb and ate it 
 before them; and by these homely signs convinced 
 them that he was not a spirit, as they had feared, but 
 
108 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 Jesus of Nazareth, their old Master and Friend. He 
 was about to return to the glory which He had with 
 the Father before the world was ; and this was to be 
 His last opportunity of teaching them. We should 
 have expected, in these circumstances, that he would 
 dissipate the mystery that shrouds the unseen world, 
 disclose the true state of the departed, and in the 
 fulness and freshness of recent experience, and in the 
 affectionate open-hearted confidence of parting, drop 
 some hint of what it is to die, beyond what the Scrip- 
 tures reveal. And yet He said not a single word 
 regarding what He had seen and heard during the 
 three days when His body was in Joseph's tomb and 
 His soul in Hades. He merely shed new light upon 
 the old truth with which they were already familiar; 
 " opened their understandings that they might under- 
 stand the Scriptures." He left, true, earnest Teacher 
 that He was, that most grand and cheering declaration, 
 in all its openness, breadth, and universal adaptation, 
 " Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither hath it 
 entered into the heart of man to conceive what things 
 God hath prepared for them that love Him." And 
 how opposed is all this to the so-called revelations of 
 spirits, given to those who call themselves spiritualists. 
 How can those who advocate this wretched creed 
 bring themselves to believe, that what our Saviour 
 
ii. THE WIDOW'S SOX. 
 
 109 
 
 refused to disclose, what those whom He raised from 
 the dead and those who had communications from 
 heaven could not reveal, what is denied to the pas- 
 sionate supplications of the heart-broken in their deso- 
 late homes, is nevertheless granted to a cold and 
 prurient curiosity. It is the hardest trial of human 
 nature, in the hour of bereavement, as one has well 
 said, to repose upon the silence of God; but surely 
 it is better to do so than to seek consolation from 
 spirit-rapping. It is better to wait patiently in the 
 darkness and loneliness till the day break and the 
 shadows flee away, than to seek to dispel the mystery 
 by sparks of our own kindling and ghosts of our own 
 raising — to create a delusive and unhallowed light 
 by necromantic spells from the phosphorescence of 
 the grave. 
 
 -And He delivered him to his mother." Who 
 can describe the unutterable gladness of that restora- 
 tion? Who can depict adequately the mingled joy 
 and wonder and gratitude that filled the widowed 
 mother's heart to overflowing? The revulsion of feel- 
 ing must have been painful in its very intensity. But 
 the Evangelist has left a veil over it, for there are 
 feelings with which a stranger may not intermeddle. 
 We can imagine indeed the joy of the widow from 
 what we ourselves have felt when we have r^ 
 
i ro THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 back to our arms again those who were almost dead, 
 and regarding whom we had given up all hope. We 
 know what it is to watch expiring life in our be- 
 loved, and as if by a miracle, in the very extremity 
 of our despair, to see it kindling from its socket and 
 waxing stronger and brighter. We remember that 
 joyful sentence of the physician, "Out of danger," and 
 the wild tumult of emotion with which it filled us. 
 And oh ! how often have we pictured the inexpressible 
 happiness that would be ours, as we water our couch 
 all night with tears, could we look once more upon 
 the beloved dead eye to eye, and return them smile 
 for smile. We would give all the world for such 
 a meeting ! And by our own experience, and by our 
 own vain dreams and longings, we can imagine the 
 woman's bliss. Truly the promise was literally ful- 
 filled to her, "Weeping may endure for a night, but 
 joy cometh in the morning;" "For a small moment 
 have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I 
 gather thee." And so is it, if we rightly regard it, 
 to us all. Our release from sorrow is not only as 
 sure as the covenant of God can make it, but it is 
 very near. Our light affliction is but for a moment. 
 If our cross be heavy, we have not far or long to carry 
 it. And soon the death which divided will reunite ; 
 the wounds which he inflicted, his own hands will 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. i 1 1 
 
 heal ; and we shall see our beloved ones again, and 
 our hearts shall rejoice, and our joy no man shall 
 take from us. 
 
 In the smallest details and humblest features of 
 Christ's miracles there is profound meaning, just as 
 in the hem of His garment there was healing power. 
 When so much has been left out of the record that 
 we would naturally wish to know, we may be sure 
 that nothing has been put in that is not essential to 
 our thorough understanding of the miracle, and to 
 our perfect learning of the lesson which it teaches. 
 There is no mere ornamentation, no trick of rhetoric. 
 It is in God's word as it is in His works. You see 
 a minute crimson tint upon the upper lip of a 
 blossom, and you think it of no consequence. You 
 fancy that it is the mere result of chance, a drop of 
 colour, as it were, that happened to fall accidentally 
 and unnoticed upon that part of the blossom, from 
 the laden palette of the Great Painter of the lilies 
 of the field. But the scientific man will tell you that 
 that tint has been placed in that particular position 
 to guide the eye of the insect, by whom the plant 
 is fertilized, to the point where, in search of honey, 
 it may help to carry out the design of nature to 
 propagate the plant. You thus see that the whole 
 history of the plant, perhaps the welfare of the whole 
 
H2 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 human race, so far as it is dependent upon the pro- 
 duce of that plant, is connected with the little speck 
 of crimson colour upon the upper lip of its blossom, 
 which seems to you so insignificant, so accidental and 
 purposeless ; and that it is as full of meaning and as 
 much in the mind and plan of the Creator and 
 Upholder of all things, as the crimson glory of a sun- 
 set that sets the whole western heavens on fire. And 
 so is it with the miracles of Jesus. The smallest 
 details in them were intended, and are full of signifi- 
 cance. When it is said that Jesus delivered the 
 young man to his mother, we have in this homely 
 and apparently trivial circumstance of the miracle an 
 indication of what shall take place at the general 
 resurrection. He who delivered the restored son to 
 the arms of the widowed mother at Nain, will then 
 reunite all the loved and lost who fell asleep in 
 Him. 
 
 We know that the Son of Man will deliver us, when 
 raised from the grave, unto God, the supreme object 
 of attachment and highest source of happiness ; and 
 that in our unveiled communion with Him we shall 
 never know again throughout eternal ages, as we have 
 often known here, what it is to want a friend who 
 can answer every call for sympathy, and cheer us with 
 a ready response to every thought and intent of the 
 
II.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 113 
 
 heart. But we need more than even this to complete 
 the blessedness of heaven. Man needs more than 
 the society of God. He wants his fellow-beings, his 
 help-meets who are on a level with him. He who 
 said in the earthly paradise, "It is not good for man to 
 be alone,"' even although man had the great blessings 
 of Eden and the glorious companionship of angels 
 and of God Himself, knows that it will not be good 
 for man to be alone even in die midst of the pleasur 
 that are at God's right hand, and in the blissful society 
 of all the hosts of heaven. And, therefore, He has 
 provided for the association of the spirits of just men 
 made perfect with each other. Those who fall asleep 
 in Jesus will God bring with Him for the purpose of 
 restoring them to each other. He will bring back 
 the child to the mother, the husband to the wife, 
 the brother to the sister, the friend to the friend, as 
 truly as on earth He delivered the young man of 
 Xain to his mother, the daughter of Jairus to her 
 father, and Lazarus to Martha and Mary. Our bodies 
 will not be raised from the tomb, and our affections, 
 our truest and noblest self, be allowed to lie there. 
 He who dowered this earth with such strong personal 
 attachments, the sweetest and best things in it, will 
 not deprive heaven of them. He who united two 
 fond hearts by the closest and most endearing ties 
 
1 1 4 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 of earth, will not beyond the grave, as the poet says, 
 sever that united life in two, and bid each half live 
 again and count itself the whole. Are they not as 
 husband and wife heirs together of eternal life ? The 
 marriage union were but a poor image of the bond 
 that unites Christ to His church, if it were loosed 
 beyond the grave. It is true that there is neither 
 marrying nor giving in marriage in heaven, for under 
 new conditions there must be new relations \ but it is 
 only that which is temporary in marriage that is dis- 
 solved by death, while that love in it which is immortal 
 is purified and perfected. If in this life only we love, 
 to extend the words of the apostle, we are indeed 
 most miserable, considering the preciousness of love, 
 and the frail tenure on which it hangs — the war m nes t 
 upon the rotten bough. If on heaven's oblivious 
 shore we have everlasting joy, but nevermore the 
 friends that were dear to us here; if to die is the 
 disintegration of love and reconstruction of it beyond 
 the grave as an impersonal universal element, which all 
 shall breathe equally; if the mansions of the blessed 
 are denuded of special and particular affections, and 
 everyone there shall be equally dear, and all shall 
 be loved alike, — there is nothing attractive in the 
 picture or prospect. We shrink from it with instinc- 
 tive dislike. It is not what our warm human hearts 
 
il] THE WIDOW'S SOX. t i 5 
 
 crave, for we know well that if we cease to love in 
 the same way those whom we once loved, if we cease 
 to love them with a positive, definite, individual love, 
 we lose our memory and our identity ; we cease to be 
 ourselves. Our heart protests against such a doctrine 
 as that, and blessed be God it exists only in the 
 vain imaginations of ignorant men; it has no place 
 in the Bible. In God's Word we are told that we 
 shall have the most endearing society in heaven ; that 
 that society will include those to whom we were most 
 tenderly related by nature or pious friendship, with 
 whom we shall resume our old special fellowship, 
 purged of all its selfishness, and perpetuated in the 
 purest and most blissful form for ever. It is in order 
 that God may deliver the friends and relations of 
 earth to each other when He raises them up from the 
 grave at the last day, that He commits the preaching 
 of the gospel and the means of grace into the hands of 
 men. It is in order that human beings in heaven, while 
 they love all the saints with pure hearts fervently, 
 may love special individuals with a special individual 
 love, and may be bound to them by special ties of 
 gratitude and affection, that He makes them here 
 the instruments of each other's salvation. Y\Tiy are 
 children committed to the fostering care of parents. 
 with the injunction from the Heavenly Father to 
 
i 1 6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 train them up for Him ? Why are the ties of family 
 and friendship so many consecrated channels through 
 which the life blood of religion may flow from heart 
 to heart ? Is it not that the family of God in heaven 
 may be linked together by the special ties that bind 
 them here? St. Paul called, not the converts of St. 
 Peter and St. John, his joy and crown of rejoicing 
 in the day of Christ's appearing, but his own personal 
 friends; those with whom he had prayed, who had 
 caused him sorrow and joy, and who wept at parting 
 at the thought that they should see his face no more. 
 And who can calculate the amount of blessedness 
 which the reunions of such beloved ones, endeared 
 by such special ties, will produce ? Who can form a 
 picture of the transcendent bliss, when Christ shall 
 consecrate for evermore from the everlasting Throne 
 the relationships formed here beside the altar and the 
 cross, and shall say to the mother, " Woman, behold 
 thy son," and to the son, "Behold thy mother." 
 
 " Known and unknown ; human, divine ; 
 Sweet human hand, and lips and eye ; 
 Dear heavenly friend thou canst not die, 
 Mine, mine for ever, ever mine." 
 
 But there is a fear mingled with this happy prospect, 
 that in the glorified state too little of what we once 
 remembered and loved will remain. We are afraid 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SON. 117 
 
 that the restoration of our dead will be like the fabled 
 Palingenesis of the ancient alchemists, by which a 
 perished rose was supposed to be re-created from its 
 own ashes, but without the former bloom and fragrance. 
 Father, mother, child, will take on a new form, which, 
 with all its glory, will lose much of the old familiar 
 charm. But there is no cause for such a fear. We may 
 be sure that when the Lord delivers the saints in glory 
 to each other, it will be no counterfeits of the old friends 
 that He will restore. Fashioned like unto the glorious 
 body of Christ they shall indeed be, but they will re- 
 tain all that constituted their former identity. The son 
 whom Jesus gave back from the grave to the arms of 
 his mother was no phantom son, no pale unfamiliar 
 ghost of the cherished past. It was the same form and 
 heart that she had loved and guarded from his child- 
 hood. And so the friends that will be restored to us 
 will be no new unknown beings, but our own old 
 friends whose image our hearts keep so faithfully. We 
 shall meet father and mother, sister and brother and 
 friend — not an undistinguishable throng of spirits wear- 
 ing the same glorified appearance — in that he 
 which is not a foreign land, but our native country, 
 in that house not made with hands, which is not the 
 temple of an abstract Divinity, but the home of our 
 Father. Such is the happiness of individual love be- 
 
1 1 8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 yond the grave, for which our nature longs, and to 
 which the glorious miracle of the resurrection will 
 introduce us. 
 
 But, further, our Lord's act implies the restoration 
 of those who have been raised from spiritual death, to 
 the true recognition and right fulfilment of the com- 
 mon duties and relationships of life on earth. When 
 Jesus brought back the young man of Nain from the 
 dead, He did not say to him, " Follow Me." He had 
 laid him under a debt of gratitude which only a life of 
 devotion to His service could pay. The life which had 
 been restored in so miraculous a manner might well 
 be dedicated to his Saviour, and filled with works of 
 faith and labours of love for His sake. And yet Jesus 
 did not summon him to such a public ministry, did 
 not require at his hands such a sacrifice of home, and 
 friends, and ordinary business. " He delivered him 
 to his mother." Within the circle of home, the young 
 man would find his most urgent and sacred field of 
 ministration. To be the joy of the lonely widow's 
 heart, and the stay and support of the widow's desolate 
 home, would for him be the reasonable service of God. 
 The mercy required of him was better than all public 
 sacrifice ; the fulfilment of an only son's duty to a 
 widowed mother would be more acceptable in the 
 sight of God than the public following of Christ as a 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SON. 119 
 
 disciple, while that duty was abandoned or left to 
 others to perform. He who had compassion upon the 
 widow when her son was lost to her in death, had 
 compassion upon her lonely desolate circumstances 
 when her son was restored to her. He who com- 
 manded the parents of Jairus' daughter to give her 
 common food, after her marvellous resuscitation, de- 
 livered the widow of Nain's son to the duties of 
 ordinary life, after He had raised him from the dead. 
 He drew Matthew from the receipt of custom, and 
 Peter and Andrew from the fisherman's nets, and 
 James and John from the side of Zebedee their father ; 
 He said, " He that loveth father and mother more 
 than Me is not worthy of Me ;" and commanded us to 
 hate and forsake father and mother and wife and child 
 and house and land for His sake and the Gospel's. 
 But He knew how dependent the widow was upon her 
 son ; how desolate her life would be without him ; and 
 therefore He laid no commands upon him that would 
 conflict with his duty to her, but simply and freely 
 delivered him up to her. And we can imagine what 
 a mighty effect this extraordinary and unexpected 
 restoration would produce upon the relations of mother 
 and son to one another henceforward. Like Abraham, 
 she received her son back from the sacrifice of death, 
 invested with a holier character, and freed from the 
 
120 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 dominion of self and the bondage of the world — freed 
 from all the doubts, anxieties, and fears of a fond, 
 foolish idolatry — a treasure henceforth to be loved 
 with that holy and unselfish love, which is a fore- 
 shadowing of that which shall survive death and knit 
 heart to heart in eternity. And how would the extra- 
 ordinary event invest with a new sanctity all the 
 duties and relationships of life to the young man him- 
 self ! Returning wondrously adorned by the spoils of * 
 the kingdom beyond the tomb, he would shed the 
 solemnity of his own spirit and the gratitude of his 
 own heart upon the whole sphere* of his experience. 
 He would be a more loving son by reason of his 
 brief but awful separation from his mother. He 
 would fulfil more perfectly the claims of filial devotion, 
 remembering how very nearly for him they were over 
 for ever. Delivered to his mother from death, by the 
 miraculous interposition of Jesus, we may well suppose 
 that he was restored to all that constitutes the life of 
 a true son in the household and of a true man in the 
 world. 
 
 It is lawful, I think, to apply the case of the widow 
 of Nain's son as an analogy to the case of a man who 
 is converted. Jesus performs upon such a man a 
 miracle greater and more wonderful than the restora- 
 tion of the young man from the dead. It is, indeed, . 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SON. 121 
 
 a spiritual resurrection, a raising from a death in sin 
 to newness of life in Christ Jesus. And, in the great 
 majority of cases, our Lord delivers such restored 
 persons to the common duties and relationships of life, 
 to fulfil them more perfectly, in the light and power of 
 their new experience. It is only one here and there, 
 whom He Himself has specially qualified and circum- 
 stanced, that He commands, like Matthew, Peter, 
 James, and John, to forsake all and follow Him. 
 But how different is this from our ordinary con- 
 ceptions ! We imagine that there is only one stereo- 
 typed way of serving God acceptably. The idea is 
 deeply rooted in the minds of many, that whenever 
 they are converted they have received a call to follow 
 Christ publicly, to forsake their old duties and rela- 
 tions, and take up new ones that will bring them more 
 under the eye of their fellow-creatures. There is a 
 prevailing disposition to consider the perfect image of 
 a Christian life, to be the entire and formal surrender 
 of all our powers and possessions to the work of 
 teaching and evangelising mankind. Many base their 
 ideas of a converted life upon Christ's command to 
 the young ruler, " If thou wilt be perfect, sell all that 
 thou hast and give to the poor and follow me, and 
 thou shalt have treasure in heaven." But those who 
 urge such ''councils of perfection" do not seem to 
 
122 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 know, that the command to the young ruler was an 
 individual injunction, limited by individual specialities. 
 It was given to the young ruler because it was appli- 
 cable to his case and circumstances, because his riches 
 were a snare to him, and stood between him and the 
 salvation of his soul ; and to him it was not a " council 
 of perfection," which he might reject if he pleased, but 
 a command, to refuse obedience to which was to refuse 
 to follow the only way that could lead him to eternal 
 life. But Christ did not say to Lazarus, or to the 
 young man of Nain, or to hundreds more whom He 
 relieved, and on whom He conferred the greatest 
 benefits, " Sell all that thou hast and follow Me." For 
 most men, it would simply be wrong to do this; as 
 hurtful to themselves and to society as it would be 
 foolish. The paths of perfection, although one in 
 principle,, differ widely in their form; and they are 
 determined in every case by peculiarities of nature 
 and circumstances, which are the lines which God 
 Himself has marked out, and the bounds which He 
 has set. There are many administrations, but one 
 Lord ; and if we only get rid of the besetting sin that 
 hinders our perfection, we can make our life as beauti- 
 ful and useful in the sight of God, while we fulfil the 
 manifold obligations of life within the circle of the 
 world's daily customary activity, as though we forsook 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. ^3 
 
 all and followed Christ publicly. We must remember 
 that it was He who had no family ties, no home, no 
 possessions, no aims or objects of a personal kind, 
 who nevertheless consecrated family life, turning its 
 water into wine, and took up little children in His 
 arms and blessed them. It was He who called Matthew 
 from the receipt of custom, and Peter and James and 
 John from the fisherman's toil, to forsake all and 
 follow Christ, who sent home the cured demoniac of 
 Gadara to his family, to bear witness among old friends 
 and associations to the mighty power of God, and 
 delivered the young man of Nain to his widowed 
 mother. 
 
 To a few here and there, now and then, specially 
 qualified and specially circumstanced, He says in their 
 conversion, " Follow Me," in the abandoning of com- 
 mon ties and secular duties, in order to lead a life of 
 entire consecration to the public service of God. But 
 the great majority of those whom He raises from a 
 death in sin, and restores to spiritual life, He delivers 
 to their old friends and their former duties. He re- 
 cognises the first and foremost claims of family life 
 upon them. Among old associations and habits that 
 have become easy, they can testify most powerfully, 
 and with least temptation to self-glorification, on be- 
 half of their Master. The first and best sphere of 
 
124 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 the young convert is undoubtedly in his own home, by 
 his own fireside, among his own brothers and sisters ; 
 since those who had best known him in his dead 
 unconverted state, who had followed his bier sorrow- 
 fully to the grave of sin, will be the most thoroughly 
 convinced of Christ's miraculous power of restoration 
 in his case. "The members of a man's own household, 
 and the familiar friends of his own social circle, are 
 the best judges of the genuineness of his conversion. 
 It is very easy to put on seemings of godliness that 
 shall deceive strangers ; but that must be a true piety 
 which, amid the daily vexations of life and the un- 
 restrained intercourse of the home circle, bears the 
 image of Jesus. The testimony of a man's parents, or 
 wife, or children, or servants, or customers, or em- 
 ployers, to the great change that he has undergone, is 
 worth all the certificates of church courts the world 
 has ever seen. And it is at once a finer proof and a 
 higher manifestation of vital godliness, to live every 
 day in the family circle in the commandments and 
 ordinances of the Lord blameless, than to go forth 
 into the public high-ways to talk and preach about 
 Jesus." Happy is he who is thus delivered to his 
 mother by the hand of the Saviour; who finds the 
 first believer in his restoration in his own mother, or 
 wife, or child ! Happy is the household that can say, 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOX. 125 
 
 with the father of the prodigal, "Rejoice with us, for 
 our brother was dead and is alive again, was lost and 
 is found." 
 
 It is the home that, first after the heart, needs to be 
 purified and elevated. It is the domestic affections 
 and natural duties that require first to be sanctified. 
 They were the first that felt the direful effects of the 
 fall ; they are the first and sorest that suffer from any 
 course of sin. It is the father's heart, the mother's 
 heart that is most grieved by the evil-doing of any 
 member of the household. The home, the family 
 circle, the natural affections, should therefore be the 
 first to experience the blessed effects of saving and 
 restoring grace. Domestic life without God and with- 
 out spiritual hope becomes cold and hard and selfish. 
 But, when the convert is sent back by Jesus to his 
 home and family, it is in order to show that the 
 mighty Hand that raised himself from the dead 
 raised his affections too ; and made him who was a 
 bad son, a selfish husband, a hard father, a careless 
 brother, full of tenderness and gentleness, and thought- 
 ful, unselfish consideration in all these relations. 
 
 Religion, like charity, should begin at home. Here 
 emphatically he that provides not for his own denies 
 the faith and is worse than an infidel. That Christian 
 benevolence which neglects religion at home for the 
 
i 2 6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 sake of carrying it abroad, is a sounding brass and a 
 tinkling cymbal. That convert who talks of his ex- 
 perience in the religious meeting, and shows none of 
 the fruits of it in his dealings with those connected 
 with him, who is a saint in public and a selfish tyrant 
 at home, is a hypocrite of the grossest type. And we 
 may rest assured that if the home feels the influence 
 of a man's conversion, that home will become a centre 
 of holy influence to the neighbourhood. In propor- 
 tion as it becomes more pure and loving, and more 
 like the heavenly home ; in proportion as the life and 
 the love of Christ are acknowledged in it, and the 
 family tie in consequence felt to be more tender and 
 strong, so will the number of those increase who will en- 
 deavour to create such homes over the wide waste of the 
 world, and seek out wider affinities and relationships 
 yet unrecognised. The Christian love that takes in 
 a race and a world has its root in the healthy and 
 permanent centre of the home and the family. Go 
 first, then, all ye who have been restored from the 
 dead by the saving grace of your Redeemer, to the 
 sphere where God hath cast your lot, to your 
 own family, to your own social circle and common 
 round of duties and relationships. Your own heart 
 first, then your own family, then your own church, 
 then your own country, and then the whole world. 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SOS. 127 
 
 This is God's great harmonious law of Christian in- 
 fluence. And remember that you are thus delivered 
 to your home and friends by your Saviour in your 
 conversion, in order that you may prepare them and 
 prepare yourselves for the blessed final restoration of 
 heaven, where the sweet relationships of life, purified 
 from all the stains of earth and perfected for ever, will 
 form one of the most blissful elements in the joy of 
 the redeemed. You are delivered to your friends in 
 grace here that you may be delivered to them in glory 
 
 hereafter. -* 
 
 Upon the spectators the effect of the wonderful 
 miracle was overwhelming A great fear fell upon 
 them, that strange instinctive fear produced by sudden 
 contact with the invisible world, which we feel even 
 in the presence of our beloved dead, on account of 
 the awful mystery in which they are shrouded. They 
 remembered Elijah, who raised the son of the widow 
 of Zarephath just across their own northern border, 
 and Elisha who raised the son of the Shunammite 
 in the ancient village near at hand among their own 
 hills ; and they felt that a greater prophet than even 
 the greatest seers of the olden times had come 
 amongst them, for they with agonies and energies ot 
 supplication had recalled the spirit that had fled, 
 but He had brought the dead to life calmly, inci- 
 
i 2 8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 dentally, instantaneously, in His own name, by His 
 own authority and by a single word. They glorified 
 God that the long period during which there had 
 been no prophet, no supernatural sign, no com- 
 munication between heaven and earth, nothing but 
 the continuous motion of the wheels of Providence 
 along the same beaten track, and the uniform action 
 of the dull unchanging signals of nature that carried 
 the general despatches of the universe, had come to 
 an end at last, and God had come out from behind 
 the veil of nature and broken the silence of heaven 
 and visited His people. They had " open vision once 
 more," and a sense of the nearness of heaven. But 
 far short were their impressions and conceptions, how- 
 ever vivid at the moment, of the glorious truth. They 
 had been so accustomed to separate God from man, 
 that they could not conceive of any other connection 
 between them, except what was arbitrary and in- 
 fused by irregular, transient and local interpositions 
 of an external force. They could not rise to the 
 conception of a continuous, complete communion of 
 the soul of man with God, in the indwelling of the 
 Divine Spirit in man, which is the fundamental 
 experience of Christianity. They did not know that 
 heaven and earth had coalesced in the person of 
 Jesus; that He who appeared to their sleeping an- 
 
ii.] THE WIDOW'S SON. 
 
 129 
 
 cestor at Bethel at the top of the ladder, had now 
 appeared to them at the foot, in order that He might 
 lift them up by the new and living way, by the 
 successive steps of His own obedience, suffering, 
 and death, from the degradation and alienation of sin 
 to the calm pure heights of heavenly grace. The 
 miracle of raising the dead was very wonderful to 
 them, but a far greater wonder was the living presence 
 of Jesus Himself. Even if, like John the Baptist, He 
 had done no miracles, His perfectly pure and sinless 
 life, in the mould of our human circumstances, was 
 a far greater miracle than the creation of the world. 
 The fulfilment of the moral law without us, in the 
 person of Jesus Christ, is the miracle of miracles, 
 which overwhelms the thoughtful mind with astonish- 
 ment and awe. It is that which produces upon us 
 the irresistible conviction that God hath indeed visited 
 His people ; that He is the Word of God who came 
 to reveal and declare His Father to mankind. And 
 we have no further astonishment left when we are told 
 that He did on earth what could be done by the power 
 of God alone. God has visited us not as a mighty 
 Wonder-worker merely, but as a Saviour by Revelation 
 and by Hope ; and the true faith is that which looks 
 up through Him to the Eternal Father in heaven. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 THE RAISING OF LAZARUS. 
 
*35 
 
 St. John xi. 1-47. 
 
 Now a certain man was sick, named Lazarus, of Bethany, the town of 
 Mary and her sister Martha. (It was that Man,- which anointed the Lord 
 with ointment, and wiped his feet with her hair, whose brother Lazarus was 
 sick). Therefore his sisters sent unto him, saying, Lord, behold, he when, 
 .thou lovest is sick. 
 
 When Jesus heard that, he said, This sickness is not unto death, but for 
 the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby 
 Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus. When he had heard there- 
 fore that he was sick, he abode two days still in the same place where he 
 was. Then after that saith he to his disciples, Let us go into Judea again. 
 His disciples say unto him, Master, the Jews of late sought to stone thee : 
 and goest thou thither again? Jesus answered, Are there not twelve hours 
 in the day? If any man walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth 
 the light of this world. But if a man walk in the night, he stumbleth. 
 because there is no light in him. These things said he ; and after that he 
 saith unto them, Our friend Lazarus sleepeth ; but I go, that I may awake 
 him out of sleep. Then said his disciples, Lord, if he sleep, he shall do 
 well. Howbeit, Jesus spake of his death : but they thought that he had 
 spoken of taking of rest in sleep. Then said Jesus unto them plainly. 
 Lazarus is dead. And I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the 
 intent ye may believe ; nevertheless let us go unto him. Then said Thomas, 
 which is called Didymus, unto his fellow-disciples. Let us also go, that we 
 may die with him. 
 
 Then when Jesus came, he found that he had lain in the grave four day* 
 already. Now Bethany was nigh unto Jerusalem, about fifteen furlongs off. 
 And many of the Jews came to Martha and Mary, to comfort them con- 
 cerning their brother. Then Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was 
 coming, went and met him ; but Mary sat still in the house. Then said 
 Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. 
 
134 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [ch. in.] 
 
 But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give 
 it thee. Jesus saith unto her, Thy brother shall rise again. Martha saith 
 unto him, I know that he shall rise again in the resurrection at the last 
 day. Jesus said unto her, I am the resurrection, and the life : he that 
 believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live ; and whosoever 
 liveth and believeth in me shall never die. Believest thou this? She saith 
 unto him, Yea, Lord : I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, 
 which should come into the world. 
 
 And when she had so said, she went her way, and called Mary her sister 
 secretly, saying, The Master is come, and calleth for thee. As soon as she 
 heard that, she arose quickly, and came unto him. Now Jesus was not yet 
 come into the town, but was in that place where Martha met him. The - 
 Jews then which were with her in the house, and comforted her, when they 
 saw Mary, that she rose up hastily and went out, followed her, saying, She 
 ^oeth unto the grave to weep there. Then when Mary was come where 
 Jesus was, and saw him, she fell down at his feet, saying unto him, Lord, if 
 thou hadst been here, my brother had not died. When Jesus therefore saw 
 her weeping, and the Jews also weeping which came with her, he groaned in 
 the spirit, and was troubled, and said, Where have ye laid him? They said 
 unto him, Lord, come and see. Jesus wept. Then said the Jews, Behold 
 how he loved him ! And some of them said, Could not this man, which 
 opened the eyes of the blind, have caused that even this man should not 
 have died? Jesus therefore, again groaning in himself, cometh to the 
 grave. It was a cave, and a stone lay upon it. Jesus said, Take ye away 
 the stone. Martha, the sister of him that was dead, saith unto him, Lord, 
 by this time he stinketh : for he hath been dead four days. Jesus saith 
 unto her, Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest 
 see the glory of God ? Then they took away the stone from the place where 
 the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank 
 thee that thou hast heard me. And I knew that thou hearest me always : 
 but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that 
 thou has sent me. And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud 
 voice, Lazarus, come forth. And he that was dead came forth, bound hand 
 and foot with grave-clothes ; and his face was bound about with a napkin. 
 Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go. 
 
 Then many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the. thing* 
 which Jesus did, believed on him. But some of them went their ways to 
 the Pharisees, and told them what things Jesus had done. 
 
135 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE RAISING OF LAZARUS. 
 
 T^HE raising of Lazarus is made by sceptical writers 
 one of the chief crucial points in determining the 
 authenticity of St. John's Gospel. An unfavourable 
 argument is "drawn from the silence of the other Evan- 
 gelists regarding this event. It does seem strange 
 that no reference should have been made by Matthew. 
 Mark and Luke to an occurrence so great and startling 
 in itself — which must have created a profound and 
 widespread sensation at the time, and which led 
 directly to the execution of those measures of ven- 
 geance which the Jewish authorities had long formed 
 against Jesus. We should have imagined that an 
 incident so touching in all its attending circumstances, 
 and so illustrative of the very heart of Jesus, would 
 have been naturally one on which the Evangelists 
 would have delighted to dwell, and which all of them, 
 
136 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 would have described fully in their narratives. Why 
 only a single Evangelist, therefore, should have re- 
 corded it, is involved in a mystery which we have not 
 the means of penetrating, and which no explanation 
 hitherto given is adequate to clear away. The common 
 reason assigned, that the Synoptical writers forebore 
 to mention the incident during the lifetime of Lazarus, 
 lest it should attract the attention of the authorities' 
 and kindle their animosity against him — such con- 
 siderations of caution having ceased to possess any 
 weight when John wrote long afterwards and out of 
 Palestine — breaks down at once because of its ob- 
 vious want of verisimilitude. We cannot suppose that 
 Lazarus would shrink from any personal danger con- 
 nected with the publication of the miracle, when 
 hundreds in that and the subsequent age willingly 
 laid down their lives as a testimony to their faith, 
 without imputing to him a cowardice unworthy of him, 
 and casting him down from that lofty moral position 
 which he occupies in the eye of all Christians, as 
 the object of Christ's special personal love. Another 
 reason given, viz., that the Synoptical writers mainly 
 describe the events of Christ's life which happened 
 within the region of Galilee, while St. John has con- 
 fined his attention chiefly to Christ's career in Judea, 
 has more apparent force, but it does not really explain 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 137 
 
 the difficulty ; it is only a re-stating of it in another 
 form. Besides, it is not in strict accordance with 
 fact ; for St. Luke, at least, depicts the latter part of 
 Christ's life with even greater care than he bestows 
 upon the earlier portion. 
 
 The difficulty is, however, greatly exaggerated. It 
 is one that belongs to all the Gospels, which are con- 
 fessedly and designedly fragmentary, and based upon 
 a common oral tradition, or derived from a single 
 document, which itself is a compilation, and, as there 
 is ample evidence to show, a very fragmentary one. 
 Each of them gives single narratives peculiar to itself, 
 and yet no one concludes that, because only one Evan- L/ 
 geHst records a circumstance, it must on that account 
 be untrustworthy. The difficulty in question is also 
 essentially a modem difficulty, which would never 
 have occurred to the Evangelists themselves. The 
 disciples did not judge the miracles of Jesus by the 
 standards which we arbitrarily apply, and classify them 
 according to their relative greatness or difficulty of 
 performance. We look upon the raising of the dead 
 as standing apart from all the other miracles, as 
 peculiarly unexampled and stupendous works, so in- 
 herently incredible as to require an amount of proof 
 and circumstantial statement not needed in the other 
 miracles. But the Evangelists grouped together every 
 
1 38 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 class of miracle without distinction, and gave no more 
 special relief or emphasis to the raising of the dead 
 than to the healing of the sick or to the opening of 
 the eyes of the blind. Indeed, the healing of a de- 
 moniac seems to have left a deeper impression, judging 
 from the narratives of the Synoptists, than the restora- 
 tion of a dead person. If the fourth Evangelist does 
 lay more stress upon the raising of Lazarus than 
 upon any other event in the life of our Lord — though, 
 after all, it is not much more circumstantially and 
 fully told than his own story of the opening of the 
 eyes of the blind man in Jerusalem that occurred 
 shortly before — it is not because He is conforming 
 to popular estimates of degrees in miracles, but 
 because the miracle was wrought, not casually and 
 incidentally like the others, but specially and inten- 
 tionally, as a sign manifesting the glory of God and 
 witnessing that Jesus was the resurrection and the 
 life, and revealed in itself and in the circumstances 
 connected with it truths which such a mind as St. 
 John's alone could adequately appreciate and com- 
 municate to others. We feel the miracle to be greater 
 than any of the others, to be the crowning miracle of 
 our Lord's ministry on earth; but there is not a single 
 expression in the record itself which calls our attention 
 to it as occupying that lofty position. 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 139 
 
 But although we cannot reach the final solution of 
 the mystery in question, that is no reason why we 
 should reject the narrative as a mythical poem, as a 
 cunningly devised fable, or a mere transmutation of a 
 sentence of Jesus into a history. It bears within itself 
 the most convincing proof of its authenticity. It ex- 
 hibits in its perfect artlessness and tender humanities 
 the unconscious touch of nature and truth. No im- 
 partial reader but must be deeply impressed with its 
 accurate circumstantiality; while the marvellous con- 
 sistency and naturalness of all its details, and the 
 beautiful breathing human life which it portrays, 
 cannot but powerfully affect the heart. If it be not 
 what it claims, the record of a wonderful historical 
 miracle, then we are shut up to the conclusion that 
 it is an amazing literary miracle, which no conditions 
 of the time can account for, and which human art in 
 all these enlightened centuries has never equalled. 
 Instead of raising objections, therefore, on the ground 
 of the silence of the other Evangelists, we should 
 rather be thankful that one writer has been Divinely 
 led, for whatever reason, to preserve for us this most 
 precious and significant incident, and to dwell upon 
 it with a fulness of detail such as we have in almost 
 no other Gospel narrative. We cannot treat a story 
 that reveals so much of the heart of God and man, 
 
i 4 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 and that appeals to the most sacred and sorrowful 
 feelings of the human bosom, as some have done, 
 with the cold disinterested criticism wherewith we 
 might study in its fossil form the animal and vegetable 
 life of a long past geological epoch, even although we 
 know that it could bear the severest scrutiny of that 
 kind without injury. Touched to the very soul by 
 what in it is beyond all criticism, and truer than all 
 human science and philosophy, we kneel in awe and 
 reverence and immeasurable gratitude upon the holy 
 ground before the transcendent revelation. 
 
 There are links connecting all the Gospels with one 
 another, and one of the most interesting of these is 
 that which unites the story of Lazarus, as given by 
 St. John, with the glimpse revealed to us of the quiet 
 family life in Bethany by St. Luke. St. John pre- 
 sumes that his readers are already acquainted with 
 the previous history of the family; and one of the 
 most remarkable features in the two narratives is the 
 coincidence between the characters of Martha and 
 Maty, as depicted by the two Evangelists,- — the active 
 bustling solicitude of the one, and the quiet earnest 
 thoughtfulness of the other ; a coincidence which pro- 
 duces irresistibly the conviction of the truthfulness of 
 the portraiture, and proves that ( it is no ideal creation 
 that is described, but a living reality. The two sisters 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 141 
 
 speak and act throughout on the occasion of the 
 miracle, in the characteristic manner for which St. 
 Luke had prepared us. 
 
 Mary and Martha lived with their brother Lazarus 
 in the village of Bethany. Much that we should like 
 to have known regarding their previous history and 
 private circumstances has been concealed, and only 
 such a glimpse is given to us of their ordinary life as 
 to make the wonderful incident connected with them 
 perfectly intelligible, and to elucidate the development 
 and discipline of their spiritual life. There is no pro- 
 vision made in the Evangelical history for the mere 
 gratifying of curiosity. Whether Martha, who was 
 evidently the oldest member of the family, was, as 
 some have conjectured, a widow, to whom the house 
 belonged, and with whom her sister Mary and her 
 younger brother Lazarus resided; or whether the sisters 
 managed the household of their brother, or what were 
 the precise circumstances and relations which deter- 
 mined their domestic constitution, we cannot tell. 
 Several things, such as the entertainment of Jesus, 
 the number of friends who came from Jerusalem to 
 condole with the sisters, the possession of a burial 
 vault of their own, the alabaster box and the ointment 
 of spikenard very costly, would seem to indicate that 
 the social position, culture, and wealth of the family 
 
142 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 were much above the average. With this family Jesus 
 had the closest friendship. Their home afforded a 
 quiet retreat to Him from the strife of tongues and 
 the sordid passions of Jerusalem. Under their roof He 
 had enjoyed that refreshing sleep which God gives to 
 His beloved after the weary toils and cares of the day 
 are over; at their hospitable table He had satisfied 
 those common wants of humanity which He shared 
 with us as partaker of our nature ; by their hearth, when 
 the evening lamp was lit, they enjoyed together that 
 communion of heart and fellowship of holy thought 
 which link the earthly with the heavenly home. And, 
 added to these human attractions, were those which 
 nature imparted to the spot. Jesus, as the type of 
 pure humanity, had in its perfect form not only the 
 deep and extended spiritual feeling for nature as the 
 mask of God, which was the peculiar characteristic 
 of the Hebrew race, but also the subtler and more 
 poetical love of natural beauty for its own sake, which 
 belongs to the western nations and to our modern 
 days. He saw the true vision of the hills, and felt the 
 deep soul of lonely places, and recognised the glory 
 in the flower and the splendour in the grass. And for 
 these feelings created by the enduring beauty of nature, 
 — which give us a deep impression of our homeless- 
 ness and inspire our immortality, but which deepened 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 1 43 
 
 the rest of His soul, conscious as it ever was of being 
 at home in a Father's world, — there was ample gratifica- 
 tion furnished by the scenery in the midst of which 
 Bethany was set. Situated only about two miles from 
 Jerusalem, the sound and sight of the great city were 
 completely shut out by the long ridge of the Mount 
 of Olives ; and the view opened only on the distant 
 Peraean mountains blending into the deep blue of 
 the horizon, and in the foreground, on the desolate 
 rocks that hemmed in on every side the steep descent 
 to the valley of the Jordan and the shore of the Dead 
 Sea, clothed with dark shadows of mystery, in keep- 
 ing with the solemn associations of the region — the 
 whole forming one of the most striking landscapes 
 to be found in the south of Palestine. Around this 
 lonely mountain-hamlet, hid in its secluded nook like 
 a violet by its leaves, there seemed to breathe a 
 milder climate, favouring the productions of a warmer 
 zone, than that which belonged to the bare exposed 
 altitude of Jerusalem. The modern village of El 
 Azariah — poor, ruined, half-deserted — which stands on 
 its traditional site, is embosomed even now among 
 richer verdure than any other spot in the neighbour- 
 hood of the Holy City. But the ancient village was 
 distinguished for even greater variety and luxuriance 
 of vegetation. Its name, which signifies The house of 
 
t 44 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 dates, indicates that the date-palm grew there; a circum- 
 stance which is still further confirmed by the palm- 
 branches which the multitude tore down from the trees 
 and strewed in the triumphal path of Jesus. This 
 desert-tree, elsewhere unknown on the high temperate 
 table-land which forms the main portion of Palestine, 
 and confined to the sheltered tropical valley of the 
 Jordan, must have formed a most beautiful and strik- 
 ing feature in the scene, investing it with a peculiar 
 oriental charm. The olive and pomegranate clustered 
 then as now around the dwellings, while the fig-tree 
 cast its broad cool shadows over the gleaming path- 
 ways. To the susceptible heart of Jesus all the 
 beautiful sights and sounds of the lonely village were 
 natural ministers, bringing with them a deeper con- 
 sciousness of Divine love and heaven. He under- 
 stood their mystic inarticulate speech, and read their 
 open secret, and had in the enjoyment of them, as 
 the second Adam, refreshing and strengthening com- 
 munion with the Lord God who walked with Him 
 in this garden in the cool of the day. 
 
 In sacred geography Bethany is known as the town 
 of Mary and her sister Martha, just as Bethsaida is 
 known as the city of Andrew and Peter. No doubt it 
 was so designated, in the first place, to distinguish it 
 from another Bethany beyond Jordan, where John the 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 145 
 
 Baptist had begun his ministry, and to which Jesus 
 had retired because of the persecution of the Jews ; 
 but there is a higher and more tender reason for 
 this peculiar mode of identification. Whatever other 
 claims to notice Bethany possessed, on the score of 
 the beauty and peacefulness of its situation, the posi- 
 tion and character of its inhabitants, and any associa- 
 tions connected with it, they were all absorbed in the 
 one prominent .fact that Mary and Martha lived there. 
 The village was made specially interesting to Jesus on 
 account of that circumstance alone. It was the affec- 
 tion of the sisters that endeared the spot to Him, 
 and made it, to His mind, their own town, as if it had 
 no other inhabitants or owners. And truly the love 
 of Jesus to them has invested the spot with a renown 
 greater far than is possessed by any birth-place of 
 genius, or any scene of human heroism. There are 
 Meccas of the mind and homes of the heart which 
 derive all their interest from their connection with 
 some noble thought, or tender feeling, or splendid 
 deed. To all of us the scenes of earth are precious 
 only because of their association with some one we 
 love. Take away that association, and we feel our- 
 selves homeless in "the very scenes of our birth. 
 America and Australia are to us unknown and un- 
 interesting countries,- until some friend has gone there, 
 
 K 
 
146 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 and drawn our thoughts and affections to them. How 
 desolate and lonely is the city in which we know no 
 one ; it has no connection with our life, it is a strange 
 and alien place. But let us form a tender tie there, 
 and henceforth it is known to us and loved by us as 
 the home of our friend. It is love that baptizes and 
 gives a name to every haunt of men, and every scene 
 of nature ; and all the interest and charm which any 
 town or country possesses, radiate from- some glowing 
 hearth of friendship, or are reflected from looks that 
 we love. Between Mary and the place of her resi- 
 dence there seems to be a harmony, which must have 
 been present to the thought of the Evangelist when 
 he places her name before that of her sister in speak- 
 ing of this beautiful proprietorship of the heart. No- 
 where else, we feel, could such a musing gentle soul 
 have grown up, than in such a quiet and lonely 
 mountain village. The scenery, and the home in the 
 midst of it, the town of Mary, and the heart and mind 
 of Mary, were wonderfully fitted to each other. 
 
 But a day came when a dark shadow which no light 
 can exclude, or rather which the light of human love 
 itself casts — for what enriches and sweetens life the 
 most also saddens it the most — fell upon that peaceful 
 and pious home. Lazarus was stricken down with 
 one of those sharp malignant fevers of Palestine which 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 14; 
 
 break out suddenly and pursue their course rapidly. 
 From the first the dangerous nature of the sickness 
 was apparent. If efficient help, therefore, is to be ob- 
 tained, no time must be lost. In their sore extremity 
 the sorrowing sisters sent for Him who had perhaps 
 already proved Himself to be to them the Brother 
 born for adversity, the Saviour of Israel in the time of 
 trouble, or who, at all events, as they well knew, had 
 manifested Himself as such to many others. Jesus at 
 this time was far away among the deep defiles of the 
 Peraean hills, on the other side of the Jordan, having 
 withdrawn thither to avoid the active hostility of His 
 enemies. He had gone to the place where His public 
 ministry was inaugurated by the baptism of John, who 
 first proclaimed Him to be the Lamb of God which 
 taketh away the sins of the world. His life, after all 
 its mighty developments and achievements, had gone 
 back to the place from which it started. He made 
 this deepest retrogression before manifesting His 
 highest glory in the coming miracle. But the place 
 of His concealment was widely known, for Jesus 
 could not be hid, and many resorted to Him there 
 and experienced such benefits from His hands as 
 induced them to believe in Him. The message sent 
 to Him in this distant spot from the sorrow-stricken 
 home of Bethany is extremely touching in its brevity 
 
I4 8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 and simplicity. " Lord, behold he whom Thou lovest 
 is sick." They did not ask Him to come and see 
 them at once. They did not plead the urgency of 
 the case, or appeal to His pity and help. They did 
 not dictate to Him what He should do. They left 
 Him to the perfect freedom of love, to fulfil the un- 
 assisted promptings of His own tender nature. They 
 had the utmost confidence, not only in His ability, 
 but willingness to help them; they knew that He 
 would share their sadness with them, and bear their 
 sorrow as His own. And therefore the simple an- 
 nouncement of their necessity they thought was suffi- 
 cient. They judged by the fulness of their own heart 
 of what must occupy His; and they knew that He 
 was one who needed not that all the details and 
 circumstances of their trouble should be opened out 
 to Him. 
 
 Very beautiful and profound is the way in which 
 they. worded their message. They did not say, ."He 
 who loves Thee is sick." They drew the silent motive 
 to constrain Jesus, not from any selfish feeling, but 
 from the purest and most disinterested. They knew 
 the ardent love that their brother cherished towards 
 Jesus; and they might well have urged Him to come 
 to their help on that plea. But, with the wonderful 
 insight and delicacy of love, they rose above all per- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 149 
 
 sonal considerations, tender and powerful as these 
 might be, and appealed directly to Jesus' own heart 
 — " He whom Thou lovest is sick." He who said, in 
 regard to external gifts and blessings, that it is more 
 blessed to give than to receive, meant that profound 
 saying to apply in its fullest extent to all things, and 
 most specially to the affections of the heart. To be 
 loved is precious, but to love is far better. The 
 power of loving is the noblest capacity and purest 
 and deepest joy which is known to a human spirit, 
 whatever may be the return that is made to it. Jesus 
 loves the objects of His Divine friendship from the 
 very fulness of His own infinite heart, and not be- 
 cause of their love. He came not to be ministered 
 unto, but to minister • and therefore He loves us, not 
 for what we do for Him, but for what He does for us. 
 It is difficult for our cold hard hearts to enter into this 
 Divine feeling. We are naturally disposed to form 
 our ideas of our Redeemer from materials which we 
 find within ourselves ; and being, as we are, in our 
 fallen state, not only poor, but selfish, we are slow of 
 heart to believe in the all-sufficiency of Divine love 
 which wants nothing for itself, — in that freely-moving 
 disinterested goodness which has no ends of its own 
 to gain, but dispenses, looking for nothing again. 
 Upon our natural aversion to believe the simple and 
 
i S o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 all-comprehensive truth that God is love, is built up 
 all notions of merit. We think we must give to God 
 some price or equivalent for His blessing. We 
 imagine that He loves us only because we love 
 Him \ that He does us good only because we wor- 
 ship and serve Him, and give up some valuable 
 consideration for His sake. Oh ! when shall we learn 
 the blessed truth contained in the sisters' message, 
 and which passes before us in lines of living light 
 on almost every page of Scripture ! When shall we 
 be able to believe that God commendeth His love 
 to us, in that while we were yet sinners — while we had 
 no thought or feeling of answering love to Him — 
 while we were alienated and rebellious — He gave us 
 the highest proof of love, in that Christ died for us. 
 When shall we make our appeal in prayer to Him, 
 not on the ground of our own love, but on the ground 
 of His ; and implore His aid for His own mercy's sake, 
 confident that He who spared not His own Son will 
 not withhold from us any good thing. 
 
 Is there not something in the very form and tone 
 of the words, " Lord, behold he whom Thou lovest 
 is sick," which speaks to us of that calmness in 
 danger and that serenity in sorrow, we should ante- 
 cedently expect from such a pious household. We 
 see no rush of feeling which cannot be controlled ; 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 151 
 
 we hear no useless lamentation. That they felt in 
 their severe affliction with all a sister's tenderness we 
 cannot possibly doubt, for the attachment of all the 
 members of the family to each other was peculiarly 
 deep and devoted. And yet, at a crisis, when those 
 who felt far less would have lost all fortitude, they 
 maintained the most admirable composure. They 
 adopted at once the simplest and wisest plan the 
 case admitted of. The effect of righteousness in their 
 experience was what it is in every case, quietness and 
 assurance. They had breathed so long the atmos- 
 phere of heavenly peace, of the source and centre of 
 repose, that tranquillity became the very element of 
 their soul; and now, when the sudden storm arose, 
 the still small voice within bade the rising waves be 
 still. And so is it always ; the soul that is stayed on 
 God is anchored by an inward calm whenever, and in 
 proportion to the degree in which, all is consternation 
 and alarm around it. Those whom Divine love has 
 taught, and enabled to feel most deeply and lastingly, 
 are always ready and able to act the part which duty 
 and affection require ; and when all that the occasion 
 demands has been done and has failed, and not till 
 then, nature takes its course, and the tears of sorrow 
 flow. How different from those who have no such 
 inward trustfulness or heavenly steadfastness, and who 
 
1 5 2 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 are therefore tossed up and down by the waves, when 
 some critical emergency comes, yielding to every im- 
 pulse of fear and dread, and completely unmanned by 
 emotion ! 
 
 When Jesus heard the message, He said, " This 
 sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, 
 that the Son of God might be glorified thereby." To 
 the disciples in whose hearing He uttered them, these 
 words must have seemed at the time the words of 
 one upon whom the truth flashed not at once, but 
 dawned by degrees. They understood their meaning 
 afterwards, but at the time such must have been the 
 impression which they produced. And there are not 
 wanting individuals who, interpreting them in that 
 light, have brought them forward as unfavourable to 
 the pretensions of Christ to Divine knowledge. They 
 accuse Him of predicting a false issue. It is evident, 
 however, that the saying was uttered with reference to 
 the restoration of Lazarus, which Jesus, who knew the 
 end from the beginning, already beheld in spirit as 
 accomplished. The obscure and enigmatical form in 
 which it was put, was doubtless caused by Christ's 
 design regarding the perfecting of the faith of the 
 sisters ; for the words, while spoken in the hearing of 
 // the disciples, were addressed to the messenger, and 
 were evidently meant to be the answer which he 
 
III.] LAZARl r53 
 
 should earn' back to Bethany. It was part of the 
 same process of discipline with the delay which He 
 made in coming to the assistance of His friends. 
 Sorely must the words of Jesus, when repeated to the 
 sisters, have perplexed them. By the time the answer 
 reached them Lazarus must have been dead. How 
 were they to interpret Christ's confident assurance 
 that the issue of the sickness would not be fatal, when 
 in their darkened home was the terrible confutation. 
 Could He have deceived them ; or could He Himself 
 have been deceived? Was He after all He who 
 should come possessed of Divine knowledge and 
 power, or had they to look in their desolation for 
 another? Thoughts like these must have passed 
 through the mind of Mary and Martha as they kept 
 the lonely and mournful vigil of death, and must 
 have greatly disturbed their confidence in their Friend. 
 Like the mother of Jesus, a sword would pierce their 
 hearts, driven by the very Hand that would have 
 shielded them from all harm. An inward conflict 
 began in their souls regarding the character and 
 claims of Jesus, out of which rich issues afterwards 
 unfolded themselves, but which at the time must 
 have been very grievous. The long trial of their 
 faith was begun in the fire, not only of the sorrow 
 of bereavement, but of that worst of all sorrows, 
 
1 54 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 religious doubt. It is not too much to say that the 
 mental anguish, now tending to faith and now to 
 denial, alternating between fear and the defiance of 
 fear, caused by the difficulty of reconciling the words 
 of Jesus with the actual event, was keener even than 
 the natural grief at their brother's loss. More precious 
 than gold that perisheth was the faith destined to arise 
 out of that fiery trial. We see the commencement of 
 the process of purification, and we can almost notice 
 a gleam of hope kindling in the darkness of the 
 brother's death, and the greater darkness of the 
 Saviour's words and the Saviour's absence. They 
 were being prepared for the precious full-orbed truth 
 of the words when they should be fulfilled; for the 
 time when they should find an echo of them in their 
 own hearts ; and they should acknowledge with ador- 
 ing gratitude that the sickness of their beloved brother 
 was not indeed unto death, but was the birth-pangs 
 and transition process into a higher life, and the dark 
 background against which the glory of God in Christ 
 should be seen by the world in greater clearness and 
 fulness than it had yet been revealed. 
 
 That the sickness was intended not merely for the 
 unfolding of the Redeemer's glory to the world, but 
 also as a means of quickening the spiritual life of 
 Lazarus himself, we cannot doubt. The glory of the 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 
 
 outward miracle of providence was designed to be the 
 sign and symbol of the more wonderful inward miracle 
 of grace. Little is revealed to us of the character of 
 Lazarus. He is one of the " silent lives of Scripture 
 But the fact that Jesus loved him indicated that he 
 must have been a man of high spiritual susceptibility, 
 whose soul was a sanctuary for the deeper and holier 
 thoughts that transfigure our nature. But, like Jacob, 
 he may have had some dross mixed with the gold 
 which needed the refining furnace of suffering. His 
 faith needed the quickening of some strong excite- 
 ment, some great and startling crisis in his life. His 
 nature, like that of many who are weak and frail 
 from their very amiability and loveableness, required ys 
 to be strengthened by a sharp discipline of pain. 
 a sheet of white blotting paper, which scarcely hangs 
 together, is made as tough as parchment by im- 
 mersion in sulphuric acid. It has been suggested 
 that Lazarus may be identified by many very striking 
 coincidences with the young ruler whom Jesus loved. 
 Of none other in the gospel history, save the beloved 
 disciple and the family of Bethany, is that emphatic 
 expression used. The answer given to the young 
 ruler ;; One thing thou lackest," finds a corresponding 
 echo in the words spoken to Martha, " One thing is 
 needful." and are evidently' indicative of the same 
 
I S 6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 spiritual condition. The reverential attitude and salu- 
 tation of the young ruler when he came to Jesus, the 
 stainless purity of his outward life, his eager yearning 
 after eternal life, and the feeling of a want which 
 obedience to the law failed to satisfy — all these were 
 personal traits such as we should have expected to 
 find in the brother of her who had sat at the feet of 
 Jesus and chosen the good part. His wealth and 
 influence also agree with those which, we have every 
 reason to believe, Lazarus possessed. It may be 
 argued against this supposition that the young ruler 
 went away grieved, without fulfilling the condition pre- 
 scribed, and that Jesus allowed him to go away. But 
 surely there is no necessity for construing the silence 
 of Scripture regarding his after fate into evidence of 
 his final rejection. There is no foundation for the 
 vivid picture which Dante in his Inferno presents 
 of him, as blown about like an autumn leaf on the 
 borders of the other world, rejected by heaven and 
 despised by hell, " the shade of him who made, 
 through cowardice, the great refusal " : — 
 
 " L'ombra di colui 
 Che fece per viltate il gran rifiuto." 
 
 We can hardly suppose that he would be allowed to 
 perish in the enfolding embrace of Christ's love ; that 
 
in.] LAZARUS. i_- : 
 
 any one in whom Jesus felt such a profound interest 
 would be permitted to disappear into the outer dark- 
 ness, without some further effort being made to save 
 him. It would be inconsistent with the whole char- 
 acter and conduct of Christ. That would be a harsh 
 creed, indeed, which could easily reconcile itself to 
 the idea that so noble and beautiful a soul had made 
 utter shipwreck of life ; that the love which Jesus 
 cherished towards him, with all the yearning pity 
 and the fervent prayer which it implied, was utterly 
 wasted. Rather should we expect that, after a brief 
 interval of hesitation and reflection, he who went away 
 grieved again sought Jesus for the rest of soul which 
 he could find nowhere else ; and that some way of 
 escape was provided for him out of all his difficulties 
 into the fold of salvation. Christ's own words in 
 connection with his departure, as Dr. Plumptre has 
 well observed, may be looked upon in the light of 
 a prophecy of his return, " With God all things are 
 possible," and u There are last which shall be first" \ 
 We may cherish the hope from these words that the 
 young ruler, whose great riches stood in the way of 
 his spiritual blessing, had been enabled to overcome 
 the obstacle at last, and had actually entered, howe^ 
 hardly, into the kingdom of God. 
 
 Could we adopt this hypothesis of the identity of 
 
f 
 
 158 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 the young ruler with Lazarus, it would explain much 
 that is involved in deepest obscurity. We should 
 have revealed to us the origin of the intimacy of 
 Jesus with the family of Bethany, and we should 
 understand more perfectly the reason why the sick- 
 ness of Lazarus was not unto death, but for the 
 glory of God. If Lazarus was the young ruler, he 
 needed indeed the peculiar discipline of affliction to 
 which he was subjected. Uninterrupted prosperity 
 had hitherto crowned his life with its blessings. He 
 had high position in the church and world, he had 
 social influence and wealth, he had religious respect 
 and the deep devotion of loving hearts who looked 
 upon him with pride, and he had all the fresh ardent 
 feelings and high hopes of youth, with a long bright 
 career before him. But there was a want about him 
 which uniform, long-continued prosperity produces in 
 every man ; a hardness, a selfishness, a worldliness, 
 which impaired the bloom of his nobler qualities and 
 corroded his inner life. The searching eye of Jesus 
 discovered one dark plague-spot on the beautiful bloom 
 of the fruit, which, if allowed to grow and spread, 
 would reduce it to a mass of corruption. Something 
 within him clung with a tenacious grasp to the pleasant 
 attractions of his wealth and honour; while his soul 
 was crying for God,. the living God, and could find 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 159 
 
 no true rest, no pure joy but in Him. For this state 
 of things some remedy, " impossible indeed with man, 
 but possible with God," must be provided. What the 
 loving looks and gracious acts of Jesus failed to mend, 
 required to be corrected with the stern rod of chastise- 
 ment. And he who could not be weaned from the 
 love of his possessions to follow Christ fully and 
 heartily by the loving voice of the Good Teacher, 
 must learn in sore sickness the utter worthlessness of 
 these possessions to satisfy the cravings of his nature ; 
 and, abandoning them in death, must resume them 
 again in his resurrection as a treasure of which he is 
 only the steward, as a sacrifice laid upon the altar of 
 God, and which therefore could never more be per- 
 verted to any selfish or sinful use. 
 
 ;; Xow Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and 
 Lazarus. 'When - He had learned, therefore, that he 
 "was sick, He abode two days still in the same place 
 where He was." We are not told the reason of the 
 delay. Some have conjectured that it was occasioned 
 by His unwillingness to leave His present sphere of 
 labour. He had found beyond Jordan such a fertile 
 field of usefulness, that He would not relinquish 
 spiritual objects for the sake of rendering mere cor- 
 poreal assistance. But this must strike every thought- 
 ful mind as a very insufficient reason. It is perfectly 
 
160 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 evident, from Christ's own words, that He was not 
 detained in opposition to His own wish — that there 
 was no local necessity urging Him to remain. He 
 voluntarily deferred His journey, knowing the issues 
 that hung upon it ; and the Evangelist connects that 
 voluntary delay of Jesus with the love which He bore 
 to the whole family of Bethany — to the dead brother 
 as well as to the living sisters. We must therefore 
 conclude that His refusal to grant the letter of their 
 prayer, was meant to be the fulfilment of the spirit of 
 it ; the fulfilment of it in a higher form. This delay 
 was intended, we may well believe, to assist the faith 
 of Martha and Mary, and to complete the process 
 which His enigmatical words began. He meant to 
 bestow upon them a higher blessing than the mere 
 physical restoration of their brother, and for that 
 higher blessing they were not yet ready. They 
 needed the discipline of waiting, of patience, and 
 trustfulness. Jesus acted towards them as He acted 
 towards the Syro-Phenician woman, keeping back for 
 a while what He was waiting and willing to give, in 
 order by repression, like the restraint put upon a steel 
 spring, to give a powerful stimulus to the energy of 
 their spiritual life. 
 
 How dreary and desolate must have been that long 
 interval to the lonely sisters in Bethany ! How strange 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 161 
 
 and unaccountable must have seemed the absence and 
 neglect of Jesus ! Did no hard thoughts of Him pass 
 through their minds ? The fever increased in violence 
 until at last it snapt the silver cord, and broke the 
 golden bowl at the fountain. Death, outrunning love, 
 came instead of the Life. We can suppose Mary 
 sitting still in the house beside the bed on which her 
 brother had breathed his last, and wondering at the 
 absence of Jesus, until faith itself was on the point of 
 swooning in the vacant gloom. And we can picture 
 Martha going out to the rocky path that led down 
 the deep descent to the Jordan, looking earnestly and 
 wistfully over the distant prospect, shading her eyes 
 with her hands, and brushing away the frequent tear 
 that she may see more clearly. We can see her in 
 fancy watching and waiting hour after hour, glancing 
 down the long reaches of the white road, with a thrill 
 of expectation as some lonely figure comes into view 
 far away, and with a heavy sinking of the heart as the 
 figure approaches and shows a stranger and not the 
 eagerly expected one. Oh ! this tarrying was severe 
 and unaccountable to the sisters, but it was the graci- 
 ous discipline of Divine love. Out of this bitter root 
 was to spring up a beautiful blossom and a delicious 
 fruit. 
 
 And is it not often so in the experience of God's 
 
 L 
 
1 62 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 people still ? In the season of affliction how frequently 
 does the sore struggle last through long hours of dark- 
 ness ! Through the weary watches of the night how 
 often is the cry heard, " O ! that the day would 
 break, and the shadows flee away." God does not 
 deliver His people in the first moment of danger, 
 when the first wail of the tempest is heard and their 
 feet are merely dipped in the foaming billows that 
 lash the shore. He permits them to sink in deep 
 waters and all His billows to go over their soul before 
 He comes to their rescue. He does not allow them 
 merely to be brought to the brink of the furnace of 
 affliction ; He permits them to be placed in the midst 
 of the flames, in the hottest core of it, and leaves 
 them there until the anguish becomes almost insup- 
 portable. He not merely places the cross of trial 
 upon their shoulders for a moment, that they may feel 
 its weight and sharpness, but He leaves it upon them 
 day and night; He commands them to carry it for 
 weeks and months, and sometimes even years, until 
 they are so bowed down under the weight that they 
 cannot look up. This seems strange procedure. on 
 the part of God to the natural eye. It seems incon- 
 sistent with the love and tenderness of One who is 
 touched with a fellow-feeling of our infirmities, and 
 who in all our afflictions is afflicted, to treat His 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 163 
 
 people in this manner. One would naturally suppose 
 that His very love for them, His very sympathy with 
 them in their trial and danger, would prompt Him 
 immediately to interpose ; that He could not bear to 
 look on while they were suffering without stretching 
 forth His hand to relieve. God is said to be a Father 
 who pitieth His children, knowing the frailty of their 
 frames, and yet He suffers them to endure what no 
 earthly father would permit. Were a father to see 
 his son in danger, he would waste not a moment in 
 running to his assistance. The mother does not wait 
 till the last extremity before rescuing her child. At 
 the first cry of alarm she flies to succour. And is 
 Christ less pitiful, less loving ? No ! He is more 
 truly tender and merciful than any earthly relation, 
 and his tenderness and mercy are shown more by 
 delaying than by hastening to deliver. Were He to 
 regard merely our temporal happiness, He would re- 
 move the trial as soon as we felt its sharpness. He 
 would act as we naturally wish Him to do ; for man is 
 impatient of evil, fumes and frets under it, is anxious 
 to be delivered from it as speedily as possible, regards 
 it as the element above all others he would wish away, 
 that which stands out against him as repugnant and 
 superfluous. But Christ, in leaving us under the power 
 of trial for a time, in allowing us to be tossed up and 
 

 1 64 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 down in Adria for many starless and moonless nights, 
 in suffering us to contend till the fourth watch of the 
 night with contrary winds and drenching seas, consults 
 our interests, not our wishes, our highest and lasting 
 good, and not our temporary convenience. He wishes 
 us to lose our life that we may gain it. It is the dis- 
 cipline of waiting to suffer and grow strong; and in 
 proportion to the length of the waiting will be the 
 benefit conferred. It is well for us, through this wise 
 delay on the part of Jesus to come to our help, to 
 feel our own weakness and insufficiency by a thorough 
 testing of our own powers, to look on our right hand 
 and left, and find no succour ; for then, in that hour of 
 our own extremity, in the fourth watch of our night 
 of trouble, Christ will come over the raging billows — 
 no spectre, but a blessed Divine Saviour, able and 
 willing to save to the uttermost, whispering words 
 of peace. and comfort to our souls, "It is I, be not 
 afraid." 
 
 And how is Jesus occupied during this delay, while 
 we are contending with the storm of trouble ? How 
 was He engaged when the disciples were in the midst 
 of the Sea of Galilee in peril of their lives ? We are 
 told that He was alone on the shore, pouring forth 
 His soul in prayer. Strange picture; wonderful con- 
 trast ! That solitary figure kneeling under the stars, 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 165 
 
 and casting His shadow before Him on the brow of 
 the mountain, calmly holding high commune with His 
 Heavenly Father ; and that group of pale-faced, terror- 
 stricken disciples far out on the foaming sea, struggling 
 for dear life with the furious storm ! Oh ! how the 
 thought is fitted to encourage us to wait with patience 
 till the fourth watch of the night comes — though 
 the waters swell high and the winds roar loud — the 
 thought that Jesus is interceding for us. While we 
 are struggling with the billows of time, He is on the 
 eternal shore, hidden by the veil of darkness that 
 separates this world from the next; He is on the 
 mount of God, on the right hand of the throne, pray- 
 ing for us that we may be strengthened and upheld 
 and made conquerors and more than conquerors. He 
 is watching us from that elevated standing-point which 
 no storm can ever reach. His eye marks the rise of 
 every billow and the shrinking of every nerve. He 
 knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust. 
 He knows the force of every storm we encounter, the 
 strength of every temptation that assails us, the weari- 
 ness and anguish of every trial that is laid upon us. 
 He has felt all that we can feel; and therefore He 
 will not suffer us to be tempted above what we are 
 able to bear, but with every trial will provide a way of 
 escape. You think and say, under the pressure of 
 
1 66 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 your trial, " Behold and see if there be any sorrow 
 like unto my sorrow;" but there is no speciality or 
 originality in it. It has been borne by thousands, 
 and borne by Him who is our Forerunner in suffering ; 
 who is the Prince of sufferers. It is the fellowship of 
 His sufferings that we are required to share. And how 
 does His sympathy add intensity and point to His 
 intercession for us. The fact that He feels all that we ' 
 feel, that He has passed through the same trials that 
 are desolating our souls, and the remembrance of 
 which is as vivid in His mind as the scars of the cross 
 are fresh in His body, gives a fervour and power to 
 His intercession of which we can form no conception, 
 and makes it all-prevailing with God. " I have prayed 
 for thee that thy faith fail not." 
 
 ' ' For the prayer of those who suffer 
 Has the strength of love and death." 
 
 We now come to a pause in the narrative. The 
 light forsakes the darkened home at Bethany, and 
 shines upon the scene of our Lord's labours beyond 
 Jordan. We know not how the sisters of Lazarus 
 spent the strange interval of silence and desolation, 
 while they waited in vain for the Divine help upon 
 which they had so confidently reckoned \ but a 
 glimpse is given to us of the manner in which Jesus 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 167 
 
 and His disciples spent it. The Evangelists record 
 a conversation between them, which shows that the 
 spiritual discipline of the disciples was comprehended 
 in that of the sisters. The miracles of Jesus have a 
 wide reference; and just as in the natural world 
 multitudes of special uses and individual advantages 
 in detail are secured when a supreme law is obeyed, 
 so, in the works of Jesus, many received benefits from 
 them incidentally besides those who were the direct 
 objects of them. The woman with the issue of blood 
 was cured while Jesus was on His way to raise the 
 daughter of J aims, and the disciples were being taught 
 and trained in the discipline of Martha and Man*. 
 The delay that was so sorrowful and unaccountable to 
 the sisters was made the means of blessing to His own 
 followers. After remaining two days in Bethabara, 
 engaged in His work of teaching and healing, Jesus 
 said to His disciples, " Let us go into Judaea again." 
 To the disciples this must have been an extra ordinary 
 announcement. They remonstrated with Him on the 
 apparent capriciousness of His conduct. It was but 
 recently that He had escaped from a cruel death with 
 which He was threatened by His Jewish enemies ; 
 He had now secured a quiet retreat, where He was 
 safe beyond their reach, and where He might carry 
 on unmolested His blessed work with as much success 
 
1 68 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 as on the western side of Jordan. It looked to them, 
 therefore, like folly or madness to leave this haven of 
 security and go voluntarily back to the scene of 
 danger, there to tempt His fate. No doubt the solici- 
 tude which they expressed for His safety arose from 
 devoted attachment to Him ; it was as sincere as it 
 was earnest. But there mingled with it a selfish ele- 
 ment. They were anxious about their own safety at 
 the same time ; for they well knew that their own fate 
 was involved in His, that His enemies were theirs 
 also. They did not like, however, to give expression 
 to this selfish feeling in the presence of one so pure 
 and generous ; but it came out very clearly afterwards 
 in the blunt and open speech of Thomas, who took it 
 for granted that to return with Jesus to Judaea was to 
 die with Him. They put their anxiety entirely on the 
 ground of the almost certain death which awaited 
 Jesus Himself. While their words were apparently 
 as unselfish as those of the sisters, " Lord, he whom 
 Thou lovest is sick," they had not the same true ring 
 of disinterestedness in them. From this base element 
 of selfishness the disciples must be purified; they 
 must learn to go with Jesus, whatever may be the con- 
 sequences to themselves, and regard the call of duty as 
 superior to all other considerations ; and the discipline 
 to which they were subjected was the very best means 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 169 
 
 of accomplishing this end. Their faith was also tried. 
 They had low unworthy ideas of the power and 
 mission of Jesus. They reduced Him to the level of 
 an ordinary man. To correct these ideas, Jesus 
 uttered to them a parable, which should have the 
 same effect of exercising their powers of spiritual 
 apprehension as the enigmatical message which He 
 addressed to the sisters of Bethany. By similar 
 means, He was educating both to a clearer and fuller 
 understanding of His Divine nature and methods of 
 working. 
 
 Light is one of the great key-words of the Gospel 
 of St. John. By this most beautiful and expressive 
 image. Jesus is frequently depicted. In the vivid 
 lines of this sublime picture-language, He declared 
 Himself to be the spiritual and eternal light which 
 should reach to the sin-darkened and uttermost parts 
 of the world, and should not only guide His followers, 
 but be in them the light of life. It was a favourite 
 image with Him. He used it often and in various 
 forms. And to every thoughtful mind it must be a 
 matter of deep interest that He should have chosen 
 as the highest and holiest symbol of Himself — in 
 whom is no darkness at all, but who for that very 
 reason is dark to us, because light alone can com- 
 prehend light — that object in nature which is dark 
 
i 7 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 with its own brightness, and contains within it such 
 hidden hues of loveliness, such marvellous powers and 
 strange mysteries; that force in nature which is the 
 calmest and stillest, the most uniform and enduring, 
 the most powerful and necessary, and which, for these 
 very reasons, is the hiding rather than the manifesting 
 of the Divine power. In the parable before us, the 
 reference to this symbol is most simple and instructive. 
 " Are there not twelve hours in the day ? If any man 
 walk in the day, he stumbleth not, because he seeth 
 the light of this world. But if a man walk in the 
 night, he stumbleth, because there is no light in him." 
 There is such a blending of the outward and the 
 inward, of the natural and spiritual, in this suggestive 
 remark — such a mixing up of what refers to the 
 Saviour and of what can only be applicable to the 
 disciples — that the parable is well-fitted to test the 
 extent of their spiritual discernment. The natural 
 reference in it is easily understood. Day and night 
 are contrasted with each other as the season of activity 
 and the season of repose. Day is the time allotted 
 for exertion, in which we can walk about in the trans- 
 action of our business. And this time set apart for 
 our calling has its determinate limits ; the day in 
 Palestine being divided into- twelve hours, which were 
 longer or shorter according as the light broke earlier 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 171 
 
 or later with the season of the year. During this 
 period of activity the sun shines brightly, and by its 
 light men can move about freely and fearlessly with- 
 out risk of stumbling, and perform their task with ease 
 and pleasure. But, should a man reverse this natural 
 arrangement, and walk about at night when he should 
 be resting, and work while he should be sleeping, the 
 darkness would magnify the ordinary difficulties and 
 dangers, and he should be continually running the 
 risk of injuring himself and injuring his work. This 
 natural reference to our periods of alternate work and 
 rest being regulated by the orbs of heaven, is ex- 
 ceedingly grand and solemn. Emerson strikingly 
 says, " This age has yoked its waggon to a star." It 
 makes use of the great forces of the universe in its 
 daily work, harnesses the powers of steam to its ma- 
 chinery, and sends its messages to the ends of the 
 earth on the back of the lightning. What a lesson 
 should this teach us in spiritual things ! If we navi- 
 gate our ships by the positions of the stars — if we 
 transact our daily business by the light of the sun — if 
 we carry on our intercourse with the world by means 
 of the lightning of heaven — should we condescend in 
 the sphere of the soul to the use of things relatively 
 lower? Not by the vain appearances of earth, but by 
 the glorious realities of heaven, ought we to live ; not 
 
I 72 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 at the things seen and temporal should we look, but 
 at the things unseen and eternal \ not by sight, but by 
 faith, should we walk \ not in man, whose breath is in 
 his nostrils, should we trust, but in the Lord Jehovah ; 
 not upon ourselves should we depend for the means 
 of salvation, but upon Jesus Christ, who is the same 
 yesterday, to-day, and forever ; not under the powers 
 of this world should we act, but under the powers of 
 the world to come. Here we are creatures of days 
 and months and years, regulated by sun and moon 
 and stars, which will perish ; but, born anew in Christ, 
 we enter into eternal life — into a kingdom where time 
 has no existence, where one day is as a thousand 
 years, and a thousand years as one day. 
 
 But this leads me to consider the application of the 
 parable — the special meaning which Christ intended 
 the disciples to discern in it. He applied it first to 
 Himself. As our Redeemer, Jesus placed Himself 
 on the level of humanity, and had a day of work given 
 to Him — His appointed period of life on earth. That 
 day was of a fixed, determined length. Of Him it 
 could be said, in a sense in which it could not be said 
 of any one else, that there were twelve hours in His 
 day of life. He was born expressly to die. He came 
 into the world to fulfil a given task, and to live a 
 certain number of years. His times, in a more signifi- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 173 
 
 cant manner than ours, were in the hands of God. 
 He says Himself that His actions were continually 
 regulated by the foreordained order of God. When 
 His time, as he called it, was come, He did what He 
 was appointed to do \ and abstinence from work was 
 always put upon the ground that His time was not 
 yet come. Till, therefore, His allotted task was ac- 
 complished, His enemies could have no power at all 
 against Him. " I must work the works of Him who 
 sent Me," He says, " while it is yet day, for the night 
 cometh in which no man can work." And while He 
 was about His Father's business He was safe every- 
 where — in Judaea as well as in Bethabara — under the 
 broad shield of the Almighty's protection. No evil 
 could possibly shorten His life until the last moment 
 of the twelfth hour had struck the knell of doom. 
 But, besides the length of the day, there was the light 
 of it. Doing the will of God, He should walk in the 
 light. No premature darkness would obscure the path 
 of duty; no shades of evening would descend to 
 hinder the performance of His allotted task. No pur- 
 pose of His own was taking Him to Judaea. He 
 did not seek voluntarily and rashly to place Himself 
 in the way of danger. He had a gracious mission to 
 perform; and He knew that, while engaged in that 
 work of mercy, He should have not only the Divine 
 
i 7 4 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 protection to defend Him, but also the Divine light to 
 guide Him. He should have the cheering light of 
 God's countenance upon every inch of His path, and 
 throughout every moment of the twelve hours of His 
 day ; and within His own soul the blessed sunshine 
 which comes of the single eye that is fixed upon God, 
 and of the weaned will which has no object or aim 
 but His glory. 
 
 But the parable applied to the disciples also. They, 
 too, had their day of life measured out to them ; and 
 nothing could hasten prematurely its close, or abridge 
 the ordained length of it. Engaged with their Master 
 in doing good, the same Divine shield that protected 
 Him would defend them from all evil. Fearing God, 
 they had nothing else to fear. While with Jesus, they 
 bore a charmed life. Going with Him to Judaea, He 
 who shut the lion's mouths when Daniel was cast into 
 their den, and made the fiery furnace, into which the 
 three Hebrew Confessors were thrown, as harmless as 
 the crimson light of sunset upon a cloud, would guard 
 them safely from the hands of their enemies. And, 
 besides the Divine protection, they should have the 
 Divine light. They should have their way made plain 
 to them ; they should have no doubt or difficulty 
 about it ; they should breathe the pure air which God 
 throws around the " sons of light ; " and have within 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 175 
 
 them that Divine radiance which purifies and glorifies 
 the soul, and is the very joy and sunshine of life. 
 Such would be their blessed experience while they 
 walked with Christ along the path of duty. But 
 should they, on the other hand, be self-willed, and 
 seek to accomplish their own objects instead of the 
 will of God \ should they prefer safety to duty, and 
 personal comfort to encountering difficulties and dan- 
 gers in doing good to others, they would be like one 
 walking abroad at night, stumbling over obstacles in 
 the plainest path, and meeting with dangers in the 
 most familiar scenes. They would encounter worse 
 enemies amid the apparent security of Bethabara than 
 awaited them amid the hostile haunts of Judaea ; while 
 the light of the Divine favour would be withdrawn 
 from them, and they would be left dark and lonely 
 and forsaken. 
 
 To us, too, the words of Christ have a profound 
 significance. God has given to us a certain period of 
 time in which to do His work. It may be short, or it 
 may be long, but it is sufficient for the work. Till 
 that work is done we are immortal. Nothing can de- 
 prive us of the residue of our years. On the path of 
 duty we are as safe as the arm of God, on which hang 
 the shields of the earth, can make us. Noah preached 
 righteousness, and the floods could not touch him ; 
 
176 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 the three Hebrew Confessors would not bow down 
 the knee to an idol, and the flames could not consume 
 them. God's hand held up these witnesses for the 
 right, and saved them without the loss or harm of a 
 thing that they loved. And so, whether we pass 
 through fire or water, neither the one nor the other 
 can harm us while God is with us. Sealed by His 
 Spirit, with His name on our foreheads, the winds and 
 storms are held in leash by the angels, who are our 
 ministering spirits, so that they cannot hurt us ; and, 
 amidst the crash and wreck of the Last Day, when all 
 created things shall rush to ruin, we shall lift up a 
 serene and fearless brow, for, having the Spirit of 
 Christ, we are in harmony with the order and beauty 
 of all the worlds. Yes ! the man who stands with 
 God stands absolutely beyond reach of harm. The 
 man who seeks first the kingdom of God and His 
 righteousness may dwell " quiet from the fear of evil ; " 
 no blight can wither him, no malignant influence can 
 compass his ruin, till the last moment of his day of life 
 is ended, and all his work is finished. But, more than 
 this, such a man is not only the king of circumstance 
 — and all providence becomes to him special provi- 
 dence — but he has the clear conception and full con- 
 viction of what is right and good and true — that bright 
 vision of the holiness of God — that prompt instinct of 
 
in.] LAZARUS, i 77 
 
 what is the best course to do in difficulty and trial — 
 which proceed from purity of heart and singleness of 
 aim. The sunshine of his own spirit will reflect itself 
 upon all his life; and, while others stumble over 
 rough paths in darkness and perplexity, he walks con- 
 fidently along a path of pleasantness and peace in the 
 daylight of God's smile. Beyond the mists in which 
 his fellows are groping, he sees all the beauty and 
 brightness of this world, and all the glory of the next 
 — things which are eclipsed by the shadow of a false 
 life. 
 
 After Jesus uttered this beautiful parable, He spoke 
 no more on that occasion, and probably went on 
 with His ordinary work of teaching and healing the 
 multitude. During this interval Lazarus died, and 
 Jesus knew the fact from His own Divine conscious- 
 ness, for we cannot suppose that a fresh messenger 
 had been sent from Bethany with news of the death, 
 else the Evangelist would not have omitted the circum- 
 stance from his minutely accurate narrative. But 
 while announcing the fact thus known by the intuition 
 of His own spirit to the disciples, He veiled it in a 
 continuation of the same enigmatical language He 
 had formerly used, and for the same reason, viz., to 
 test their faith and spiritual discernment. He speaks 
 of death, in the language of heaven, as a sleep, " Our 
 II 
 
178 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 friend Lazarus sleepeth, but I go that I may awake 
 him out of his sleep." Sleep is so natural an image 
 of death that it is as old as the human race. It is 
 common to all nations and languages and religions. 
 A corpse, immediately after life has fled, is so like a 
 body hushed in its nightly repose, that the idea 
 of death being but a sleep is irresistibly suggested. 
 Humanity has ever cherished the fond belief that in 
 death consciousness is suspended, but not destroyed ; 
 that something remains to link the dead with the 
 living. But it is the Christian religion that has dis- 
 closed the full beauty of the image. The words " Our 
 friend Lazarus sleepeth" on the lips of Jesus have a 
 precious significance. They assure us that the uni- 
 versal belief of mankind is not a poetical imagination, 
 the wish being father to the thought, but a blessed 
 truth; that death, like sleep, is distinctly and absolutely 
 a process of life, of refreshment and reconstruction, 
 benign and beautiful as are all evolutions of life. The 
 image, indeed, does not impart much information to 
 the mind. It leaves death as mysterious as ever. 
 Sleep and death, the twin-brothers, are born out of 
 . the same womb of primeval mystery. What sleep is 
 we cannot tell any more than we can tell what death 
 is. The most familiar thing in life, that comes to 
 every human being every twenty-four hours, in which 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 179 
 
 we spend a third of our whole time, and by which, 
 as the poet says, our whole life is rounded, we are yet 
 profoundly ignorant of its nature. Death and sleep 
 are among those things which we think we under- 
 stand best, and yet can explain least, for it is their 
 very simplicity that baffles us. They are so simple 
 that they cannot be resolved into anything simpler. 
 They are so entirely themselves that we can only say 
 that they are what they are. But while the com- 
 parison of death to sleep does not give us much 
 insight into its nature, it at least robs death of its 
 terror and soothes the bereaved heart; for our own 
 experience, a thousand times repeated, has convinced 
 us that sleep is a refreshment and a rest, and if death 
 be a sleep, then we need not fear to fall asleep in its 
 cold embrace, we need not fear that our beloved ones 
 are utterly lost to us when they have closed their eyes 
 in this mysterious slumber. 
 
 Jesus shared this sinless infirmity of our nature as 
 He shared all others. We read that He slept the 
 profound sleep of exhaustion in the boat on the Sea of 
 Galilee, taking His rest in the bosom of the storm. 
 That thought makes our sleep sacred. It gives a 
 deeper meaning, a new tenderness to the words, " He 
 giveth His beloved sleep." We resign ourselves more 
 trustingly to the amis of repose every night, when we 
 
180 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 know that the omniscient Eye that watches over us 
 once yielded to human weakness and closed in sleep. 
 A sleepless God is an awful conception, but the 
 thought of a Saviour who laid his weary head on 
 a human pillow, and subsided into unconsciousness 
 under the same heaven with ourselves, is inexpressibly 
 sweet, and awakens by the conjunction a most strange 
 association of nearness. An eye that never closes, over 
 which no film of darkness, no cloud of slumber can 
 ever gather, seems to us terrible in its sublime exalta- 
 tion above all human infirmities. Like the burning 
 cloudless sky of the East, it seems to scorch and weary 
 us with its dazzling uniformity. But an eye that has 
 closed in sleep, on which the dim mists of temporary 
 forgetfulness have gathered, seems to us unutterably 
 tender in its human susceptibility. It is like the soft 
 weeping blue skies of April in our northern clime, 
 flecked. with snow-white clouds, that refresh the soul 
 as well as the body. We look upon our Brother in His 
 human sleep more tenderly than even in the mercies 
 and charities of His working life. We are moved to 
 ask "What manner of man is this?" in the deep 
 sleep of exhaustion more than in the fresh power of 
 quelling the storm. "The very heaven of sky and 
 star that ceils the august chamber of His sleep," as 
 it has been beautifully said, "is more sanctified from 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 181 
 
 beneath than before it was from above." And when 
 we associate with the idea of our Saviour's human 
 weakness the idea of His Almighty power, we have, 
 in the blessed combination, the assurance that He 
 who shared our sleep on earth now watches over us, 
 on the throne of glory, with a vigilance and a tender- 
 ness which nothing can evade or overreach to harm us. 
 It is, if we think aright of it, a terrible thing to lose 
 our consciousness, even in sleep; to be drowned, as 
 it were, out of active life for a brief space, even in the 
 refreshing Lethean waters of slumber, to yield to dumb 
 forgetfulness a prey for a few hours, even though it 
 be to refresh and invigorate it, this pleasing, anxious 
 being. Children instinctively feel this, and dislike to 
 go to bed, and fight against sleep as long as possible ; 
 and though we who are grown older and wiser seek 
 our pillow even- night as a refuge from care, as a 
 rest from toil, and count sleep as our kindest friend, 
 still it is because of our heedlessness and callousness 
 that the feeling of the child does not come back to 
 us, and we seldom think how solemn, how awful it is 
 to give up the control of our being without knowing 
 what is to become of it, to yield ourselves to a power 
 which may cany us whither we would not. How 
 sweet, then, to give our souls to Christ to keep, to 
 commit the interests of our being into the hands of 
 
1 82 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 Him who shared our infirmity that He might be 
 tender to it ; who knows the sleep of the weary, the 
 careworn, and the sorrowful, not by His Divine know- 
 ledge merely, but by His human experience, that the 
 recollection of His own sleeping moments on earth 
 might make His sleepless vigil over us, when we are 
 locked in the arms of repose, if possible more gentle 
 and faithful; that there might be the feeling of the 
 loving mother bending over her sleeping babe, com- 
 bined with that of the all-powerful Creator watching 
 over His creatures enjoying the rest needed to fit 
 them for new labours and new sorrows. And how 
 sweet in the end to take the last long sleep, when 
 the toils and sorrows of life's weary day are over, to 
 lose our consciousness in death under the shadow of 
 His cross, in the arms of Him who liveth and was 
 dead and is alive for evermore, and thus to pass 
 through, the darkness of time into the morning light 
 of eternity : — 
 
 ' ' ' Sleep soft, beloved ! ' we sometimes say, 
 Who have no power to charm away 
 Sad dreams that through the eyelids creep : 
 But never doleful dream again 
 Shall break the blissful slumber, when 
 He giveth his beloved sleep." 
 
 Very precious, too, are the words in which Jesus 
 speaks of Lazarus, confirming and deepening the 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 183 
 
 blessed truth that death is but a sleep. He calls him 
 " our friend 3 " and how brightly do these words stand 
 out against the dark ideas we commonly entertain of 
 death ! Death is perfect isolation, the loneliest of all 
 things. It separates a man from his true self; one 
 part of his nature from the otEer. It oits~ J on r tne 
 body from communion with its world. The eye can 
 no longer behold the sunlight, or the lungs breathe 
 the vital air, or the organs of the body assimilate the 
 vital food ; these elements of its life are around it, but 
 it is insensible to them all. It cuts a man off from 
 the society of his fellows ; the dearest friend cannot 
 enter into the chill, worse than polar, solitude that 
 encompasses him. All communion and ministry of 
 love are at an end. It is a deep dark abyss into 
 which the light of God's countenance itself seems 
 hardly able to penetrate — 
 
 " So lonely 'tis that God Himself 
 Scarce seemeth there to be." 
 
 Death is the most individualizing of all things. Each 
 one dies by himself, even when a plague or the rout 
 of an army slays its hundreds of thousands. And yet 
 the words of Jesus Christ tell us that this awful loneli- 
 ness is only in appearance. He shows the other side 
 of death as a grander fellowship. Lazarus, though 
 
1 84 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 dead, is still not only the friend of Jesus, but the 
 friend of the disciples also. The ties which bound 
 them together in holy fellowship have not been 
 severed by death, for they regarded not the body, but 
 the spirit, and fell under the powers of the world to 
 come. Lazarus has gone to join the great majority; 
 he has entered through death into the society of all 
 the saints that ever lived ; and, though separated from 
 the friends he left behind, he is still related to them. 
 The separation between them is only partial, for be- 
 lievers here and believers in the other world make but 
 one communion. It is sin alone that separates friends 
 on earth from friends in heaven. It is sin that breaks 
 every tie here ; it is sin that breaks every tie beyond. 
 'No departure to the utmost bounds of the universe 
 can so separate spirit from spirit, as does the slightest 
 deviation of the one from the path of holiness in which 
 the other is walking with God. '_So long, therefore, as 
 
 we keep from sin and follow holiness, we are not 
 wholly parted from those who have left us behind in 
 this vale of tears. We continue in their communion ; 
 we partake with them of the same celestial food ; we 
 are sensible of the same God who fills both heaven 
 and earth, time and eternity — who filleth all in all. 
 Like the mariner who crosses the equator, and while 
 the old familiar Plough has disappeared from the 
 
in.] LAZARUS. ^5 
 
 sky, and the strange new constellation of the Cross 
 shines lustrously overhead, sees the same sun, only of 
 brighter ray, in whose warmth and light he rejoiced 
 at home ; so those who cross the mysterious boundary 
 of death see new secrets of the heavens — glories un- 
 revealed to our eyes darkened by the shadow of this 
 earthly hemisphere — but the same Sun of Righteous- 
 ness which shines with intense light upon them makes 
 our beautiful daylight for us here. The transition, or 
 distance, that changes all else, does not change Him 
 who has no parallax, no shadow of turning ; and from 
 Him, and one another in Him, neither life nor death 
 can divide us. In answer to our Saviour's prayer, we 
 all are one — one after the image of God's unit}', and 
 consequently of God's eternity — for that which is in- 
 dissolubly united will last for ever. Death makes no 
 change to the love that is purified by the Divine ; and 
 heaven and earth are one. All that is sweetest and 
 loveliest in those who have gone from us remains with 
 us as an inalienable possession. Our friends die to us 
 only when we forget them, or cease to love them ; and 
 that which dies within us is the saddest part of what 
 death takes away. So long as we love and remember 
 our dead, they are ours always and truly, for life is love 
 and love is life. The living may change to us, or we 
 to them; sin may divide and strife come between the 
 
T 86 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 dearest friends, but the beloved dead remain the same 
 to our memory and to our love forevermore. 
 
 " Our friend Lazarus sleepeth." To us these words 
 have now a higher meaning than they could have had 
 at that time to the disciples. Jesus has since died 
 and risen again. And now we are planted together in 
 the likeness of His death. Death is a solitary thing 
 no longer. It is now the centre of attraction and 
 unity to all who fall asleep in Jesus. What we 
 thought was the very root of division, becomes now 
 the very ground of union ; and where darkness seemed 
 to reign absolute and alone, we now apprehend a 
 communion of light and love in which there is no 
 darkness at all. He whom all His disciples forsook 
 in death — who had felt forsaken of God Himself — 
 has, by going through that awful experience, robbed 
 death of its loneliness; and, planted together in the 
 likeness of His death, we are no more perishing 
 creatures, divided from each other by the little passing 
 interests of earth, and only united by that great curse 
 which is at last to terminate these interests and our 
 connection with each other for ever, but we are held 
 more closely together by the bands of a perfect human 
 fellowship which death cannot break, because the 
 Love which established them had in death proved 
 itself to be stronger than death. 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 187 
 
 It is probable, too, that by the endearing expression 
 which Christ used, " our friend," He desired to arouse 
 the sympathy of the disciples with the fate of Lazarus. 
 They were absorbed in selfish regard for their own 
 safety ; but, by speaking of Lazarus as their friend as 
 well as His own, He wished to draw them away from 
 their selfishness, and impress upon them the duty 
 which they owed to the dead. As a stranger, Lazarus 
 might have no claim upon them ; they might have 
 regarded his death with that transient interest which 
 the funeral of an unknown person passing through the 
 street awakens in our minds ; but, as their own 
 friend, he has a right to their affection, and to all the 
 sad offices of love which a living friend can pay to a 
 dead one. How touchingly, therefore, does Jesus 
 appeal to those instinctive feelings of our nature 
 which the sorrow and death of our friends produce in 
 the breasts even of the most callous and selfish ! And 
 how skilfully does He make those feelings conduce 
 to accomplish the gracious purpose which He had set 
 before Himself! Not for His own sake was He 
 going to encounter danger in the land of His enemies, 
 but for the sake of the disciples also. They were as 
 much concerned in the object of His mission as He 
 was Himself, for was not His friend theirs ? 
 
 " But I go that I may awaken him out of his sleep." 
 
1 88 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 Some critics have dared to say that " the Christ whom 
 John paints is ostentatious in His miracles." Where 
 is there any ostentation here? Simpler terms could 
 not have been used to describe the stupendous miracle 
 which they imply. Instead of boasting of and exalt- 
 ing the great work which He was about to do, He 
 talks quietly of it as only awakening a man from sleep. 
 We hear no sounds of triumph, no swelling words of 
 vanity from Christ. He does not cry, nor lift up, nor 
 cause His voice to be heard in the streets. With the 
 Divine calmness and self-possession so characteristic 
 of Him, so always characteristic of Divine power, He 
 alludes to the greatest of all His achievements on 
 earth. So gentle and still are His words that the 
 disciples misunderstand their meaning. They cannot 
 suppose that He could thus have spoken of death 
 and a raising from death. To them the sleep to 
 which He alludes is only a natural repose, and they 
 say, " Lord, if he sleep, he shall do well. ,, They 
 thought that the crisis of the fever had come, and 
 that Lazarus was now enjoying that long, refreshing, 
 peaceful rest which is an indication of a favourable 
 change in the dangerous illness. Combining these 
 words, " Our friend Lazarus sleepeth," with the assu- 
 rance given before that his sickness was not unto 
 death, they were persuaded that he would not actually 
 
in.] LAZARUS. ^9 
 
 die. They were therefore not concerned about him, 
 and they could see na reason why Jesus should expose 
 Himself and them to danger when all was going on 
 favourably without them. 
 
 The language of heaven was not level with the 
 dull apprehensions of the disciples. They thought 
 that Jesus spoke the common dialect of men. And 
 assuredly, if out of the abundance of the heart the 
 mouth speaketh, we need no other proof of the de- 
 generacy and fall of man, than the meaning which is 
 attached by general consent to some of the terms that 
 are in common use. How exclusively, with reference 
 to temporal concerns and earthly interests, do we 
 understand the ordinary terms of salutation. We 
 utter such courtesies of speech without ever consider- 
 ing accurately what they mean ; and, did we thought- 
 fully analyze and define them, we should be astonished 
 to find how completely our higher hopes and wishes 
 are excluded from them; how entirely they refer to 
 the welfare of the body, and ignore the well-being of 
 the true man, the soul. We cannot, of course, avoid 
 using the language of the world now, for it has woven 
 itself so completely into the texture of ordinary 
 life, and is regarded as so much a part of the 
 habits of our nature, that to speak in any other way 
 would be considered pedantic. Were we to use the 
 
i 9 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 language of heaven on the streets of earth, our speech 
 would be as unintelligible to society as the speech 
 of Jesus was to the disciples. If we should speak 
 of death as a sleep only, the world would laugh us 
 to scorn as the hired mourners did to Jesus. We 
 need to have our language, as well as all the habits 
 of life, elevated by our Christianity. We need to 
 have its terms expanded and ennobled by what has 
 made ourselves new creatures. 
 
 The disciples could not reach to the height of 
 Christ's great argument. He therefore stooped from 
 heaven's figurative language to the common speech 
 of men. He dropped His language of tender indirect- 
 ness, and told them plainly and explicitly, " Lazarus 
 is dead." How dreary and cold is this common 
 speech of the world ! It has no gleam of light upon 
 it, no heavenly tone in it. Lazarus is dead; and there 
 is an end of all hope and love and life; a cold mist 
 descends and obliterates heaven and earth; a dark 
 abyss opens up and swallows everything. No more 
 can be said but these dull dead words, that are as 
 dark and cold as the thing they imply. But Jesus 
 will not let these common-place words of the world, 
 which He is obliged to use, fall alone upon the ears 
 of His disciples; He will accompany them with words 
 of eternal life. He will anticipate a difficulty which 
 
in.] LAZ ARC'S. I9I 
 
 might arise in their minds as to why He was not 
 on the spot to save His friend : " And I am glad for 
 your sakes that I was not there, to the intent that 
 ye may believe.'' Had Jesus been beside his couch, 
 Lazarus would not have died. In the presence of 
 the Prince of Life, death would not have dared to 
 hurl his dart. Had Jesus arrived while the fever was 
 going on, He who was never present at a death-bed 
 would have found it impossible, in the bosom of the 
 family He so much loved, to resist the entreaty to 
 restore the patient to health. He would thus have 
 added another work to His many works of healing, 
 but how much would have been lost to the world ! 
 Strauss, and others like him, pronounce it immoral 
 in Christ to let His friend die in order to glorify 
 Himself. But this is a complete misunderstanding of 
 Christ's design. We know that it was as easy for Him 
 to raise a dead as to heal a sick man; and in permitting 
 the sickness of Lazarus to run to a fatal termination, 
 
 - not to exalt the miracle, but to accomplish 
 purposes of grace which the mere healing of the sick- 
 
 . ould not have effected. Through that death a 
 higher life was about to arise. Through Christ's absence 
 a greater revelation of the glory of God was to be 
 manifested than could have been given by His earlier 
 presence on the spot. For our sakes, as well as for the 
 
1 92 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 sake of the disciples, Jesus restrained His Almighty 
 arm, and delayed His help to the last extremity. 
 Had He interfered sooner, we should have missed 
 the sublimest proof of His triumph over death before 
 He suffered, the exquisite sympathy of His tears, His 
 wise and tender dealing with the bereaved sisters, 
 for which, nothing else would have compensated us. 
 Four clays of bitter anguish would have been saved 
 to Martha and Mary, but consolations which eternity 
 alone can measure would have been lost to them and 
 to us. Joy to the man of sorrows was rare, and its 
 zest was always salted by a touch of woe. But 
 it was ever a noble joy; a joy that could look 
 beyond sorrow and death, and snatch its effulgence 
 from their very gloom. He was glad that the things 
 of eternal life were hid from the wise and prudent and 
 revealed unto babes. He was glad that Lazarus was 
 allowed to die, that the disciples might be able from 
 that depth of sorrow and death to climb to higher 
 heights of faith than they had hitherto reached, and 
 might attain, against the dark background of that woe, 
 a brighter recognition of Himself as the Lord of life 
 and death, than they had ever yet compassed. The 
 faith of those whom Jesus loved was more precious to 
 Him than their happiness, and their eternal interests 
 of more concern than the blighting of any temporal 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 193 
 
 well-being, or the extinction even of the natural life 
 itself. To the intent that the sisters and the disciples 
 might believe, might understand more thoroughly 
 who He was, and to confide in Him more implicitly, 
 He spared not Lazarus. To the intent that we 
 might believe, God spared not His own son ! And, 
 if it is necessary, in order to increase our faith and 
 deepen our love, God will not spare us any of the 
 trials through which the precious result can be ac- 
 complished. 
 
 When Jesus announced His intention of going to 
 Lazarus, notwithstanding that he was dead, Thomas, 
 called Didymus, said to his fellow disciples, " Let us 
 also go, that we may die with Him." Only on three 
 occasions is this disciple brought before us, but the 
 traits of character which he displayed on these occa- 
 sions are in such beautiful harmony as to give us a 
 vivid portrait of him. He was evidently of a gloomy ) 
 and desponding disposition. He looked naturally on 
 the darkest side of things, and walked by preference 
 on the shady side of life. Thought predominated 
 in him over action, and intellectual reflection over 
 self-surrender and trustfulness. His faith was slow ; he 
 could not believe without very clear proof. But he was 
 a warm-hearted, generous man, and therefore, although 
 he believed he was going to certain death, he hesitated 
 
 N 
 
1 94 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 not to cast in his lot with Jesus. All that his Master 
 had said about His own safety and the safety of all 
 who accompanied Him on the path of duty, had pro- 
 duced no effect upon him. But he counted it better 
 to die with Christ than to live without Him. To 
 raise this weak faith up to the level of the strong 
 devotion which his resolution implied; to make his 
 trust in Jesus as the Divine Son of God equal at 
 least to his trust in Him as his own loving human 
 friend, was to be the discipline and the triumph of 
 the miracle about to be wrought. And we know that 
 that miracle helped, among other things, to produce 
 such a change in the doubting, desponding disciple, 
 that he who now hardly ventured to go with Jesus 
 to Bethany, afterwards fearlessly travelled to the ends 
 of the world without Christ, proclaiming among in- 
 numerable perils the blessed gospel of the resurrection, 
 which had lifted himself above all fear of death. For 
 strengthening the belief of such a man, even although 
 it did nothing else, the death of Lazarus was not too 
 great a sacrifice. We, too, have doubts and fears such 
 as Thomas had ; but no doubt ought to prevent us 
 from doing our duty ; no fear should hinder our devo- 
 tion to Him who so loved us that He fearlessly gave 
 Himself for us. And if we seek to imitate the single- 
 eyed resoluteness of Thomas, our faith will be increased 
 
in.] LAZARUS. I95 
 
 as his was. That which held Thomas to his belief 
 in Christ, in spite of all his intellectual difficulties and 
 the force of circumstances, was his personal love to 
 Him; and that which will hold our soul fast, and 
 bring it back even after it has been to all appearance 
 carried away, is also personal love to Jesus. We can 
 retain this love even amid all our doubts and difficulties ; 
 and it will enable us to wait and suspend our judg- 
 ment till we can look fairly at those doubts and per- 
 plexities, and face them, assured that, come what may. 
 nothing can come between us and our loving Saviour. 
 And on the darkness of that devotion which follows 
 Christ on the path of duty even unto death, assuredly 
 will break the clear full light of a faith that can never 
 more be shaken. 
 
 About all the dealings of the Divine economy, as 
 revealed in the Gospels, there is a wonderful domes- 
 ticity, if I may use the expression. The majestic 
 event of the Incarnation is ushered in amid family 
 details which might belong to any common home. 
 We read about the manger, and the little child, and 
 the swaddling bands, and the Virgin mother, and the 
 birth-day greetings and gifts, just as we might read an 
 account of the circumstances connected with the birth 
 of an ordinary infant. At first sight, the greatness 
 and significance of the incidents do not strike us ; so 
 
196 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 purely familiar and natural do they appear. But, 
 when we ponder them, we feel deeply that thus it 
 behoved the Son of Man to come into our world \ we 
 feel how strictly accordant with the intimate relation- 
 ships established between God and man, and between 
 man and man, by the Incarnation, are all these do- 
 mestic details. We are apt to convert into dry 
 spiritual doctrines, what, in the first instance at least, 
 were living human experiences; to exalt the truths 
 that concern our salvation above flesh and blood; 
 above the naturalness of human life, as if they had 
 nothing to do with it, and belonged to another realm 
 altogether. But, rightly considered, the simplicity 
 that is in Christ Jesus concerns itself with almost 
 nothing else but ordinary human life. The love of 
 God is only natural affection — the first affection of 
 the human heart before it yielded to other false un- 
 natural loves ; and, therefore, all that the Gospel aims 
 at is just to bring back this first love. We know the 
 love of God, whom we see not, the apostle tells us, if 
 we love the brother with whom our daily common life 
 is spent ; we know the goodness of the Lord, to which 
 we cannot reach, in the goodness of the excellent of 
 the earth, who are our associates ; and what we do to 
 the least of Christ's disciples, whom we have always 
 with us, we do to Christ Himself, whom we have not 
 
in.] LAZARUS. l 97 
 
 always. The hidden mystery of the plan of redemp- 
 tion is taught to the heart of the child long before its 
 head can understand it. beside the altar of a mother's 
 knee, where a perpetual sacrifice of self-denying love 
 is ascending to heaven, and a constant mediation of 
 tenderness and mercy is carried on. The Christian 
 graces are only, so to speak, the natural human affec- 
 tions and impulses, purified of all their selfishness and 
 sinfulness. The Christian life is the ordinary life 
 lifted above its sordidness, and made pure and beauti- 
 ful by the heavenly sunlight ; the duties and relations 
 of Christians are the eminent heights of the duties 
 and relations of all human brethren ; and the Church 
 of God, in its true idea, is not the contrast and 
 counterfoil to the world which Christ has redeemed, 
 but its bright exemplar. All that is truly and sub- 
 stantially human is but the pattern of that which is 
 Divine. " All th-e hard stones of theology, carve and 
 chisel them as we will, fit into the quiet walls of our 
 Father's house — the boundless and everlasting home." 
 This naturalness and domesticity, characteristic of 
 all Divine things, is very instructively displayed in the 
 story of the raising of Lazarus. The supernatural is 
 so blended with human things that it scarcely seems 
 to rise above the natural. How easily do the sublime 
 revelations of Divine love fit into the ordinary ways of 
 
i 9 8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 a mourning household! There is no incongruity be- 
 tween them i they seem part and parcel of the same 
 experience. The Divine doings of Jesus take the 
 mould and pattern of ordinary deeds appropriate to 
 the occasion ; and His profound and far-reaching say- 
 ings are not uttered oracularly, and at a great height 
 above human levels of thought and feeling, and 
 clothed in formal special modes, but in such conversa- 
 tions with the disciples as one human being might 
 have held with another, and in such interviews with 
 the bereaved sisters as earthly friends have often had 
 with one another in seasons of darkness and sorrow. 
 What, for instance, can be more simple and natural 
 than the circumstances in which Jesus revealed Him- 
 self to Martha as the Resurrection and the Life ? That 
 revelation shaped itself according to the character, the 
 words and acts of Martha. It was drawn forth from 
 the occasion as it rose. It borrowed its imagery from 
 the associations of the moment. We should have 
 expected that such a glorious truth would have been 
 proclaimed in a set and formal discourse, on a grand 
 occasion, and to a grand assemblage. But Jesus 
 uttered it in a transient conversation, at a chance 
 interview, in a sudden reply drawn forth by the 
 appeal of a sorrow-stricken woman who came forth to 
 meet Him alone. Nothing can be more homely than 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 199 
 
 the way in which the Evangelist describes the en- 
 counter ; and yet, into these simple, homely circum- 
 stances, was cast the most sublime and significant 
 truth that has ever been uttered in our world — a truth 
 that has done as much to enlighten its spiritual dark- 
 ness as the primeval command, " Let there be light,'' 
 did to illumine its material darkness. 
 
 " Then, when Jesus came, he found that he had lain 
 in the grave four days already." It is not likely that 
 the sisters would have sent a messenger to Christ 
 until the worst symptoms of their brothers illness had 
 appeared ; and therefore it is reasonable to suppose 
 that Lazarus died in the night which followed the 
 arrival of the messenger, and, according to Jewish 
 custom, was buried the day after. Jesus remained 
 two days in Peraea, and though only a single day 
 was needed to traverse the distance from thence to 
 Bethany, between twenty-three and twenty-nine miles, 
 we can hardly suppose that He made the whole 
 journey in one day; for in that case he would have 
 arrived on the evening of the fourth day, and would 
 consequently have had no time to do those things 
 which He is said to have done immediately after His 
 arrival. We are shut up, therefore, to the conclusion 
 that He must have stayed over the night somewhere 
 on the road, and arrived early on the fifth day. This 
 
200 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 computation will remove all difficulties, and verify the 
 fact that Lazarus, from the time of His burial until 
 Christ appeared on the scene, was four days in the 
 grave. 
 
 Owing to the nearness of Bethany to Jerusalem, 
 many of the friends of the family came from thence to 
 condole with the sisters in their sore bereavement. 
 These friends from Jerusalem are significantly called by 
 the Evangelist "Jews;" a peculiar term which he uses 
 to denote the leaders of the opposition to the teaching 
 of Christ, as equivalent to scribes, elders, and Pharisees. 
 The connection of the family of Bethany with that 
 class is another coincidence between the young ruler 
 and Lazarus \ whilst the large number and high social 
 position of the sympathising visitors are such as 
 we should have expected, on the supposition that 
 Lazarus and the young ruler were one and the same. 
 Besides the friends from Jerusalem, the peculiar con- 
 struction of the sentence in the original would lead us 
 to infer that there were also present in the darkened 
 dwelling mourners from Bethany itself — the well-known 
 neighbours and familiar associates of the sisters. Ac- 
 cording to the Jewish ceremonial of grief, thirty days 
 w r ere usually set apart for the lamentation of the dead, 
 which was conducted in an ostentatious and tumultu- 
 ous manner. Each day had its own peculiar cere- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 201 
 
 mony prescribed to it. During the first seven days 
 the friends and acquaintances of the deceased came 
 to visit his surviving relations ; and as such visits were 
 reckoned among the Jews as " acts of mercy, "' and 
 were deemed very meritorious, none omitted this mark 
 of attention who had the slightest acquaintance with 
 the departed or with his family. Such a ritual must 
 have often proved a weary and burdensome form to 
 those who truly mourned their dead. The presence 
 of so many who were mere acquaintances, and of 
 others who were only pretended friends, and came 
 only because the duty was inculcated by a religious 
 law, must have been very irksome on such a trying 
 occasion, when the heart longs for solitude, and, like 
 the deer, which seeks when wounded the profoundest 
 depths of the forest, would avoid the crowd, and seek 
 refuge in lonely brooding over the grievous hurt. But, 
 though often formal, the sympathy of those who came 
 to condole with Martha and Mary on this occasion 
 seems to have been genuine. They fain would have 
 comforted the sorrowing sisters, but they could not. 
 Their presence on the scene, however, served another 
 and even higher purpose. They were collected to- 
 gether in the providence of God that they might 
 witness the mighty miracle which was about to be 
 wrought. The other miracles of raising the dead 
 
202 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 took place in Galilee, among a rude and simple- 
 hearted people, who clung to the literal beliefs of 
 their fathers, whose religion lay in action and their 
 faith in obedience. But the raising of Lazarus was 
 accomplished in the neighbourhood of the Sacred 
 City, in the midst of spectators of an entirely different 
 order — students of the law, teachers and leaders of 
 Israel, who had been brought into contact with Greek 
 intellect and Roman thought, who were trained up in 
 all Jewish subtleties, and who were keen critics of 
 evidence. It was therefore wisely ordained that the 
 greatest of the wondrous works of Jesus should have ' 
 for its witnesses the representatives of the highest 
 learning and social position in the country. 
 
 Jesus did not come directly to the home under 
 whose hospitable roof He had spent so many pleasant 
 days and nights. He knew that it was filled with 
 those who were His enemies and w T ho had been the 
 cause of His banishment, and that therefore there 
 was no room or welcome for Him among them. He 
 would not expose Himself on such a solemn occasion 
 to their unseemly hostility, or mar the sacredness of 
 the house of mourning by being the occasion of bring- 
 ing into it the rancorousness of human hatred. Not 
 in such an uncongenial company would He wish to 
 meet for the first time the sorrowing sisters after their 
 
in.] LAZARl 203 
 
 bereavement, and speak to them those words of tender 
 sympathy and love which would be profaned if heard 
 by other ears. Such an interview must take place 
 where there would be nothing to disturb it ; amid the 
 calm, solemn quietude of nature, with the deep blue 
 sky above, and around those bright and lowly things 
 in the enjoyment of which, seeing that they are the 
 heart-work as well as the mind-work of God, there is 
 balm and repose for the sorrowful, and sweetest com- 
 munion of the creating and the created heart. Have 
 we not all felt as Jesus did on this occasion? Does 
 He not interpret to us in this human experience a 
 craving of our own heart? There are places where 
 we cannot bear to meet with those whom we love, 
 the first time after some grievous trial has befallen 
 us ; and times in which we cannot speak to them of 
 that which oppresses us amid the ordinary surround- 
 ings of our life. We must find some congenial spot 
 more in harmony with the state of our spirits, some 
 occasion in which the trivialities and hard circum- 
 stances of daily life cannot distract the solemn en- 
 gagedness of our heart with its sorrow. Who would 
 like to bid farewell to a beloved friend, going away 
 perhaps for ever to a foreign country, at the door of 
 an inn, or beside the crowded gangway of a ship? 
 Who would like to meet a dear brother or sister 
 
204 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 coming home after long years of absence on the 
 public street, or amid a company of comparative 
 strangers? The heart instinctively seeks on such 
 tender and trying -occasions some quiet resting-place, 
 where it may be free from all prying eyes and curious 
 ears, and pour out unrestrainedly its wealth of love or 
 its burden of sorrow. Outside the village, therefore, 
 beneath the shadows of the palm trees that formed 
 a belt of verdure around it, not far from the spot 
 where Lazarus was buried — for when Mary came out 
 to meet Him the Jews thought she had gone in the 
 direction of the grave to weep there — His affections, 
 as it were, oscillating half-way between the home of 
 the living friends and the last home of the dead 
 friend. Quietly as He had come, desirous as He 
 was of avoiding all observation, His presence soon 
 became known. Tidings of the arrival of Him for 
 whom she had so long and anxiously waited in vain 
 were brought to Martha. Perhaps she may have 
 been occupied out of doors, in conformity with her 
 active temperament, seeking to relieve by the per- 
 formance of some necessary duty the depression of 
 her spirits \ and in this way she was the first to hear 
 of the coming of Jesus; while Mary, in her deeper 
 and stiller sorrow, may have retired to the seclusion 
 of her own room,, and thus put herself out of reach 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 205 
 
 of hearing the rumour. At all events this much is 
 evident, that while the one sister knew of the arrival 
 of Jesus, the other sister w T as ignorant of it. We 
 cannot for a moment suppose that Mary would have 
 remained in the house had she known that her be- 
 loved Lord was so near at hand. She would have 
 hastened out with the swift impulse of love to meet 
 Him; and as John outran Peter on the way to the 
 sepulchre, so Mary would have outrun Martha on the 
 way to the place where Jesus was. Love would out- 
 strip zeal, and be the first to pour out its wounded 
 wail at the feet of the beloved. And in this circum- 
 stance, too, we see the different characteristics of the 
 two sisters. The well-known and opposite peculiar- 
 ities of their nature are stamped upon the narrative 
 with the seal of truth. Martha appears the more 
 promptly active, and through her active habits she 
 heard of the approach of Jesus. Mary appears quiet 
 and retiring, and through that shrinking, retiring habit 
 no rumour of Jesus' coming had reached her. We can 
 imagine that the grief of the two sisters was manifested 
 in modes corresponding to their different temperaments. 
 Sorrow in the case of Martha would be pushed aside 
 by her bustling energetic temperament ; while in the 
 case of Mary it would press heavily upon her heart, 
 because she could not divert it into any outward 
 
2o6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 channel. The sorrow of Martha would be like a 
 fresh-lit watch-fire sending up great clouds of smoke, 
 making its presence to be seen afar off; but the sorrow 
 of Mary would be like that watch-fire when the flames 
 have assumed their full force — showing least when 
 burning most, and glowing with intensest heat when, 
 owing to the absence of all smoke, the distant watchers 
 fancy that it is extinguished. 
 
 Very characteristic is the conduct of Martha when 
 she went to meet Jesus. She begins immediately to 
 converse with Him. No mention is made of any pre- 
 liminary greeting, any words of welcome or sorrow. 
 At once she proceeds to utter the thought with which 
 her heart is burdened, to express her regret that He 
 had not come sooner to prevent this sad calamity. 
 The very same spirit of complaint, when she was 
 indignant that her Lord and her sister cared, so little 
 for what she cared so much, finds utterance. She is 
 still the old Martha, if not cumbered with much serving 
 now, at least careful and troubled about many things, 
 losing in fretfulness and worry the calm central repose 
 of her spirit, and still needing the reproof, " One thing 
 is needful." But we cannot fail to observe that the 
 discipline of sorrow is doing her good ; we see a little 
 melting and toning down of her anxious disposition, 
 a little calming of her activity and self-dependence 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 207 
 
 into trustfulness, a little elevation of her hard practi- 
 cality, busy only about the necessities of the lower life, 
 into the spiritual insight of a soul that is able to 
 look earnestly at the things that are unseen and 
 eternal in the heavens. She no longer allowed her- 
 self to be entirely engrossed with her domestic duties, 
 for no sooner did she become aware of the Saviour's 
 approach than she turned away from them to the 
 higher interests that now demanded her attention ; 
 feeling that in the presence of Jesus she would get 
 the one thing that was more needful and helpful than 
 all her own activities. She left behind all her com- 
 pany of friends and guests, with whom it would have 
 formerly delighted her to talk, and whom she would 
 have rejoiced to serve with her best. Miserable 
 comforters were these rulers and Pharisees, who had 
 come with their stock of formal common-place con- 
 solations learned by rote. She leaves them, and seeks 
 the presence of One who is greater and holier than 
 them all. And though her first words to Jesus show 
 the old spirit of querulousness and fault-finding, we 
 discern in them, at the same time, a fuller recognition 
 of His wisdom and power. The conviction that 
 His presence would have prevented the death of 
 her brother was in itself no little evidence of a higher 
 faith than she possessed before. " Lord, if thou hadst 
 
208 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 been here, my brother had not died." She thought 
 that had Jesus been able to come immediately when 
 He was summoned, when her brother was still alive, 
 He could have offered, by the side of his fever- 
 stricken couch, such an effectual fervent prayer as 
 would have not only prevented death, but restored 
 him to health and vigour; and they might at this 
 moment have been rejoicing over a living, instead of 
 mourning a dead brother. But the opportunity had 
 passed away; Jesus was too late to do any good ; the 
 beloved life had fled, the grave had claimed and 
 closed over its own ; and nothing now remained but 
 idle tears and unavailing regrets. Alas ! the experi- 
 ence to which Martha here gives expression is not 
 singular. Whose faith has not been tried by a thought 
 like hers? Who has not made similar reflections 
 upon the conduct of earthly friends, or the course 
 of events, or the treatment of the physician? If such 
 a person had come at the critical moment; if only 
 another measure had been adopted, and this treat- 
 ment avoided; if something else had been done in- 
 stead of what has been done, then the result might 
 have been different, and the beloved life would not 
 have been sacrificed. Nay ! do we not arraign Provi- 
 dence itself in the anguish of our regret? Had the 
 hand of Omnipotence but interfered, though only for 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 
 
 209 
 
 a moment; had but the faintest whisper of the Divine 
 voice bidding the fever be still and death depart, the 
 bereavements which have shadowed all our pilgrimage 
 might have been averted. It is ever the bitterest 
 drop in the cup of human anguish that it might have 
 been otherwise. Of all sad words of tongue or pen. 
 the saddest are those, "It might have been." If Thou 
 hadst been here, oh ! God of Mercy ! my brother, my 
 wife, my child, would not have died. It is indeed 
 the hardest trial of faith to feel and know that it is 
 just because God has been here that our beloved 
 one has died; that this death which darkens all our 
 home and all our life is but the overshadowing of His 
 wings of love ; that His hand has been still and His 
 voice silent in truest kindness alike to the dead and 
 the living; that it is owing to the presence and not 
 to the absence of the Sun of Righteousness that — 
 
 11 There coraeth a mist and a weeping rain, 
 And life is never the same again." 
 
 But there is a hope at the bottom of Martha's 
 hopelessness. Too late it may seem ; all human help 
 may appear to be vain ; but there is something within 
 her which bids her still trust in God. Faint and far- 
 off is the thought that comes to her sorrowful soul, 
 like a ray from another world, but she cannot but 
 
210 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 allude to it. " But I know that even now, whatsoever 
 thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee." We see 
 the sear and peeled Aaron's rod, as it were, of her 
 faith, visited in the darkness and loneliness of her 
 bereavement with a sudden thrill of spring-time from 
 on high, putting forth in the presence of the True 
 Light a wreath of snowy blossoms, and exhaling 
 to Him its beauty and fragrance. The process of 
 budding and blossoming in that darkness, through 
 which rays the pale glory of the Shechinah cloud, goes 
 on before our very eyes. It may be that Martha, like 
 Peter on the Transfiguration mount, wist not what 
 she said when she uttered these words — that there 
 was some confusion of mind and heart, caused by her 
 sorrow and the glory of Jesus overpowering her. It 
 may be that she had not shaped her hope out of the 
 formless mist of possibilities, or dared to give it any 
 definite colour of life. It may be that her expectations 
 did not rise so high as an actual restoration from death 
 for her brother; for, if so, she could hardly have said at 
 the door of the sepulchre, "Lord, by this time he 
 stinketh." But still her faith, in the absence of en- 
 lightenment, clung to Jesus. She rested her hope 
 upon the power of His prayer, though she knew not 
 what that prayer might accomplish for her. A man 
 so holy and heavenly, so full of faith and good works, 
 
ill.] LAZARUS. 211 
 
 must command the ear of heaven; and God must 
 give to Him some signal token of His regard. 
 
 How high, and yet how poor, were her thoughts of 
 Jesus ! As a man, she had the highest conception of 
 Him ; she exalted Him to the utmost as one who had 
 more power with God than any one else. But as yet she 
 had not discovered His true glory as the Son of God. 
 who needed not to pray, but had all things committed 
 into His hands. The mist had not yet passed from 
 her eyes ; and, through the veil of His earthly lowli- 
 ness, she could not discern the light of His indwelling 
 glory. She thought of Him only as another Elijah 
 or Elisha, who obtained by prayer from God what 
 He wished, but she did not know that He Himself 
 was one with God ; and the word she used for " ask,"' 
 a word which in the original Jesus Himself never 
 employed to express His own asking of the Father, 
 indicated that she had as yet no conception of His 
 authority, as One in whom dwelt all the fulness of the 
 Godhead bodily. Still, in spite of dimness of appre- 
 hension and unworthy conceptions, she clung to Him 
 whom she felt was in some unexplainable way mighty 
 to save. Xor was her faith, perhaps, entirely unsup- 
 ported by evidence; she probably knew that Jairus' 
 daughter and the son of the widow of Xain had been 
 raised by Christ from the dead. And, although their 
 
212 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 case was different from that of her brother, in the 
 circumstance that her brother's body, she could not 
 doubt, had already begun to see corruption, yet the 
 words reported by the messenger, "This sickness 
 is not unto death," created an impression that, since 
 Lazarus had died, they must be susceptible of a 
 further and grander meaning than she had first 
 attached to them. Martha knew that whatever Jesus 
 asked of God, God would give it to Him. We have a 
 higher ground of confidence still. He who prayed for 
 others had to pray for Himself, when overmastered by 
 a struggle beyond endurance and overwhelmed with 
 a horror of great darkness. We read that in Geth- 
 semane, "being in an agony, He prayed." The re- 
 membrance of that prayer will never fade from the 
 Redeemer's mind. In our Gethsemane, no angel 
 merely, but Jesus Himself will come to help us, if, 
 being in an agony we pray. He may not remove 
 the pain or the misery under which we are suffering ; 
 even for Christ these were not removed; but peace 
 and strength and hope will come, and we shall be able 
 to bear anything that God sends, and to see shining 
 on the blackest cloud of anguish, that seems to shroud 
 His face from us, the rainbow of His mercy. Jesus 
 has said that if we ask anything in His name, He 
 will do it for us. Whatever is for our true good will 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 213 
 
 be given to us for His sake. Our prayers will not be 
 like the prayers alluded to by a celebrated Greek poet, 
 which were scattered by the winds before they reached 
 the portals of heaven. They will be so answered that 
 "the solemn silence of our Gethsemanes will be broken 
 by the music of tender promises, and its awful darkness 
 lightened by the sunshine of heavenly faces." 
 
 Jesus saith unto her, "Thy brother shall rise again." 
 This declaration is indeterminate. Jesus doubtless 
 meant by it to assure Martha that the deep, though 
 unuttered, longing of her heart would be granted. 
 But, like the famous oracular responses of old, it 
 might be understood in a two-fold sense ; and, in this 
 way, it was a test of her faith ; it was thrown out in 
 this form to show how far she could interpret and 
 realize its meaning. It embraced the near and the 
 distant resurrection ; and, had her faith been perfect, 
 it would have spanned them both : it would have 
 grasped all the present and prospective significance of 
 the response. But Martha's faith could only attain 
 the hope that was afar off. But that hope was not 
 made faint and nebulous in her mind because of its 
 remoteness. Clear-cut and distinct as a mountain 
 ridge on the horizon, that great article of her creed 
 stood up on the background of her faith. With un- 
 hesitating confidence she says, " I know that my 
 
214 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 brother shall rise again at the resurrection at the last 
 day." It was much that she could say that, if we con- 
 sider the current beliefs of the time. Very dimly and 
 scantily did the Old Testament refer to the doctrine 
 of the resurrection ; so dimly and scantily that one of 
 the great sects of her nation accepted the five books 
 of Moses only on the avowed ground of their contain- 
 ing, as they imagined, no allusion to it ; and even our 
 Saviour Himself, in answer to their cavils, could only 
 draw the doctrine from one passage in the Pentateuch, 
 and even that by imputation. It had no mention in 
 Jewish law, or symbol in Jewish worship. It was 
 never recognised as a fundamental article of faith, or 
 appealed to as any motive to exertion, or upheld as 
 any comfort in trouble. Nowhere in the writings or 
 sayings of all the saints and godly men of old have we 
 so clear, full, and explicit a declaration of the truth of 
 the resurrection as we find in the words of Martha. 
 It was the belief of the Pharisees, in which she was 
 educated ; but no Pharisee had ever given it so un- 
 equivocal an expression. It rises up through all the 
 clouds of doubt and unbelief peculiar to her age and 
 nation as the culminating point of Jewish faith, and 
 therefore fit to receive that illumination from heaven, 
 which He alone could give who brought life and im- 
 mortality to light in the Gospel. 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 21 = 
 
 -this truth of the resurrec- 
 
 tion, which is the new fact upon which Christianity 
 rests its claims — which Christianity asserts to be itself 
 a Gospel. For upwards of six thousand years there 
 has gone on uninterruptedly a wholesale destruction 
 of .the human race. Countless millions have gone 
 down age after age into indistinguishable dust, to be 
 blown about by desert winds, or washed away by 
 ocean waters, or sealed amid the eternal hills, or to 
 form the mould from which we reap our daily bread, 
 until this fair world which God has blessed has become 
 one huge sepulchre in a garden. And yet we are told 
 by our religion that, one day, over this vast valley of 
 dry bones the Spirit of God will breathe from the four 
 winds of heaven, and bone shall be knit to its fellow- 
 bone, and the sinews and the flesh shall come upon 
 them, and, bursting the long bondage of the grave, 
 they shall all rise up an exceeding great army of 
 living souls. Our religion tells us that, universal as 
 is the reign of death, equally universal shall be the 
 triumph over it; that as surely as every living man 
 must die, so surely must every dead man live again. 
 Death may hold him long, and bury him deep in 
 the bowels of the earth or sea, but the handful of 
 dust shall be found again, and at the voice of the 
 Son of Man it must live. It is a most wonderful and 
 
2i6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 difficult conception. The doctrine of the resurrection 
 is not one that is discoverable by reason. Men have 
 been accustomed, in the cycle of the natural seasons, 
 when the earth in spring starts up from its long winter 
 sleep, to see a symbol and a never-failing prophecy of 
 life rising out of death, and to regard the Easter of 
 nature in its outbursting of bud and blossom, and 
 springing up of fresh growth from apparently dead 
 seeds and bulbs, as giving a pledge or an intimation 
 of a higher Easter in store for man. And philosophers 
 have pointed to the transformations of the insect 
 passing from the condition of a grub, through the 
 motionless repose of the chrysalis, to the free and 
 brilliantly-winged condition of the butterfly, as the 
 type of a nobler human transformation. But these 
 so-called analogies afford no evidence of the truth of 
 man's resurrection. There is, in reality, no true corre- 
 spondence between them. The fair blossom from 
 the seed ; the winged insect from the chrysalis ; these 
 common familiar illustrations are examples of rejuven- 
 escence, and not of resurrection. These living things 
 do not spring from previous dead and decomposed 
 forms, but are simply the outcome of a latent life that 
 has never for one moment been interrupted; and 
 before we can use such analogies as arguments in 
 favour of the resurrection, we must be shown some 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 217 
 
 germ of vegetable or animal life, ground into dust and 
 scattered by the winds and entering into the composi- 
 tion of other bodies, whose materials have nevertheless 
 been gathered together anew, and its old life restored 
 unimpaired. But of such a process in nature there has 
 never been a single instance. There has never been 
 in all the physical world a single example of life raised 
 from actual death ; all its revivifying processes attach 
 to things which are alive and representative of life. 
 The doctrine of the resurrection of man is absolutely 
 unique; it is a pure doctrine of revelation. But, al- 
 though we cannot discover any evidence of it in nature, 
 or prove it by any analogy that we can find out, still, 
 when the Bible tells us that such is God's great purpose 
 in regard to our race, we must accept it in faith as only 
 another marvel amid the great universe of marvels that 
 surround us — as a truth in beautiful accordance with all 
 the natural instincts and longings of our own souls. It 
 augured, therefore, no small amount of faith in Martha, 
 that, before the great fact of Christ's own resurrection, 
 which has made the doctrine clearer and more credible 
 to us, had taken place, she should have said, " I know 
 that my brother shall rise again at the resurrection at 
 the last day." 
 
 But, with this expression of unhesitating faith in 
 the general resurrection, there mingles a feeling of 
 
 
218 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 particular disappointment. She looked upon Christ's 
 assertion that her brother would rise again as a re- 
 pression of her ardent hopes, an extinguishing of any 
 lingering expectation that Jesus might do some mighty- 
 work here and now for her brother. Such a post- 
 ponement to the far-off ages of the future of her 
 brother's restoration caused her heart to sink within 
 her. Is this all that Jesus can do for her? Is this 
 all the comfort that He can administer in her great 
 sorrow ? The Pharisees have said as much to her in 
 their formal attempts at consolation ; her own heart 
 has whispered to her the same truth. But it is a 
 saddening rather than an inspiring thought, that she 
 must wait till the last day before she can clasp again a 
 living brother. That hope is too distant to help her 
 now ; to fill the blank in her desolate home and her 
 aching heart. To God a thousand years of that long 
 interval might be as one day; but to her, who filled 
 all futurity with the sadness of the present moment, 
 one day of her present consuming grief was as a 
 thousand years. We can discern a slight movement of 
 impatience in Martha's reply to the words of Christ, 
 as if she had said — I know all that well ; it is a 
 commonplace from which all glow has departed, and 
 which has no power to soothe my sorrow ; it does not 
 even touch the present longings of my heart. I be- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 219 
 
 lieve that one day there will be no more death \ but 
 here and now death seems to be master in the house 
 of life. I want my brother here and now ; my heart 
 strains like to break now for the longing that it hath 
 to see again his smiling face and hear again the music 
 of his tender voice. 
 
 We, too, with Martha, talk and think of a resur- 
 rection at the last day, when our beloved ones are 
 taken away from us \ and we feel that there is but 
 cold comfort to our yearning hearts in the thought of 
 the last day — that far-off bound and limit of all human 
 liberty and endurance. It seems to remove to an almost 
 infinite distance the reunion for which we crave — to 
 make as dim as a star, that trembles out of sight on 
 the verge of space, the old familiar fellowship of a com- 
 plete and fruitful life with our loved and lost ones : — 
 
 ' ' We catch up wild at parting saints, 
 And feel Thy heaven too distant." 
 
 We try, indeed, to comfort ourselves, and to fill 
 up the vast void between us and that " divine far-off 
 event," by thoughts of the perfect blessedness of 
 those who sleep in Jesus. But the intermediate state 
 has no vital glow about it ; we regard it as only a pro- 
 visional expectant state. " Not that we may be un- 
 clothed, but clothed upon," said the apostle. We have 
 
220 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 haunting visions of disembodied spirits cut off from 
 the activities of the spirit world ; and this feeling of 
 the imperfection of their life till some far future day 
 saddens our hearts, as we leave behind in the grave all 
 that remains to us of their beloved presence. We know 
 that they shall rise again at the resurrection at the last 
 day; but that knowledge does us little present good: 
 
 " Ah, but who knows in what thin form and strange, 
 Through what appalled perplexities of change, 
 Wakes the sad soul, which, having once forgone 
 This earth familiar and her friends thereon, 
 In interstellar void becomes a chill 
 Outlying fragment of the Master Will ; 
 So severed, so forgetting, shall not she 
 Lament, immortal, immortality?" 
 
 But what did Christ say to this human despondency 
 and half-hearted faith ? What did He say to Martha's 
 mournful words about the far-off resurrection ? With 
 Divine grace and condescension, overlooking the im- 
 patience of her reply, He says to her, " I am the 
 resurrection and the life; he that believeth in Me, 
 though he were dead, yet shall he live ; and he that 
 liveth and believeth in Me shall never die." He 
 directs the glance of her faith upon His own person 
 as its centre. In Himself exist the powers which she 
 attributed only to another, and for which she supposed 
 that He would have to ask God in prayer. In Him- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 22 1 
 
 self, here and now, lie those triumphs over death and 
 the grave which she relegated to the distant future — 
 to the end of the world. In Himself are included the 
 first and the last, things present and things future, the 
 resurrection of the dead and the life of the living. He 
 is the living link between the living and the dead. 
 The dead are asleep in Him ; the living have their 
 true life hid in faith with Him \ they are both rooted 
 together in Him in the element of imperishableness. 
 It is not a fact of the future, which faith may antici- v 
 pate,, to which Uhnst refers: but an accomplished 
 fact — which is the priceless treasure — the unspeakable 
 joy of believing lives now, and which the future will 
 only complete. Jesus is as really, if not as richly. 
 now and here, the Resurrection and the Life, as He 
 will be in the heavenly world. Had the boon for 
 which she craved been given to her — had Lazarus 
 been restored from death to her arms — there would 
 still have remained the constant distressing appre- 
 hension that he would soon be snatched from her again 
 by the same foe. To be raised once to this world 
 would be to die twice. And, therefore, as Olshausen 
 beautifully says, He wishes to purify her longing from 
 what was earthly and personal in it ; to direct her 
 thoughts from the departed brother to the present Sa- 
 viour — the Saviour both for Lazarus and herself; and 
 
222 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD, [chap. 
 
 ; 
 
 
 to show to her that in Him alone she should obtain the 
 perfect remedy against death, and find her brother in 
 \such a way that she should never more lose him. 
 
 The words which Christ uttered were solemn and 
 awful words — the most awful and significant that were 
 ever spoken by human lips. They proclaimed to the 
 world the truth for which, for four thousand years, 
 it had waited. They translated into a glorious reality 
 the dreams and visions of those wise and gifted men, 
 who with " open eyes" caught, while all was darkness 
 around them, the faint dawn of that dayspring which 
 was rising to irradiate the world. They stamp all 
 human experience in this fleeting and changing world 
 with immortality, and reveal a Divine endurance, in 
 which our perishableness is centred, behind all the 
 suffering and death which God sends for the discipline 
 of mankind. They have been adopted as the most su- 
 blime and cheering words in the burial service of every 
 Christian creed and people ; and they have comforted 
 millions of bereaved hearts since they were uttered, as 
 they will comfort millions more to the end of the 
 world. Christ's words are large as the nature of Him 
 who uttered them, and as the eternity which they 
 imply. They contain no private blessing for a com- 
 pany of select expectants, but a public blessing to the 
 broad human world. Jesus did not say to Martha 
 
in.] LAZARl 223 
 
 that He was going to make an exception of her case, 
 and to do for her, on account of personal friendship, 
 what He would do for no one else ; for He came not 
 into the world to show special favours, but to assert 
 and manifest universal truth. He uttered a grand, 
 wide, universal statement, not bounded to a certain 
 moment in the future, but extending over the present 
 and past; not confined to Lazarus, but embracing 
 herself, and sister, and all the human family as well. 
 He carried up the sublime declaration of His absolute 
 existence made to Moses at the burning bush — " I 
 am that I am" — into this even sublimer revelation 
 made to Martha near the tomb of her brother, of His 
 existence relative to us as the conqueror of the grave, 
 and the Lord of Life triumphant over all death — " I 
 am the resurrection and the life." And thus meeting 
 all human necessities, embracing all human beings — 
 not merely affecting the person then lying in the 
 grave — they met Martha's sorrow more effectually than 
 if they had been spoken directly as a special blessing 
 to herself. Into their profound depths all the ages 
 since have looked down without seeing the bottom. 
 We catch but a fleeting glimpse of their meaning ; 
 we apprehend, even with all the light which Christ's 
 own resurrection shecjs upon them, but the surface 
 explanation of them. And, therefore, we cannot 
 
224 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 wonder that when Jesus said to Martha, " Believest 
 thou this ? " she should have turned from the truth to 
 the speaker, and said, " Yea, Lord, I believe that 
 thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should 
 come into the world " — a reply that seems irrelevant, 
 and yet is the most complete and satisfactory she 
 could have made. She did not understand the full 
 meaning of what He said, but she believed in Him- 
 self. Oppressed with the mystery or dazzled with the 
 glory which His word had revealed, she cast herself, 
 as it were, upon His own bosom, and there found the 
 perfect peace and comfort which His words could but 
 dimly impart. She rose from the cold lifeless formula 
 of the Pharisees' creed about the resurrection, to the 
 confession of Christ Himself as the resurrection and 
 the life, which no flesh and blood, no human traditions 
 could have revealed to her. And surely it was an im- 
 mense step upwards from vain fruitless regrets to this 
 calm faith, that, as her Saviour was living, her brother 
 was living still, because he had believed in Him. 
 
 And for us, too, the simple personal faith of Martha 
 is enough. The doctrine of the resurrection, like the 
 doctrine of the atonement, may be too high and 
 mysterious for us. We may but very dimly and im- 
 perfectly comprehend the wondrous force and range 
 of the truths of salvation ; they are in every case 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 225 
 
 limited by our capacities, and bounded by our experi- 
 ence or our preconceived notions or belief; but, what 
 is darkness to the intellect may be sunshine to the 
 heart; and if we believe in Jesus Himself, it is easy to 
 believe in all that He has declared for our hope and 
 well-being in this world and the next. There is 
 nothing which we cannot believe concerning Him, 
 since we believe Him to be the Divine Saviour, in 
 whom every great and gracious gift for this sin-ruined 
 and death-haunted life is centred. Believing in 
 His own death and resurrection, which have broken 
 down the middle wall of partition between this world 
 and the next, we believe in that which makes death 
 to be not death, but a process of life and renovation — 
 the transition from earth to heaven. And, while we 
 see around us this joyful Easter Sabbath * the beauti- 
 ful signs of the quickened life of the earth, we in- 
 stinctively feel that these outer tokens of revival and 
 renovation point to deeper realities in the life of man ; 
 and we hail, in this spring gladness, the prophecy of 
 a brighter spring that shall dawn upon the winter dark- 
 ness of the grave, and make all the old things of the 
 curse new. The natural death may still be left to 
 inflict its miseries and spread its ravages. No more 
 will Christ work a miracle of resurrection for the 
 
 * Preached on the first Sabbath of April. 
 P 
 
226 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 broken-hearted, to prove the reality of His words, as 
 He once did for Martha and Mary. No more will 
 women receive their dead raised to life again. The 
 chariot of fire comes never more to lift any one from 
 the .slow pain of dying. But, if we believe in Jesus 
 Himself, we shall share in the vision of Him in whom 
 we believe; our nature will stretch to the grandeur 
 of His ; and we can see in His own light the pro- 
 found and blessed truth that death is the only thing 
 in death that dies ; that the continuity of the life that 
 is lived in Christ is never suspended, but is borne 
 through the momentary darkness of death into the 
 sphere of a vivid and fruitful human experience, where 
 all is perfect forevermore. Want of faith in God as 
 revealed in Jesus Christ, is the only death. " He 
 that liveth and believeth in me, shall never die." 
 
 Very profound was the impression which Martha's 
 interview with Jesus had produced upon her. It was 
 not so much what He said, as the way in which He 
 said it, that reached the deep hidden springs of her 
 heart. His manner more than His words comforted 
 and strengthened her. His words she imperfectly 
 understood, but there was about His person such a 
 sublime calmness of power, that she grew quiet and 
 trustful in His presence, as ocean billows subside into 
 tranquillity under the lee of a great rock. She did 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 
 
 not comprehend the full measure of the great truth 
 to which He had given expression, but it was sufficient 
 to awaken in her a feeling of comfort and hope, as 
 the warm brooding of the spring sky, whose profound 
 depths we cannot fathom, calls out into beautiful glad- 
 ness the dormant life of the earth. In the natural 
 world images of objects placed in contact with them 
 are produced on polished surfaces in the dark, closely 
 resembling those produced by the direct action of 
 light. In like manner, through the very darkness of 
 the high mysterious words of Christ, a distinct image 
 of Him as the Son of God, the promised Messiah, was 
 produced upon her heart, which sorrow had made un- 
 usually sensitive, and communion with Christ unusually 
 receptive of heavenly impressions. 
 
 She asks no more questions. The climax of her 
 faith has been reached. She has discerned in the 
 familiar guest of other days, not merely as she had 
 imagined, a great prophet risen amid the profound 
 silence which had fallen for centuries over the spiritual 
 life of her country, but the very Son of God Himself. 
 And the faith that led to that sublime discover}' was 
 perfected by the confession of it. And here comes out 
 one of the peculiarities of the Gospel of St. John. The 
 idea of human witness, of human testimony to Christ, 
 pervades it throughout. The Evangelist delights to 
 
22 8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 record the cries of confession wrung from the hearts of 
 men, and to exhibit the growth of belief in individuals 
 least susceptible to enthusiasm. It is very remarkable 
 how, by a Divine artifice as it were, the highest testi- 
 mony to the glory of God in the Incarnation is made 
 to come from persons from whom we should not have 
 expected to receive it. It is the impulsive, head- 
 strong Peter who says, "We believe that thou art 
 the Christ, the Son of the living God." It is the 
 practical, matter-of-fact Martha who confesses, "I 
 believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, 
 who should come into the world." It is to the 
 sensual, free-living Samaritan woman that Christ re- 
 veals Himself as the Messiah, and from whom comes 
 the admission to her neighbours, "Is not this the 
 Christ?" It is the unscrupulous Pilate who owns, 
 " I find no fault in him ; " and from the melancholy, 
 doubting Thomas comes the highest testimony of 
 human faith and love, "My Lord and my God." 
 Wonderful music, drawn from the heart of man by 
 "the hand of faith running up the scales," from its 
 faintest and lowest notes, sounded during the stolen 
 interview of Nicodemus at night, "We know that 
 thou art a teacher come from God," to its grandest 
 and richest harmony, "My Lord and my God," in 
 which the Gospel of St. John culminates ; the be- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 229 
 
 ginning and the ending of it meeting in the acknow- 
 ledgment of Christ's Divine glory as the Redeemer 
 of the world. 
 
 After the expression of her faith and love, Martha 
 hastens to seek her sister, to make her a partaker of 
 her new-found joy. She does so secretly, remem- 
 bering, in her loving anxiety, the peril which had 
 recently threatened Christ in Jerusalem at the hands of 
 the very persons who were now assembled in her house. 
 The Lord summons Mary by her sister's lips. " The 
 Master is come, and calleth for thee," were the words 
 with which Martha greeted her sister in the retirement 
 of her home. It is not difficult to understand the 
 reason of this message. Jesus could have wrought 
 the miracle of restoration without the presence of 
 Man-, and upon the strength of Martha's confession 
 of faith. He could have given to her the bewildering 
 joy of the final result, but He wished her to be the 
 witness of all the stages of the wonderful process, that 
 thus her confidence in Himself might be strengthened 
 and her love ennobled. Her faith, indeed, was an 
 essential element in the performance of the miracle. 
 Being more simple and receptive than that of Martha, 
 it fulfilled more perfectly the condition required for 
 working a miracle. With her own presence on the 
 scene was also connected, as a link, the presence of 
 
2 -o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 others who were required as witnesses. The message 
 was secretly given, and immediately obeyed ; but, in 
 the providence of God, it was not unobserved. The 
 Jews saw her hasty departure from the house; they 
 marked the direction in which she went; and they 
 came to the conclusion that she had gone to the grave 
 to weep there. Martha's disappearance seems to have 
 excited no remark from those who had come to con- 
 dole with the sisters. They probably fancied that, in 
 accordance with her active habits, she had gone out 
 to perform some of her domestic duties. But, when 
 the still and thoughtful Mary rose up to go out, they 
 felt constrained to follow her, lest the sight of her 
 brother's grave should prove overpowering to her; 
 and, on this errand of compassion, they became un- 
 intentional witnesses of all the circumstances of the 
 glorious miracle, and some of them, perhaps, wilful 
 actors- in the dark tragedy to which it immediately 
 led. The movements of all the parties concerned 
 were free and natural, and seemed to have no more 
 of deep design in them than the shape of the tangled 
 knots of sea-weed flung by the spring-tide upon the 
 beach ; and yet they were all overruled by Divine 
 wisdom for the accomplishment of His great and 
 gracious purposes. 
 
 During the first days of mourning for the dead, it 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 231 
 
 has always been the custom among Oriental nations 
 to repair frequently to the graves of their loved ones. 
 The Jewish women especially were zealous in the per- 
 formance of this sacred and affecting duty. They 
 realized their loss more vividly beside the last resting- 
 place of their friends ; they could there give fuller and 
 more unrestrained vent to their grief. A veiled figure 
 bent down with sorrow, and uttering low sobs which 
 shake all her frame, is a common sight at the present 
 day in an eastern place of interment. It is also a fre- 
 quent spectacle in our own church-yards. The custom 
 is indeed universal ; it springs from a touch of nature 
 that makes the whole world kin. Every one loves to 
 visit the grave of a departed friend. We feel nearer 
 those whom we have lost in such a place than any- 
 where else. Their last relics are beneath our feet; 
 the green grass and the bright flowers and shrubs that 
 grow over or beside the grave, draw down the sun- 
 shine and the dew of heaven to their dark resting- 
 place, and link them with the light and beauty of the 
 living world ; and we feel as if in the air around were 
 diffused a mystic sense of their presence. The grave 
 of our beloved seems the trysting-place between the 
 souls of the living and the spirits of the just made 
 perfect ; the boundary line between the seen and the 
 unseen world. To that mountain summit of a new 
 
23 2 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 world, which rises on the farthest horizon of this, 
 come our cherished visitants from the celestial world 
 to talk with us of their decease, and to show to us 
 their transfiguration of blessedness ; and, in the dark 
 cloud of sorrow that shuts us in with them, we be- 
 come sharers in their glorious change. So long as we 
 have the last home of our dear ones near us, we feel 
 that all the links that bind our familiar life with theirs 
 are not broken. It adds much to the sorrow of death 
 when we know not where our dead are laid ; and 
 hence our anxiety to recover the bodies of those who 
 have met their fate by some accident by sea or land. 
 The ocean is a mighty sepulchre, and each tumultuous 
 billow shapes a grave and sings a requiem over some 
 sleeper below. But there is no home for the affections 
 in the unresting deep. We cannot fix the place where 
 our friend reposes, or go there to weep and sadly 
 muse upon the days that are no more, and find sooth- 
 ing comfort in the very realization and outpouring of 
 our sorrow. It is on the calm bosom of our mother 
 earth that we love best to lie and take the last long 
 sleep, with the singing of the birds and the blossoming 
 of the flowers above us, and all around those sweet 
 symbols of the resurrection which cheer the darkness 
 of the grave, and inspire our hopes of eternal life. The 
 cemetery in the outskirts of the busy city, the church- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 233 
 
 yard around the lowly village church, the lonely God's- 
 acre among the hills, are places where the sweet breath 
 of heaven soothes our hearts, and glimpses come to us 
 from other skies. Blessed are we if, when we go there 
 to weep, the Lord of Life Himself meets us, as He 
 met Mary at the sepulchre, and speaks comfortably to 
 our souls ! Blessed are we if, when we go there to 
 behold the grave of another, we can contract our mind 
 to the small estate that awaits ourselves beside it, 
 and give our souls to nobler thoughts and cares than 
 those which usually possess us ; for in such a case we 
 shall feel the immortal fragrance that comes from the 
 grave where the Rose of Sharon reposed, and plant a 
 garden around the sepulchre, where everlasting flowers 
 shall smell sweet and blossom from the dust ! 
 
 Jesus had not moved from the place where He had 
 His interview with Martha. When Man*, on wings of 
 love, reached the spot, and saw the dear familiar form 
 and face, a thousand tender memories rushed upon 
 her heart \ the flood-gates of emotion were burst open ; 
 and, dissolved in a passion of tears, she fell down at 
 His feet, saying, " Lord, if thou hadst been here, 
 my brother had not died." How entirely char- 
 acteristic was her action and emotion ! How different 
 from the upright attitude and calm self-control which 
 Martha had exhibited in the presence of Jesus ! It is 
 
234 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 at the feet of the Master that we see her when she is 
 first introduced to us. There she loved to sit and 
 look up to that holy upturned face which reflected all 
 heaven, and listen to that tender voice which ex- 
 pressed all love; while her questioning heart was 
 enlarged with wide views of the fields of truth, and 
 the vague wistfulness of her soul found a centre of 
 repose in the sense of His goodness. His greatness 
 flowed around her incompleteness, and His rest around 
 her restlessness, as the horizon rounds the ruggedness 
 and brokenness of the earth, and the tumultuous 
 billows of the ocean, into perfect fulness and peace. 
 Jesus manifested Himself to the family of Bethany 
 in another way than He did unto the world. In 
 His dealings with them He appeared in a different 
 aspect from that which He assumed in His intercourse 
 with His disciples, or even with His own mother, and 
 brothers, and sisters. In their case His own saying 
 was fulfilled, " Whosoever shall do the will of God, the 
 same is My brother, and sister, and* mother." He 
 called them not servants, but friends. His love for 
 them raised them into a kind of equality with Himself. 
 With all others His intercourse was more or less 
 formal and official. He was the Master and Teacher 
 to His disciples ; and their relation to Him, while 
 based upon the warmest affection, was nevertheless 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 235 
 
 characterised by that profound respect which a superior 
 inspires in the heart of an inferior. From His own 
 family circle, unbelief on their part, and low carnal 
 ideas of His person and mission, divided Him, not- 
 withstanding that He fulfilled most perfectly all do- 
 mestic duties, and felt for His blood relations all 
 that the purest natural affection could require. In 
 general society He had ever to act the part of a 
 public man, or prophet — to measure, as it were, His 
 words, to guard Himself against misconstruction, to 
 speak and act for a purpose— and thus a degree of 
 restraint was put upon Him. But in the household of 
 Bethany we see Him in all the natural freedom and 
 abandonment, so to speak, of home-life. His whole 
 nature is unbent • the dazzling light of His super- 
 human power and holiness is veiled and softened by 
 the tenderness of His human love. Though still the 
 spiritual guide and teacher, He is yet more the 
 brother of Martha, and Mar}-, and Lazarus. To them 
 He exhales the inmost fragrance of His heart of 
 hearts ; and in their company we are more closely 
 drawn to Him than anywhere else as our own born 
 brother, even while the impression that He is holy, 
 harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners is 
 deepened and strengthened. Throughout the whole 
 beautiful chapter which records so fully and circum- 
 
236 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 stantially all the incidents and sayings connected with 
 the restoration of Lazarus, the impression of this 
 tender and endearing blood-relationship grows upon 
 us \ and it is doubtless in .order to produce that im- 
 pression — which is not conveyed to the same extent by 
 any other part of the Gospel history — that all these 
 •minute homely details are given by the Evangelist ; 
 and we bless God that it has pleased Him to reveal 
 to us, by the inspired writer, so fully this new and 
 most engaging aspect of Christ's character and life. 
 
 But still, notwithstanding the free and informal 
 human intercourse that existed between the household 
 of Bethany and Jesus, we see from Mary's conduct and 
 attitude, on all the occasions on which she is brought 
 before us, that a holy awe, a deep reverence mingled 
 with and chastened the love which she bore to Him. 
 Never did she lose for a moment the consciousness of 
 His immeasurable superiority. She called Him Lord, 
 and sat at His feet ; and, even while expressing her 
 regret at His long and unaccountable absence, no 
 words of upbraiding fell from her lips \ no unworthy 
 thought of His conduct passed through her mind ; 
 she felt that some higher reason than she could divine 
 had actuated Him ; and the very language that con- 
 veyed her innocent accusation acknowledged His 
 holy goodness and Divine power. And was it not 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 237 
 
 so also with the disciple who was most like Mary in 
 disposition — the disciple whom Jesus loved? He lay 
 on His bosom at the Holy Supper in the upper 
 chamber ; and yet years of familiarity did not abate 
 the deep reverential awe with which he regarded 
 Jesus. When He appeared to him in His risen glory 
 in the Isle of Patmos, he fell down at His feet like 
 one dead, and he needed to hear the old reassuring 
 words of earth, " Fear not," before his emotion 
 of awe could subside. And surely in this holy 
 reverence which His most intimate friends cherished 
 towards Him in hours of closest friendship and most 
 familiar intercourse, that would have discoloured any- 
 thing that was not heavenly and dwarfed anything 
 that was not Divine, we have the strongest and most 
 satisfactory of all proofs of Jesus' immaculate holiness. 
 One light word, one selfish action, one questionable 
 look, would have reduced Him to the level of other 
 men. With mortals like us, familiarity discovers 
 blemishes and leads to depreciation. No dignity will 
 assert itself long against a certain degree of close in- 
 timacy. But those who were most familiar with Jesus 
 cherished the loftiest ideas of His dignity; and she who 
 knew Him best, and whom, perhaps, after His mother, 
 He loved the most, felt that prone at His sacred feet 
 was the only attitude that she could assume. 
 
/ 
 
 I 
 
 238 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 Mary threw herself at the feet of Jesus in her hour 
 of sorrow; but she could not have done so with^such 
 confidence had she not sat at His feet in the hour of 
 joy. And how true it is that if we do not bask in the 
 sunshine of His face when all goes well with us, we 
 cannot put our trust under the shadow of His wings 
 when trial comes upon us ! No human being likes 
 another to come to him only when he requires help. 
 If a man's own brother recognised the relationship 
 only when some pecuniary embarrassment or some 
 sore trial requiring the help of another overtook him, 
 the tenderest and most considerate heart would be 
 repelled by such selfishness. And can we imagine 
 that He who gave us these instincts of our nature, is 
 so altogether different that He can bear to be treated 
 with neglect when we have all that heart can wish, 
 and approached with supplications and tears when we 
 are prostrated by trouble. Alas ! that this should be 
 so frequent — that religion should be so almost ex- 
 clusively associated with the darker and sadder experi- 
 ences of life — that the picture drawn by Him who 
 knew what was in man, in the parable of the supper, 
 should be so true to the life ! The individuals who 
 began with one consent to make excuse were those 
 who were satisfied with their position in the world — 
 the man who had wealth to purchase, or strength for 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 239 
 
 active exercise, or who was living joyfully with the 
 wife of his youth ; while those who had nothing else 
 to enjoy, and nowhere else to turn to, filled their 
 places — the poor, the halt, the maimed, the blind. 
 But although, in' the season of prosperity, we have 
 been acting towards a God of love in a manner that, 
 if treated so ourselves, we should call the basest in- 
 gratitude, yet He does not laugh at our calamity or 
 mock when our fear cometh. He makes His good- 
 ness to pass before us in our darkest hours as well as 
 in our brightest. He lifts us up with a tender hand 
 when we cast ourselves at His feet, and pours the 
 balm of His consolation into our rankling wounds, 
 and remembers not against us our former indifference 
 towards Him. But, although He does not retaliate, 
 and returns good for evil, we make ourselves incalcul- 
 able losers in the hour of sorrow by our neglect of 
 God in the hour of joy. It is not reasonable to 
 expect, and according to the laws of our spiritual 
 n ature w e cannot receive, the same comfort from Him 
 in our sorrow which is enjoyed by those who seek His 
 face always, when fortune smiles as well as when it 
 frowns, — who can joy in God when the cup of earthly 
 blessings is full as when it is empty. We have not 
 the same feeling of confidence and ease in His 
 presence ; we have not the same assurance of help. 
 
240 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 We have made Him a stranger to us, and ourselves 
 strangers to Him; and therefore we find it hard to 
 love Him of whom we know so little, to trust Him 
 with whom we have so little in common. To have a 
 sense of His love towards- us, we must have His love 
 in us. All this surely deepens the conviction which 
 worldly wisdom itself might teach us, that they who 
 sit at the feet of Jesus in the time of prosperity, will j 
 instinctively cast themselves there in the time of sore/ 
 necessity, knowing Him whom they have believed as i 
 tried and trusted friend, and assured — 
 
 " That He by whom our bright hours shone, 
 Our darkness best may rule." 
 
 It is one of the finest traits of a narrative full 
 of exquisite touches of human nature, that Mary 
 should have repeated the very words with which 
 Martha had greeted Jesus, " Lord, if thou hadst been 
 here, my brother had not died." This striking unison 
 of feeling between sisters, whose characters were so 
 widely different, shows how the fire of a common 
 sorrow had welded together their nature. The reason 
 of the coincidence is evident on the surface. For 
 four days Martha and Mary had sat together in their 
 darkened home, and as they talked of their departed 
 brother, the thought uppermost in their minds, and 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 241 
 
 which oftenest found expression from their lips, was 
 that the result might have been different had their 
 Divine Friend been with them. They brooded upon 
 this idea until it took exclusive possession of them, 
 and " the dirges of their hope one melancholy burden ' 
 bore." And what a beautiful illustration it is of the 
 harmonizing effect upon differently constituted persons 
 of a common sorrow ! Natures the most opposite 
 in their tastes and sympathies grow into each others 
 likeness under the discipline of what they feel deeply 
 together. 'One of the most remarkable effects of 
 intense grief is that it brings back to us the simplicity 
 of childhood/ levels all barriers and distinctions of 
 position and temperament and education ; and we are 
 drawn to one another, not by the cords of particular 
 sympathies only, but by the cords of the race. We 
 return from the conventionalities of our ordinary life 
 to the simple sorrow that belongs to the heart of 
 a child. Nature conquers all our haughty reserve, 
 our customary etiquette ; and our isolation from one 
 another is lost in the longing for sympathy. We 
 become children again, and the childlike depth of our 
 sorrow brings out not only the childlike depth of our 
 trust in our Heavenly Father, but also the childlike 
 leaning of our hearts upon our brothers and sisters 
 who are distressed with a similar woe. The mutual 
 Q 
 
242 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 sorrow that had come upon the two sisters of Bethany, 
 those four days during which they kept together the 
 mournful vigil of death, made both better than either 
 had been before ; Martha more like Mary, and Mary 
 a little more like Martha. 
 
 Deeply as Jesus sympathised with Martha in her 
 sorrow, her calmness of demeanour, and her ability 
 to enter at once into conversation with Him, did not 
 stir the keen sensibilities of His nature. He talked 
 with her tenderly and sadly, but yet composedly. The 
 friends who had come to condole with her were equally 
 calm and self-possessed. There was nothing demon- 
 strative in her grief to call forth a corresponding feel- 
 ing in their mind. Her calmness made them calm. 
 But Mary's profound sorrow touched their pity to the 
 very quick. When she cast herself at the feet of 
 Jesus in a paroxysm of grief, and the wounds of her 
 sorrow opened afresh at the first meeting with One 
 who knew and loved her brother, and who the last 
 time she saw Him witnessed some happy scene in 
 which that brother took part, and she could only 
 utter the one sentence which for four days had been 
 the pathetic refrain of the sisters 7 woe, Jesus was deeply 
 affected. The sight of Mary's overwhelming sorrow, 
 and the responsive tears which it called forth from the 
 friends standing around, stirred to the very depths the 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 243 
 
 sympathies of the Man of Sorrows. H e convers ed wittt 
 Martha, but He wept with Mary. To the < 
 words of comfort, to the other He gave tears, a part 
 of Himself, the deepest emotions of His heart. 
 
 The words, " He groaned in the spirit, and was 
 troubled, " in which the Evangelist describes this 
 emotion, have occasioned much perplexity to com- 
 mentators from the earliest times, inasmuch as in 
 the original they convey the idea of a complex 
 feeling, not only of grief, but also of anger, and 
 mean properly speaking an indignant sorrow. But 
 the question arises, "What could Jesus have been 
 angry at ? " Some of the early fathers of the Church 
 have said that He was ashamed of His own emotion, 
 and His Divine nature chided the weakness of His 
 human; others have declared that He was indignant 
 at the unbelief of the Jews, and even of the sisters ; 
 while Strauss and his school maintain that this ex- 
 pression of indignation is entirely in keeping with His 
 character as John delineates Him, easily roused as a 
 miracle-worker, and ready to fly into a passion upon 
 any sign of a refusal to believe. The first supposition 
 is manifestly inapplicable, because it is founded upon 
 stoical principles, with whose frigid inanimateness 
 Christianity has nothing in common. Jesus was a true 
 man, and His perfect humanity was always shown in 
 
244 TIIREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 His warm and lively sympathy with the griefs of others. 
 The supposition of Strauss is altogether unworthy of 
 consideration, for it proceeds from a most perverse and 
 determined misunderstanding of the whole character 
 of Christ. The ancient Jewish enemies of Jesus, who 
 sought every pretext to kill Him, made no such mis- 
 interpretation ; that was left for His modern enemies, 
 who not only destroy but calumniate. A moment's 
 sober reflection, one would think, ought to be enough 
 to show the reason of His indignant sorrow on this 
 occasion. Jesus traced effects to their causes. A 
 single case of bereavement was to Him but a specimen 
 of the whole vast range and extent of human sorrow. 
 The grief of Mary was the same in kind as the grief 
 of any sister who has lost a brother since the fall of 
 man. The object of His tearful anger was not so 
 much the single instance of Lazarus' death, and the 
 privation and mourning which it occasioned in one 
 family and circle of friends, but the whole vast history 
 of death and its sufferings as the result of sin. It 
 was not indeed the personal sin of any member of 
 the family of Bethany that had brought all this suffer- 
 ing upon them. The connection between suffering 
 and sin in individual cases cannot always be traced ; 
 but we know that even in those trials which are 
 common to the race, sickness, death, and bereave- 
 
Hi.] LAZARUS. 245 
 
 ment, suffering is the fruit of sin. When a bridge 
 has been swept away by a flood, as some one has 
 said, we do not, when contemplating its ruins, pause 
 to inquire by what exact particles of water the damage 
 was caused. It was the whole stream that did it ; the 
 action of each particle of water on the next com- 
 municating itself in turn to those next in order. And 
 so the calamity that had overtaken the family of 
 Bethany was caused by the stream of sin; and it 
 was against the whole current of sin and the author 
 of it, the great adversary of our race, that Jesus was 
 moved with a sorrowful indignation. 
 
 He groaned, not in His emotional nature merely, 
 but in His spirit, in His higher nature, in that part 
 of His being which looked before and after. He was 
 sorrowfully indignant because of that great evil which 
 had blighted the beauty and blasted the blessedness 
 of a world which He had made very good. He was 
 indignantly sorrowful because of the usurped dominion 
 ofdeath over the children of men. With the ans^iish 
 
 stricEenfbrm of Mary at His feet, He saw unrolled 
 before Him the whole long scroll of the past history 
 of this sinful and suffering race, written within and 
 without with lamentation and mourning and woe. 
 He saw all the wretchedness which in great masses 
 of the people seemed to mock the healing powers 
 
246 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 of human love and Divine grace, all the tragedies of 
 the human soul played out without any record in the 
 commonest lives, all the gigantic forms of tyranny and 
 cruelty brooding for ages on the earth, all the measure- 
 less woes which have hurried countless myriads to a 
 dark and dishonoured grave. And He knew that all 
 these sufferings, unlike the ravages of the volcano, 
 the earthquake, or the storm, were also sins, crimes 
 and wrongs which made those who inflicted them 
 more miserable than those who endured them. Phil- 
 anthropists have not seldom felt the burden of human 
 misery greater than they could bear. The apostle 
 Paul said that he and his fellow-christians who had 
 the first fruits of the Spirit, groaned within themselves 
 on account of the travailing together in pain of the 
 whole creation, with a keener and intenser anguish than 
 others felt because of their greater measure of discern- 
 ment of the evil. And even in the minds of the more 
 thoughtful of our modern sceptics, the sense of misery 
 and impotence in human life has overpowered the 
 complacent optimism of worldly carelessness, or of 
 shallower philosophies. What, then, must have been 
 the effect produced by the thought of all this wrong 
 and wretchedness in the mind of the Redeemer, with 
 all the reproach which it seemed to cast upon Divine 
 Providence. No wonder that He should be, not only 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 247 
 
 sorrowful, but indignant at the contemplation; that He 
 should have a feeling of bitterness, even though He 
 came to lighten the curse and remove the evil, that 
 His work should have been at all necessary. In the 
 groaning of Jesus, on this occasion, we have a glimpse 
 given to us of the sorrowful displeasure with which 
 the Eternal God has ever regarded man's sin ; we have 
 a revelation of the pressure upon the heart of God 
 of that burden of evil and suffering under which 
 the whole creation groans, even when it knows no 
 more why it suffers than one who tosses uneasily in 
 a fevered sleep. The Bible tells us that ever and 
 anon God repented Him that He had made the 
 world, for the scenes that took place in it were too 
 miserable and wicked for Him to look upon. We 
 see but a few passing glimpses, at rare intervals, of the 
 wretchedness of the world, and catch but a few faint 
 notes now and then of the great wailing coronach of 
 pain and despair which goes up day by day into the 
 ear of Heaven. But if we could set before our mind's 
 eye all that we have seen of sin and sickness and death 
 and misery, and multiply it a myriad fold, and realise 
 that this lies constantly bare before the holy eye of 
 God, we should have some idea what a world it is 
 which a loving and righteous God sustains ; we should 
 understand why Jesus, who gave audible expression 
 
248 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 and visible form to the Father's feelings, should groan 
 in spirit and be troubled. In the individual sorrow 
 of Mary He felt the whole burden of human sin and 
 woe ; that burden which caused Him to sweat, in the 
 Garden of Gethsemane, as it were great drops of 
 blood, and which on the cross brought that horror of 
 great darkness under which He sank out of life. 
 
 The inquiry of Jesus, " Where have ye laid him ? " 
 and the offer of the Jews to lead Him to the spot, 
 need not perplex us. Were it necessary, we should 
 not fear to admit that Jesus, as man, did not know 
 where Lazarus was interred. There was, and still is, 
 a tendency in Christian theology to deny all that is 
 essential in the humanity of Christ in particular in- 
 stances, while admitting theoretically the general fact. 
 To speak of Christ's ignorance and development would 
 be considered inconsistent with the honour due to 
 Him. • Such a tendency denies the very deepest thing 
 in Christianity, which is to humanize Divinity in the 
 person of Jesus, — that, by means of a nature like our 
 own, God may bring Himself within our range. We 
 lose the real by clinging to the ideal. In our proper 
 .endeavour to exalt Him as God, we lift Him to an 
 altitude so far above ourselves, so much higher than 
 all visible points, that He becomes a dim abstraction 
 with which we have no sympathy, and which exercises 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 249 
 
 no true power over us. Jesus assumed our nature 
 under all the limitations imposed upon humanity \ and 
 one of these limitations was, that He should acquire His 
 knowledge, as we do, by observation and inference — 
 by the cultivation and exercise of His faculties. He 
 was no prodigy, no superhuman person. He had to 
 be told things, and to find out things, like any of our- 
 selves. What He knew as God, He had to acquire 
 as man by the slow painful processes of human edu- 
 cation. He could not otherwise have known all the 
 things of a man, or been able to sympathise with 
 them. And, therefore, with a fearless truthfulness, 
 Scripture tells us that "He increased in wisdom," that 
 " He waxed strong in spirit," that "He learned obedi- 
 ence," that "He was made perfect through suffering ;" 
 leaving the mystery and seeming contradiction un- 
 touched. The combination of human ignorance and 
 superhuman knowledge, which we see apparently in 
 the working of the miracle upon Lazarus, would be in 
 entire harmony with the union of human weakness and 
 Divine power which is so noticeable in all Christ's 
 miracles, and in His own person as Son of Man and 
 Son of God — in His whole life as our human brother, 
 and yet our Divine Redeemer. It was He who 
 thirsted by the well of Sychar who offered to give 
 the woman of Samaria living water; it was He who 
 
250 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 fell asleep in the boat who rebuked the raging winds 
 and waves. And therefore we should not stumble at 
 the recorded fact, that He who said, " I am the resur- 
 rection and the life," should nevertheless ask the 
 mourners to show Him the place where His dead 
 friend was laid. But we are not under the necessity 
 of entering upon this wide and profound subject of 
 the limitations of Christ's human nature in the present 
 instance. The question which Jesus asked of the 
 Jews might well have been of a similar kind to that 
 which He asked Philip before the miracle of the 
 loaves and fishes, "Whence shall we buy bread that 
 these may eat" — not needing any advice, or being 
 Himself in any real embarrassment, but simply to test 
 the faith of the disciple. The asking of the question, 
 and the guiding of Jesus to the spot by the Jews, did 
 not necessarily imply ignorance on His part. It was 
 one of the essential circumstances of the miracle. It 
 -insured the attendance of the Jews at the grave as 
 witnesses, while the procedure might be intended to 
 work in their minds — to suggest thoughts of the object 
 of this visit to the sepulchre — and thus to prepare 
 them for the wonder which He was about to perform. 
 And now we come to the shortest and most won- 
 derful verse in the whole Bible — "Jesus wept." I 
 am strongly tempted to do nothing more than repeat 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 251 
 
 the words ; for I feel that to comment upon them is 
 to gild the sunshine and paint the lily. All words of 
 explanation are poor and tame beside that all-compre- 
 hensive saying. The Evangelist himself can add 
 nothing to them. He leaves them by themselves in 
 all their beauty and simplicity, like the small seeds 
 of some very lovely and fragrant flower, to grow in 
 every human heart, and there disclose, according to 
 individual capacities and wants, all their germinating 
 fulness. Small as a grain of mustard seed the verse 
 is ; but it has the whole kingdom of heaven within it. 
 It is the Christian religion alone that reveals to us a 
 God of tears. The conception is utterly beyond all 
 the other religions of mankind, that love to dwell upon 
 the power and grandeur of their divinities, but attri- 
 bute to them none of the meek graces and passive 
 virtues of humanity. The gods of the East were 
 stern fates, or placid deities, sunk in immortal repose 
 behind the deep blue oriental sky; while the gods of 
 Olympus, of Greek and Roman mythology, were ever 
 pictured by the poets as beings free from all sorrow, 
 leading joyful or tranquil lives unrippled by any care, 
 coming down to our woe-stricken world as visitors 
 only, bent upon selfish amusement or agreeable adven- 
 ture, undertaking, but only in sport, our human tasks, 
 and altogether untouched by the sight of our tears, 
 
252 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 and untroubled by the burden of our woe. No 
 human imagination, indeed, could reach to such a 
 sublime ideal as that of a weeping God — a God 
 stooping, suffering, and dying. Such a conception 
 is to the human mind logically impossible ; our laws 
 of thinking are totally at fault in regard to such a 
 thought viewed as a speculation. And this of itself 
 is proof sufficient that the Evangelist described a real 
 Divine person, and not a feigned or fabricated one. 
 Had the narrative been invented by human ingenuity, 
 it would not, we may be sure, have contained this 
 sentence, "Jesus wept." The imaginary Christ, as it 
 has been well said, would have walked majestically up 
 the slope of the Mount of Olives, and, standing in the 
 midst of an admiring crowd, with a halo of the sunset 
 round His brow, have commanded the dead man to 
 rise. Even the beloved disciple, with all his tender- 
 ness and spiritual insight, could not have invented 
 the real Christ — the weary and way-worn man, His 
 garments soiled and stained with the dust of travel, 
 who lifted up His eyes to heaven beside the grave of 
 His friend, and wept there tears as salt and bitter as 
 any that ever fell from human eyes. 
 
 " Jesus wept." The dead are raised to life by no 
 callous philosopher with a hard eye and unfeeling 
 heart — by no mighty prophet, who stands on a lofty 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 253 
 
 pedestal above the woe he seeks to relieve, and there 
 utters his oracular voice ; by no magician, who simply 
 waves his wand and accomplishes, with no cost or 
 effort to himself, the mighty miracle ; by no God, who 
 stands afar off in the heavens, and issues His com- 
 mandment to the dead to rise, as He issued His 
 commandment to light to appear at the creation ; no, 
 but by One who is very man, with the tender weak- 
 ness that is more moving and majestic than all our 
 strength, and the sorrowful experiences that are more 
 beautiful and precious than all our gladness. Jesus 
 came down to the level of the sorrow. He identified 
 Himself with it. He made it His own. By bearing 
 it He triumphed over it. Not by any exercise of 
 arbitrary will costing Him nothing did He recall the 
 vanished life of His buried friend. On the contrary, 
 it seems as if the greatness of the miracle required a 
 correspondingly great expenditure of sorrow and self- 
 conflict. Three times was He deeply moved. " He 
 groaned in the spirit, and was troubled," " He wept," 
 " Jesus, again groaning in Himself, cometh to the 
 grave." Himself bore our infirmities and carried our 
 sorrows. In the sorrow, in the sweat of His soul, He 
 wrought the miracles which are significantly called 
 " works." He bruised the serpent's head through the 
 wounding of His own heel. 
 
254 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 "Jesus wept" We are accustomed to think of 
 Christ's sorrows as only vicarious; but, though He 
 was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for 
 our iniquities, His was no mere rehearsal of sorrow. 
 His sorrows were His own as fully as our sorrows are 
 ours. We say that there are two sad human experi- 
 ences which the Man of Sorrows did not know — the 
 sorrow caused by personal sin, and the sorrow caused 
 by personal bereavement. Sinless, He could have had 
 no remorse ; a homeless man, He had no home to be 
 despoiled by death. And yet, on the two occasions on 
 which He is said to have wept, His tears were caused 
 by the sins and miseries of the doomed city of Jerusa- 
 lem, and by the anguish of a household which death 
 had made desolate, and He felt these as if they were 
 His own. 
 
 " Jesus wept." To many minds this sorrow of Jesus 
 is incomprehensible. Some commentators stumble at 
 it. Why weep, when the next moment life is to be 
 restored to the dead? Jesus certainly knew that He 
 was about immediately to restore Lazarus \ and, in- 
 deed, He had said, " I am glad for your sakes that I 
 was not there, to the intent that ye might believe." 
 But this apparent difficulty only gives us a deeper 
 glimpse of the perfect humanity of Jesus. He looked 
 at the matter not from His own, but from Martha's 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 
 
 2 55 
 
 and Mary's point of view. He knew what He was 
 about to do; but they did not know, and therefore His 
 feelings were touched by the sight of their suffering. 
 He wept in sympathy with them, although He was 
 about to change their sorrow into joy; He sorrowed 
 with them for the very sorrow which His presence 
 might have prevented. Who could shed tears in such 
 circumstances but Christ ? Would the physician who 
 knew that he had the power of giving immediate relief 
 be affected by the tears of a family drowned in grief? 
 Had a mere man been gifted by God with the power 
 to raise the dead, he would be so eager to exhibit 
 that marvellous power, and thereby to still the 
 mourners' woe, that he would be unable to weep 
 whilst on the way to the grave. But Jesus was more 
 than man ; and therefore, as the greater comprehends 
 the less, so He fulfilled the perfect ideal of man. 
 And is not this scene at Bethany a picture of what He 
 who is the same yesterday to-day and for ever is still ? 
 Although He has entered into His glory, and is seated 
 on the throne of the universe, He weeps with us 
 when we weep ; sympathises with us in our sorrow, 
 while He waits to be gracious, waits to bring light 
 out of our darkness, and change our sorrow into ever- 
 lasting joy. 
 
 " Jesus wept." When He saw Mary weeping, and 
 
256 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 the Jews also weeping, He wept. We do not usually 
 speak of the imagination of Jesus. And yet it was 
 this faculty that enabled Him to realise so vividly the 
 sorrow of others, on this occasion, as to stir up the 
 deepest feelings of His own breast. One writer has 
 classed the imagination among the moral qualities, 
 and as one of the most valuable of them. And 
 certainly some of the noblest actions are due to the 
 possession of this faculty, and some of the basest and 
 most hateful characteristics of humanity are caused by 
 the absence of it. If we could put ourselves in the 
 place of others, and imagine what they think and how 
 they feel, there would be far less cruelty, selfishness, 
 bigotry, hardness, and pretentiousness in the world. 
 The tortures of the Inquisition could never have been 
 invented by a human being who had the least spark of 
 imagination ; and many of the petty selfishnesses and 
 cruelties of common life would never have been in- 
 dulged or inflicted were men and women able to form 
 any idea of what it is that they make their victims 
 suffer. How reassuring, then, is the thought that 
 there is something in God that answers to our own 
 imagination, and by means of which He can put 
 Himself in our place ; for we have in this recognition 
 the certainty that He cannot deal otherwise than 
 fairly with us. He whose imagination on earth en- 
 
HI.] LAZARUS. 257 
 
 abled Him to realise the sorrow of the family of 
 Bethany, knows now, on the throne of heaven, what 
 we feel and need, and has the truest sympathy with 
 our state, and will in the end judge us equitably. 
 
 "Jesus wept.'' There is no human power that can 
 so deeply touch the soul of a sinner as the sorrow 
 which his sin has brought upon a loved and loving 
 heart. The tears of Jesus have touched many whom 
 His terrors could not have moved. We have seen God 
 in the fire and smoke, and heard His voice in the 
 thunders of Sinai; we have felt His judgments and 
 trembled under His power \ but we have stiffened our- 
 selves against all the wondrous displays and activities 
 of His omnipotent rule. But when we see Him weep- 
 ing, we are melted at once. When we look upon the 
 tears of Jesus, caused by our sin, and behold in 
 them the patience and tenderness of His love, our 
 hearts are carried captive ; we relent and become 
 as pliable as little children. We understand through 
 those sacred tears that, whatever sin may cost the 
 sinner, it costs far more to the Saviour. We recognise 
 in them the manifestation of a Divine love to the 
 prodigal and the guilty which cannot be satisfied, 
 even amid the glory of heaven, while one lost soul is 
 wandering sadly in the wilderness; of a sympathy with 
 even the sinful woes of humanity which cannot sub- 
 
 R 
 
258 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 side into the calm of the eternal joy, until His hand 
 has wiped away all tears from weeping eyes. The 
 grace that is in these tears of Christ is the conqueror 
 of sin • it triumphs where the law fails. 
 
 "Jesus wept." Twice, I have said, it is recorded 
 that Jesus wept. He wept in sympathy with the 
 sisters of Bethany. A few days afterwards He wept 
 in pity over the city of Jerusalem. The Greek words 
 employed to signify these two weepings are not the 
 same. The weeping of Jesus at the grave of Lazarus 
 is expressed by a word in the original which means 
 a silent flow of tears. It was a soothing sorrow 
 that He felt, for it was well with His friend; and 
 it was well with his living sisters who were weeping 
 around. Infinite love mingled its tears with those 
 of Martha and Mary, and the light of heaven illumined 
 their darkness and cheered their sadness. It is a 
 blessed' thought to us that "Jesus wept," when we 
 too have not to sorrow as those who have no hope ; 
 there is no gloom in such a case in the desolation ; 
 there is no bitterness in the tears. The grief of Jesus 
 is left on record to comfort our grief. His sorrow 
 pities our sorrow ; our wounded hearts are healed by 
 the touch of His wounded heart; and His inspiring 
 words about resurrection and life shine with greater 
 beauty and brightness in the darkness of death, because 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 
 
 they are jewelled with the tears of His tender pity. 
 But the weeping of Jesus over Jerusalem is expressed 
 by a word that signifies loud lamentation. His tears 
 were bitter and burning, for Jerusalem was resisting 
 the Divine love and despising the heavenly grace that 
 had come to her. An infinitude of yearning pity 
 overmastered Him, and He not only wept, but burst 
 into a passion of lamentation, in which the choked 
 voice seemed to struggle for utterance. We can hear 
 the very sound of tears in His words, broken as they 
 are by emotion, " If thou hadst known, even thou, 
 at least in this thy day, the things that belong to thy 
 peace, but now they are hid from thine eyes."' And 
 the solemn lesson which the weeping of Jesus over 
 Jerusalem, while it was yet fair and flourishing and 
 unconscious of its doom, teaches us, is that we may 
 paralyse our own power of turning to Christ even while 
 He is waiting to be gracious, and all the possibilities 
 of salvation may be over before death comes ; that 
 u on the dead soul in the living body the gates of the 
 eternal tomb may have closed, never more to be 
 opened.'' Over the grave of a soul that is unmelted 
 by all the touching proofs of His Divine love, and 
 dead to all the unspeakable tendernesses of His cross, 
 Jesus pours out tears of unutterable sadness : and the 
 misery to which in such a case we doom ourselves. 
 
3 6o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 presses as a sorer burden upon His heart, than all the 
 sufferings and sorrows which He endured for us in 
 His expiatory life and death. 
 
 The sight of Jesus' tears produced a deep im- 
 pression upon the bystanders. It led them to form 
 a more favourable opinion of Him than they had 
 hitherto entertained. Sorrow for their mutual friend 
 reconciled them to Him for a moment ; and they lost 
 sight of their animosity in the indulgence of a common 
 sympathy — " Behold how He loved him." Tears are 
 not, however, always the sign of a devoted attachment. 
 There are narrow and shallow natures, as I have al- 
 ready said, that can be easily made to weep; while wide 
 and profound natures may give little outward evidence 
 of an agony that is rending their very heart-strings 
 and changing the complexion of their whole life. 
 Throw a pebble into a brooklet, and you violently 
 agitate the whole mass of water from side to side ; 
 while a stone cast into a broad deep river creates 
 on the calm surface only a few ripples as it sinks 
 to the depths. There is often a hard, selfish and 
 stubborn heart beneath the temperament whose sensi- 
 bilities are quickly moved by every breeze of circum- 
 stance. Experience of life has too often proved 
 that noisy, demonstrative sorrow, like the loud- 
 railing rain, runs off the soul very quickly; while 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 
 
 quiet, unobtrusive grief accumulates and remains, like 
 the silent falling of snow-flakes, until all warm colours 
 and bright forms of joy are blotted out by the uniform 
 drift, and all life lies under a drear} 7 white shroud of 
 death. In the case of Jesus, however, the judgment 
 of the Jews was correct. His tears were a true indi- 
 cation of the depth and extent of His love. His 
 nature was calm and deep, moving with a profound 
 heavenly peace in the midst of the most agitating 
 circumstances — as the earth revolves stedfastly on its 
 axis while storms are raging on its surface. He did 
 not usually betray the emotions that filled Him ; and 
 it is a proof of the powerful nature of His emotions. 
 on this occasion, that He should have given them 
 outward expression. But the Evangelist, while re- 
 cording the exceptional incident, is at the same time 
 careful to .use a phrase in the original which implies, 
 not that Jesus "was troubled," but that He troubled 
 Himself. He was not played upon passively by the 
 emotions of others, like the surface of a lake that is 
 agitated by the uncertain wind : a volcanic fire within 
 stirred the very depths of His nature. 
 
 The highest proof which the Jews possessed of the 
 love of Jesus to Lazarus, was the expression of His 
 sorrow. But we have far higher proof of His love to us. 
 He gave His tears for Lazarus ; He gave His life for 
 
262 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 us ! " He loved me, and gave Himself for me " — not 
 only for my benefit, but in my place, as my surety and 
 substitute — may every believer say with the Apostle 
 Paul. " Greater love hath no man than this, that a 
 man lay down his life for his friend." But the love 
 of Jesus is more than human; for He laid down His 
 life for us, not while we were friends, but while we 
 were aliens and enemies — " While we were yet sinners, 
 Christ died for us." The Sinless One took the place 
 of the sinful. The Eternal Creator gave Himself for 
 the guilty perishing creature. Blessed be God, not 
 the tears shed at the grave of a friend, but the long 
 history of His suffering life and of His atoning death 
 of shame and pain, is the measure of the love of 
 Christ to us. The Cross, on which He consummated 
 the sacrifice of Himself, is the symbol and the throne 
 of His conquering love. Taking my place beside that 
 Cross, and gazing upon the buffeted face and the 
 thorn-crowned brow, and the nailed hands and feet, 
 and the agonising thirst, and the horror of great dark- 
 ness, and the mournful eyes closing in death — I can 
 say, "Behold how He loved me!" And are tears 
 from me, caused by the contemplation of that dying 
 love, sufficient to show my love to Him? Is it 
 enough that my sympathies should be excited, and 
 I should weep over the pathos of this devotion, or 
 
LAZARUS. 263 
 
 even adore and magnify the sufferer? Xo ; for all 
 that may be merely a sentimental sorrow, an outburst 
 of natural feeling, which a touching and well-told 
 fictitious story could have produced in an equal or 
 even stronger degree, leaving the depths of the heart 
 utterly unaffected. It is not enough even to bewail 
 the sins that caused all His sufferings ; I must give 
 practical and conclusive evidence of the sincerity of 
 my feelings by keeping His commandments, and lead- 
 ing a life of devotion to His service. His giving 
 Himself for me is the proof of His love; and my 
 giving myself for Him is the proof of my love. His 
 love reproduces itself in me only when I live no" more 
 unto myself, but unto Him that died for me and rose 
 again. Let me seek, therefore, to live so holy and 
 devoted a life by the strength of His death, and in 
 imitation of His example, as that even the enemies of 
 religion may be constrained to say of me, " Behold 
 how he loved Him." 
 
 But the sight of Christ's tears did not produce the 
 same impression upon all the spectators. There were 
 some among them who questioned the extent of His 
 love — seeing that He calmly permitted the light of 
 life to fade out of the home of His friends. i; Could 
 not this man,"' they said, " who opened the eyes of 
 the blind, have caused that even this man should not 
 
264 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 have died?" He weeps over the calamity now; it 
 would have been better far had He prevented it alto- 
 gether. They had heard of the wonderful cure which, 
 a short time before, had been wrought upon a man 
 who was born blind. It had been judicially investi- 
 gated by the authorities ; it had made a great noise in 
 Jerusalem. Perhaps some of themselves had known 
 the man, or witnessed the cure, or taken part in his 
 examination and expulsion from the synagogue. The 
 genuineness of the marvel could not, therefore, be 
 doubted. This man, beyond all question or cavil, 
 did possess very extraordinary powers. Why, then, 
 did He not exert those powers to save His friend? 
 It was not, surely, more difficult to heal a fever than 
 to cure a congenital blindness. This admission is 
 remarkable, not only because it is the testimony of 
 Christ's enemies to His miraculous gifts, but also 
 because, of the contradictions which it involves. Those 
 who made it do not seem to have heard of the other 
 restorations of Jesus in far Galilee, or, at least, to 
 have realised them so vividly as the cure of blindness 
 in their own neighbourhood. And, therefore, the 
 idea seems never to have occurred to them that He 
 who could cure radical blindness could raise the dead 
 — that He who could have prevented death could 
 have conquered death. But, further — if. as they be- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 265 
 
 lieved, Jesus won His power of doing miracles from 
 Heaven on account of His surpassing goodness, then 
 they might have been sure that that very goodness 
 would not have allowed Him to act inconsistently 
 with it in the case of His friend — that nothing would 
 have prevented Him from exercising His power had 
 it been at all possible. But these contradictions did 
 not strike them any more than did the contradiction 
 in what they said regarding the blind man strike His 
 disciples — " Who did sin, this man or his parents, 
 that he was born blind?" They are characteristic 
 and significant. They are involved in all similar 
 accusations of the Divine procedure. They are based 
 upon the grand primary fact of the permission of evil. 
 Could not the Lord have prevented the fall of man 
 and all its consequences? we ask; forgetting that 
 human freedom stood in the way of compulsory sin- 
 lessness, and that God could not forcibly oppose the 
 free-will which He had bestowed as an inalienable gift 
 upon man — without contradicting Himself. The 
 question which the Jews put is one which often occurs 
 to us, though we may not give it expression, when 
 we are perplexed by the mysteries of God's provi- 
 dence, and our feet well-nigh slip. We see the head 
 of a family suddenly cut down in the pride of his 
 strength, and his wife and children, tenderly nurtured 
 
2 66 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 and cared for, left without provision to do battle, in 
 their grief and helplessness, with a cold and bitter 
 world. We see a loving Christian mother taken from 
 her little ones when they most need her, and they 
 are left to grow up as best they may under the cold 
 shelter and hard rule of an unloving guardian. And 
 the thought arises — Could not He who pitieth us as a 
 father pitieth his children, who comforts us as one 
 whom his mother comforteth, have caused that this 
 husband, this mother, should not have died? He 
 has done things as great and gracious in their own 
 way for us before. Every human history contains a 
 record of special providences and Divine interposi- 
 tions, in situations of extreme danger and difficulty, 
 which may be regarded as little short of miraculous. 
 Why, therefore, does not He who, in those former 
 instances, manifested His love and power in our be- 
 half — interfere for the prevention of this present 
 calamity ? 
 
 The widow of Zarephath might have said of Elisha, 
 Could not this man who multiplied my cruse of oil 
 and my barrel of meal day after day in the midst of 
 universal famine, have caused that my child should 
 not have died? Why the power should have failed 
 in the one case and not in the other must have seemed 
 a dark mystery to her. Why should it have gone so 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 267 
 
 far as it did and no farther? This is the perplexing 
 element in all the trials of life. Just as of old Christ's 
 miracle-working created disappointment and perplexity 
 because it went only a certain length — for it seemed so 
 unaccountable that the extraordinary power should be 
 put forth only in a few cases and at rare intervals, 
 when it might have been exercised on every occasion 
 in bestowing blessings and warding off evils — so it 
 seems a disappointing and perplexing circumstance in 
 the providential dealing of God with His own people, 
 that when He does so much for them He does not 
 do more j that when He gives them so many things 
 richly to enjoy He takes away or withholds from them 
 the very thing upon which their heart is most set. It 
 is natural to expect that the favourite of Heaven 
 should be exempted from the evils which fall upon 
 others. A friend, if he had the power, would make life 
 easy and pleasant to his friend ; a father, if he could, 
 would remove every thorn from the path of his child. 
 God has the power, and if He is the Father and the 
 Friend of His people, why does He allow them to suffer 
 and to die when by the slightest exercise of His will He 
 could have averted suffering and death ? The sorely- 
 tried believer may say, " If I am His, why am I thus?" 
 And yet, as a matter of fact, the special favour of God 
 to the widow of Zarephath did not prevent her son 
 
268 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 from dying; the love of Jesus did not shield the 
 family of Bethany from bereavement. David said, 
 and his own history abundantly verified the words, 
 "Many are the afflictions of the righteous;" and the 
 Saviour said to His disciples, and the saying w r as 
 fulfilled throughout their whole subsequent experience, 
 " In the world ye shall have tribulation." He who 
 opened the eyes of the blind man in Jerusalem could 
 no doubt have prevented the death of Lazarus. That 
 He had the power is self-evident; there is no difficulty 
 about that. But, as I have shown already, there were 
 higher considerations that restrained His omnipotent 
 arm. The personal discipline of Lazarus, the educa- 
 tion of His sisters in the higher Christian life, the 
 convicting the Jews of righteousness and judgment, 
 the fulfilment of Christ's own destiny, and the in- 
 struction and comfort of the whole Christian church 
 down • to the latest ages, were purposes to be sub- 
 served by our Lord's allowing the illness of Lazarus to 
 run its natural course. 
 
 And considerations, in their own order equally great 
 (md gracious, will be seen in every case in which the 
 /natural evils of life are allowed to do their work upon 
 God's children. Indeed, every instance of suffering 
 on the part of His people is only an illustration pf 
 the great principle which regulated His treatment of 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 
 
 our first parents. He could have kept Adam and 
 Eve after the fall in Eden, with all things fair and 
 pleasant around them ; but He chose rather to banish 
 them into the wilderness, that through the discipline 
 of its trials and hardships they might recover a higher 
 happiness and nobler freedom than they had lost. 
 This exile He Himself shared \ He went out with 
 them from Eden into the accursed and thorny waste, 
 and was afflicted in all their afflictions. God could 
 still surround His people with the calm idyllic life of 
 Eden, but He has a higher blessedness in store for 
 them ; and therefore He allures them into the wilder- 
 ness, that there He may speak comfortably to them, 
 and establish closer and tenderer relations between 
 Himself and them than they could ever otherwise 
 have known. He could have saved Lazarus from 
 death ; but how much, in that case, would have been 
 lost to Lazarus, to his sisters, and to all the race. In 
 allowing Lazarus to die, He had the higher good of 
 all concerned at heart : and, in the sad lonely wilder- 
 ness of bereavement to which He allured the sisters, 
 He made Himself their companion in tribulation : He 
 wept with them and shared the burden of their sorrow. 
 Xot to our first parents in the garden did God disclose 
 what He has shown to the fallen guilty race of men. 
 in the wilderness of pain and toil and death to which 
 
270 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 He banished them — His pillar of cloud and fire, His 
 tabernacle of witness, His smitten rock, and all His 
 watchful solicitude. Not to the unbroken and pros- 
 perous family-circle of Bethany did Jesus reveal such 
 exquisite tendernesses and depths of holy pity and love, 
 as He disclosed when death had made their home 
 desolate and their hearts empty and lonely. He talked 
 with them in the Eden of their unblighted domestic 
 happiness, and manifested to them the wisdom of the 
 teacher and the kindness of the friend; but, in the 
 wilderness of their bereavement, under the dark shadow 
 of death that brooded over their home and heart, He 
 wept and suffered with them ; He groaned in the spirit, 
 and was troubled; He revealed to them the unutterable 
 beauty and tenderness of a love that passeth knowledge. 
 And, therefore, as it was expedient for the disciples 
 that Jesus Himself should go away, in order that the 
 Comforter might come and show to them higher 
 glimpses of the Saviour's person and work ; so it was 
 expedient that Lazarus should go away from the home 
 in Bethany, in order that, in the loss of the earthly 
 friend, the sisters might gain truer and nobler views 
 of the Heavenly Friend that sticketh closer than a 
 brother. The power of Jesus could have prevented 
 death ; but they needed to know other attributes of 
 His nature besides His mere power; they needed to 
 
in.] LAZARUS. c;i 
 
 know His sympathy and tenderness ; they needed to 
 know the power, not of His arm only, but of His heart. 
 We need other revelations of God's character besides 
 His omnipotence, and these revelations can only be 
 given in times of sorrow and bereavement. " Thou 
 knowest my soul in adversities, and I know Thee in 
 them,*' may every tried and trusting soul say to God. 
 
 In due time the sisters of Lazarus knew and under- 
 stood fully the reason why He who opened the eyes of 
 the blind man did not interpose to save their brother 
 from death. And, similarly, if we endure patiently 
 and profit wisely by the evils which God permits to 
 come upon us, we shall know in due time the reason 
 of them and be satisfied. We shall understand why 
 He who feeds us day by day, by an agency as wonder- 
 ful as that of Elijah's ravens, should, nevertheless, as 
 in his case, allow our brook to dry up ; why He who 
 causes our barrel of meal and cruse of oil to be 
 replenished afresh every day, should, notwithstanding, 
 leave the child or the friend of our love to die. We 
 shall understand why He who dwells with us as our 
 loving Friend and familiar Guest should tarry while 
 our trouble goes on, and permit death to outrun His 
 love ; why He who has done such great things for us, 
 whereof we are glad, opened our eyes, and raised us 
 from death to life, should yet have allowed the object 
 
272 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 of our heart's devotion to die, and life to be to us 
 henceforward like the white silent channel of a brook 
 from which the water has failed. And, in the under- 
 standing, we shall realise the blessed truth, that He 
 who sent His own Son to share their toil and suf- 
 fering, when He sent fallen humanity into exile, 
 sends the Man of Sorrows with us into the midst of 
 our sorrows, that memories of His own Gethsemane 
 and Calvary may mingle with ours ; and thus, in the 
 fellowship of His sufferings, create a friendship and 
 establish a communion which will make the bed of 
 sickness and the chamber of sorrow and death seem 
 the very gate of heaven. 
 
 And now Jesus stood beside the sepulchre. It was 
 a simple cave hewn out of the side of the hill, on the 
 outside of the village — for the Jews never placed the 
 dead among the living — and not far from the boundary 
 wall. Within this cave there were smaller cavities 
 formed in the sides of the rock for the reception of 
 the bodies of the dead, after the manner of 'the 
 Egyptian tombs in which mummies were deposited. 
 Over the mouth of the cave was laid a huge stone, in 
 order to guard the remains within from desecration, 
 and especially from the ravages of dogs, jackals, and 
 other beasts of prey, which have not unfrequently been 
 known to rifle tombs of their contents. This posses- 
 
III.] % LAZARUS. 273 
 
 sion of a family vault, a separate place of interment, 
 is another incidental proof of the wealth and social 
 position of the household of Bethany. Only the 
 wealthy were laid in the sepulchres of their fathers — 
 in portions of land purchased in fee, and set apart 
 for purposes of family interment. The poor were 
 buried promiscuously in ground that belonged to the 
 whole community. It is significantly said that " The 
 Living "Water" sat weary and thirsty beside the well 
 of Sychar ; here it is said, with equal significance, that 
 "The Resurrection and the Life" stood before a 
 tomb — groaning in Himself. Without, in the open 
 air, the sky is serenely blue, and the sunshine purely 
 bright, and the landscape calmly fair. The feathery 
 palm-trees and dusky olives cast their motionless 
 shadows on the white limestone rocks, as if there were 
 no sorrow or death in the world. Within all is gloom 
 and horror, from the thought of which the soul recoils : 
 a dead, forsaken body, buried out of sight, though once 
 tenderly loved and admired, undergoing, as it might 
 appear, that fearful process of decomposition by which 
 dust returns to dust and ashes to ashes. The con- 
 trast between the living beauty of unconscious nature, 
 and the repulsive stillness and decay of death — which 
 often strikes us sadly on a bright summer day, when 
 laying our withered roses and lilies in the garden 
 s 
 
274 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 sepulchre — must have forced itself upon the attention 
 of Jesus, and deepened for Him the solemn sadness 
 of the scene. It is said that He groaned in Himself 
 when He came to the grave. The cause of His 
 groaning on this occasion is, I think, different from 
 that which moved Him so deeply before. His sorrow 
 is no longer outward, but inward. None of the sur- 
 rounding spectators, watching him keenly, can see 
 the thrill of anguish that passes from His heart 
 through His frame, and pulsates in every nerve. It is 
 a secret sorrow, with which no stranger can inter- 
 meddle — a cross which cannot be displayed — a 
 groaning which cannot be uttered. No doubt the 
 same indignant horror of death as the seal and token 
 of sin, as an unnatural usurpation over a race made 
 for immortality, entered into the emotion in both cases ; 
 but the former groaning had in it more of the sympa- 
 thetic element — it was caused by sorrow for the death 
 of a friend ; whereas this "groaning is purely personal, 
 and is caused by the anticipation of His own death. 
 We may safely suppose, that not only was His heart 
 sorely pained because of the breach which death had 
 •made in this once tenderly-united family, tearing 
 asunder the most cherished human relationship, but 
 also that the cave in the rock, with the stone laid at 
 its entrance, presented to Him in anticipation the 
 
ill.] LAZARUS. 275 
 
 picture of Joseph's tomb hewn out of the rock in the 
 garden, to which He was fast hastening. He who 
 looked through all the natural causes of death to its 
 origin in the moral lapse of man, looked, we may 
 suppose, on this occasion beyond the immediate cir- 
 cumstances of the burial of His friend — to the con- 
 summation of the power of death in His own death. 
 His prescient eye at that moment overlooked time 
 and place, and saw across the valley of Jehosaphat, at 
 the foot of Calvary, that " place of a skull," where His 
 own dead body, with the wounds of the cross upon it, 
 was to repose in the humiliation of the grave. He saw 
 that grim dungeon of the Castle of Despair, white with 
 the blanched bones of countless victims, whose gates 
 closing a brief space around Him, He was to carry 
 triumphantly up the hill of God ; where, through the 
 greatest of defeats, He was to achieve the mightiest 
 of victories. He saw the dark, thorny, blood-stained 
 path, leading down to the dungeon, which He had 
 to traverse with the crushing load of human guilt 
 upon His soul, with the desertion of Heaven and 
 the malignity of hell and the cruelty of earth con- 
 centrating and deepening into the hour and power 
 of darkness around Him ; and oh ! need it be won- 
 dered at that His heart should for a moment have 
 sunk within Him — that the terrible prospect should 
 
276 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 have extorted from Him that groan of unspeakable 
 anguish. 
 
 Our Saviour's expiatory death and burial, with all 
 the painful and humiliating circumstances connected 
 with them, were never absent from His thoughts \ but 
 there were moments when the anticipation of them 
 came over Him with peculiar vividness and agonizing 
 power. Here and there in the story of the Evan- 
 gelists we come upon some dark significant expression 
 which shows us how bitter an element it formed in 
 His cup of suffering. Ominous hints of some great 
 calamity awaiting Him fell ever and anon from His 
 lips in earnest converse with His awe-struck disciples. 
 Again and again we hear Him saying, although they 
 comprehended it not, "The Son of Man shall be 
 delivered into the hands of men;" "I have a baptism 
 to be baptized with, and how am I straitened until it 
 be accomplished." With touching resemblance to 
 our impatience at the prospect of some imminent evil 
 which we can foresee but cannot prevent, He has- 
 tened to Jerusalem, as it were, more speedily to anti- 
 cipate His certain doom. And surely it is not 
 unlawful to suppose that He who was perfect man 
 as well as perfect God, felt the longing that we often 
 feel, to realise and terminate the expected suffering, 
 since it was inevitable — to abridge the interval of 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 277 
 
 terrible waiting and suspense, and obtain a dreadful 
 relief from more dreadful anticipation by plunging at 
 once into the worst of the reality. Like an alpine 
 region, where the only scenery is one great mountain 
 range and its shadows; so His whole life was one 
 unutterable sorrow and its gloomy anticipations, one 
 long weary walk through the valley of the shadow of 
 death. The prevision of the darker sufferings in 
 store for Him, was ever harder to bear than the 
 anguish of His present sufferings ; and He needed 
 ever and anon to brace Himself up by calling to 
 mind the object of His suffering, and the joy set 
 before Him. " Father, save me from this hour : but 
 for this cause came I unto this hour." 
 
 And surely this anguish which Jesus suffered through 
 the knowledge and anticipation of the future — an an- 
 guish which- was mostly inward, but occasionally burst 
 the bonds of reserve and became visible though inex- 
 plicable to others — suggests to us irresistibly the great- 
 ness of the love which He bore to the souls of men, 
 the fixity of His determination to do the will of His 
 Father in the salvation of mankind. It must have 
 been an infinite love indeed which such stormy waters 
 could not quench, which such overwhelming floods 
 could not drown; it must have been a Divine will 
 indeed which sorrows from hell, earth and heaven. 
 
278 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 the endurance and the prospect of them, could not 
 turn aside by a hairbreadth from its invincible purpose 
 of mercy. And surely it is a precious thought, that be- 
 cause His whole path of life was darkened by the 
 shadow cast before it of atoning death, He has, in 
 bearing this peculiar form of suffering, delivered us 
 who otherwise all our life-time would be subject to 
 bondage through fear of death. From the wretched- 
 ness of a life continually saddened and embittered by 
 the fear of death, Christ has freed us by bearing it 
 Himself, by becoming our substitute in this as in all 
 other things. To those who have no interest in Christ, 
 death must of necessity be " the king of terrors \ " for 
 there is nothing in their case to mitigate its evils and 
 relieve its gloom. And the wonder is that they walk 
 so carelessly through life with such a sword of Da- 
 mocles hanging over them. But those who are united 
 to Jesus in the bonds of the everlasting covenant 
 should have no cause for dread at the prospect of 
 dissolution. It is natural, no doubt, that the thought 
 of the mysterious change awaiting them should occa- 
 sionally cast a gloom and a heaviness over their minds ; 
 that they should shrink at times with nature's weak- 
 ness from the suffering, the loss, the destruction of 
 beauty and happiness that accompany it. But ever 
 to look forward to it with terror, ever to live under 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 279 
 
 its darkening and blighting power, this in their case 
 would be inexcusable. Those to whom Christ said 
 by representation amid the tombs of Bethany, " He 
 that liveth and believeth in me shall never die," stand 
 in a very different position from those who have 
 no hope, and ought therefore to rise above the fears 
 and forebodings of nature. The death which Jesus 
 dreaded, and which drew from Him the inward groan 
 at Lazarus' tomb, they have no reason whatever to 
 dread. Jesus has taken away its sting, blunted it in 
 the wounds of the cross. All that made death truly 
 terrible, the wrath of God, the curse of sin, has been 
 endured by their Surety and Substitute. And now 
 nothing remains behind but the shadow of the de- 
 stroying angel's wing, that quenches the light of 
 life only for a moment — the simple act of yielding 
 up the breath, with all its natural sorrows and 
 sufferings, and the transition from a world of sin 
 and toil and woe, to a heaven of eternal purity and 
 happiness. 
 
 Jesus said, " Take ye away the stone." As I have 
 said, there is a strange commingling of strength and 
 helplessness, ignorance and knowledge in all our 
 Saviour's proceedings on this occasion, which is ex- 
 ceedingly perplexing to many minds ; and yet, when 
 the clue is obtained, we are lost in wonder at the 
 
280 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 perfect consistency of His whole method of procedure. 
 Commentators say that in one instance He manifests 
 His Divine power, and in another His human weak- 
 ness; in one case He speaks and acts as man, in 
 another case as God. But such an explanation is 
 altogether unworthy of the dignity of our Saviour's 
 character and the glory of His work. It is a low 
 conception which would represent Him as now hiding 
 His Divinity behind the mask of the features of an 
 ordinary man, and now allowing it to shine forth in 
 all its naked effulgence ; as presenting to us, first, the 
 Divine side of His life, and then the human, as if 
 there were no bond of union between them. Such 
 a conception is a virtual giving up of the fact of the 
 incarnation itself, which, if it is anything, is the ab- 
 solute unity of the Divine and the human in one 
 person. There is a harmony about all His words 
 and actions, on this great occasion, which is altogether 
 missed by those who believe in a Nestorian separation 
 between the Divine and the human, if not in His 
 person, at least in His words and actions. Christ 
 acted uniformly as God and man, for the Divine nature 
 was in Him not only co-existent with His human, but 
 also co-efhcient; and His human nature is the only 
 medium through which we can behold His Divine. 
 And therefore there is a profound purpose and sig- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 281 
 
 nificance in this command to the spectators to roll 
 away the stone from the entrance into the tomb. It 
 is a typical command, disclosing to us things higher 
 than itself, revealing a glimpse of the difference be- 
 tween the new creation and the old. In the old 
 creation God accomplished alone and unaided the 
 mighty work of summoning the world into existence. 
 He rested when His work was finished in a sublime 
 solitude, and none shared His rest. The morning stars 
 indeed sang together, and the sons of God shouted for 
 joy, when the foundation of the earth was laid and 
 the cope-stone of the wonderful structure was brought 
 forth; but their song of joy was a song of praise 
 on account of a victory achieved by another, not of 
 exultation over a triumph achieved by themselves. 
 They gave no help, and therefore they could not enter 
 into the rest, the joy of their Lord; that restful joy 
 which we ourselves experience when our dreams are 
 realised and our efforts crowned with success. But 
 in the new creation man is a fellow-worker with God ; 
 he works out his salvation with fear and trembling, 
 for it is God that worketh in him both to will and to 
 do. of His good pleasure. And in seeking the salvation 
 of others, he is enabled in some measure to under- 
 stand what Christ did and endured for himself; he 
 sympathises with the love and pity for the souls of 
 
282 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 men which induced Christ to lay down His life, and 
 would willingly imitate this noble self-sacrifice and 
 devotion. He enters into the fellowship of Christ's 
 sufferings, and even fills up, as the apostle says of 
 himself, " that which is left behind of the afflictions of 
 Christ, for His body's sake, the Church." And when 
 his labour of love is successful, he rises into com- 
 munion with the joy that is in the presence of the 
 angels over one sinner that repenteth, which fills the 
 heart of God Himself, and which was set before 
 Christ as the reward of His sufferings. Not by the 
 Almighty fiat alone is the new creation established 
 upon the ruins of the old, but also by the sweat of 
 man's brow and the sweat of his soul. And in the 
 end, when the work of grace is all finished, and the 
 primeval blessing is more than restored, all who have 
 helped to bring about the glorious consummation, by 
 their tears, or their toils, shall enter into the joy of 
 their Lord, and rest with Him from their labours, and 
 their works shall follow them. "To him that over- 
 cometh, will I give to sit with me in my throne, even 
 as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father 
 in His throne." We are companions in the kingdom 
 and patience of Jesus Christ. We are crucified with 
 Him here, and we reign with Him above. The sword 
 of the kingdom on earth is the sword of the Lord 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 283 
 
 and of Gideon ; and the new song of heaven is the 
 song of Moses and the Lamb. 
 
 This is the far-reaching truth, of which the simple 
 and apparently insignificant words of Christ to the 
 bystanders beside the tomb of Lazarus testify — " Take 
 ye away the stone." One of the most striking char- 
 acteristics of the miracles of Jesus is the fact that they 
 all fall in, by a natural harmony, with that law of 
 human life which ordains that in the sweat of his face 
 man shall eat bread — that all blessings shall come 
 from toil and pain. These miracles were not irregular 
 wonders, but Divine aids to human labour, Divine 
 developments and completions of human beginnings. 
 They were performed, not without human means, but 
 through them. In them man helped Christ as far as 
 he could to perform them. In each of them man had 
 his part to do; and upon this human basis Christ 
 accomplished what man could not do. The weakness 
 of man was aided and supplemented by the Almighty 
 power of God. The disciples toil all night against 
 contrary winds and waves, until nature is fairly ex- 
 hausted, and Christ comes in the fourth watch and 
 stills the storm, and brings the boat immediately to 
 land. The servants fill the water-pots and draw out 
 the water, and Christ changes the water thus drawn 
 into wine. Elijah stretches himself upon the dead 
 
284 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 child ; he warms the cold corpse by his own vitality ; 
 this is all that he can do in preparation for the miracle ; 
 and what human skill and love cannot do, God accom- 
 plishes, and restores the dead child to life. The 
 spectators roll away the stone from the mouth of the 
 sepulchre ; that is as far as human devotion and 
 power can go in the overcoming of death : — 
 
 "They to the verge have followed what they love, 
 And on the insuperable threshold stand, 
 With cherished names its speechless calm reprove, 
 And stretch in the abyss their ungrasped hand." 
 
 And on this utmost vantage-ground of human effort 
 Jesus takes His stand, and raises the dead Lazarus to 
 life. 
 
 We misunderstand the significance of the words, 
 " Take ye away the stone," if we imagine them simply 
 to be a request made by Jesus to the spectators to do 
 what they could easily do — relegating to them a duty 
 for which His own Divine power was not necessary, 
 and which it was of no consequence whether they or 
 He performed it. The act implied far more than 
 that. The rolling away of the stone by the bystanders 
 was as essential a part of the miracle as the loud 
 voice of Jesus that broke the stillness of death. With- 
 out the one the other could not have been effectual. 
 And how instructive, in this light, is this feature in the 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 285 
 
 miracle, which we are apt to overlook as a mere trifle ! 
 Does it not emphatically teach us that, " in both tem- 
 poral and spiritual things, we should not so throw 
 ourselves upon the providence or grace of God as to 
 neglect the part we have ourselves to act?" If we 
 are at all in earnest, we cannot but feel that, in every 
 work to which we are called, there is much that we 
 ourselves have to do ; and until we act our own part, 
 we cannot expect that God will accomplish and bless 
 the work. " Wherefore criest thou unto me?" said 
 God to Moses at the Red Sea ; " speak to the 
 children of Israel that they go forward." Instead 
 of standing still and idly crying to God for help, they 
 had something to do themselves. They had to move 
 on in the face of seeming impossibilities ■ and till they 
 did this their prayers and cries to heaven would avail 
 them nothing. Their being in that strait at all was 
 God's doing, for it was through that strait that the 
 path lay to the blessed freedom and enlargement of 
 the promised land. Not, therefore, until they marched 
 forward into the very midst of the sea was the mighty 
 miracle of deliverance wrought out for them. And if 
 we, too, when we come to a crisis in our life, fold our 
 hands in despair, or wait supinely for help, or cry aloud 
 to God in idle distress, neglecting the way of escape 
 which lies before us, we shall never overcome the 
 
286 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 difficulty, or rise superior to the trial. It would be 
 well for us to remember at all times that God works 
 by means, and that our own efforts are the very 
 means through which He grants to us an answer to 
 our prayers ; that the method in which the Divine 
 influence is exerted on man and for man is more 
 dynamical than mechanical, a vivifying and animating 
 process, heightening and deepening and widening the 
 natural energies and capacities. All the interpositions 
 of Divine providence in our daily life, instead of 
 dispensing with human effort, crown that effort with 
 a blessing which it could not itself work out. Help 
 yourself, not, as it has been well said, and God shall 
 help you — He shall meet you half-way — but, because 
 He has helped you and is helping you. His own 
 finished work is the fulcrum upon which your work 
 rests, and the lever by which it is carried on. Work 
 out your own salvation, because He is working in you 
 both to will and to do of His good pleasure. There 
 is no condition whatever prescribed, but your working 
 is a proof that God is helping you, and is a carrying 
 out of the aid of God. 
 
 But there is a further idea still implied in the com- 
 mand of Christ to the spectators to remove the stone 
 from the grave. That action was a trial or test of 
 their faith. Faith must prove itself by corresponding 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 287 
 
 work, else it is dead. Faith was required as a pre- 
 requisite of all those who were the subjects or got the 
 benefit of Christ's miracles— " Believest thou that I 
 can do this?" — and the reality and degree of the faith 
 had to be shown by some characteristic and significant 
 outward action. It was required of the servants at 
 Cana to fill the water-pots with water, and to draw out 
 and bear to the governor of the feast. The sen-ants 
 might have objected that this was a foolish procedure; 
 that no result could possibly follow the mere trans- 
 ference of water from one vessel to another. Their 
 compliance with the order was therefore a proof of 
 their confidence that Jesus would not set them upon 
 a task which was a mere mockery in itself, and of their 
 faith that some extraordinary result would follow from 
 such an extraordinary procedure. The disciples were 
 commanded to give the multitude to eat; and they 
 might have objected, as in point of fact they did 
 object, to distribute the five loaves and few small 
 fishes among so many thousands — " What are these 
 among so many ? " It might seem to them an absurd 
 and childish thing to attempt to feed so great a crowd 
 by means so out of all proportion inadequate. And 
 yet the very absurdity of the procedure, the dispropor- 
 tion between the means and the end, was meant to be 
 the trial of their faith. It was required of the by- 
 
288 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 standers to take away the stone from Lazarus' tomb. 
 This might seem a superfluous and altogether futile 
 proceeding, and Martha interposed to prevent the 
 sacrilegious exposure of the dead — to save Jesus and 
 herself and friends from a spectacle which she sup- 
 posed could not fail to prove trying and revolting, 
 especially as it was now too late to do any good by 
 it — " Lord, by this time he stinketh, for he hath been 
 dead four days." And yet Jesus put her to the test — 
 " Said I not unto thee, that if thou wouldest believe 
 thou shouldest see the glory of God." Without the 
 faith of the sisters and the bystanders He could not 
 perform the miracle. He could not, we are told, do 
 many mighty works in Galilee, on one occasion, be- 
 cause of the unbelief of His countrymen; and now He 
 could not raise the dead Lazarus to life without some 
 measure of faith in His resurrection-power, on the 
 part of the living friends. For faith makes in the 
 soul of man the crooked places straight and the 
 rough places smooth, and thus prepares the way 
 of the Lord for His wonder-working. It is the 
 " miracle within" which overcomes all the obstacles 
 in the soul itself, and thus leads to the performance of 
 the miracle without which overcomes all the obstacles 
 in nature, and renders all things possible to him 
 that believeth. And the outward proof of that 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 289 
 
 faith was the rolling away of the stone from the 
 sepulchre. 
 
 It will be observed, in all the miracles I have speci- 
 fied, that the chief difficulty of faith lay in the employ- 
 ment of human means — in the employment of the 
 help of man. Had these been discarded, the miracles 
 would have been simpler and easier of comprehen- 
 sion. Had the miracles been wrought immediately by 
 Christ, without any human intervention, " they would 
 have been considered as mere acts of the sovereign 
 will of God ; and in that case all reasoning would have 
 been suspended, and the mind would at once have re- 
 posed upon the boundless resources of Almighty power; 
 all things would have been deemed possible with God. 
 But when second causes and human instruments were 
 employed, then it was fully level to the capacities of 
 those concerned to see that these were unsuitable and 
 incompetent to produce the results proposed." Had 
 Christ engaged to raise Lazarus from the dead as the 
 direct effect of His own omnipotence, of the power 
 of God working in and by Him, then a simple re- 
 liance upon the truth and ability of Him who promised 
 would have silenced every doubt. Martha would in 
 all probability have believed that He could do this, 
 for did she not say, " But I know that even now 
 whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it 
 
 T 
 
290 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 thee." But when He took the roundabout way of 
 employing human help, and asking the friends around 
 the tomb to remove the stone, He brought in a 
 questionable element, and interposed means altogether 
 inadequate to produce such a result. Undoubtedly a 
 far more submissive obedience of faith was called for 
 by the circumstance that Jesus was guided to the 
 tomb by the Jews, and that He ordered them to. re- 
 move the stone from before it, than if He had simply 
 and at once commanded Lazarus in the name of God 
 to rise from the dead. 
 
 And as with the miracles of Jesus, so with all God's 
 dealings with us still. The difficulty of faith always 
 lies in the employment of means that seem dispro- 
 portionate to the ends. It is part and parcel of the 
 whole system of the Christian religion. It apper- 
 tained to the Founder of it Himself, who gave offence 
 to His countrymen because of the incongruity between 
 the greatness of His pretensions and the humbleness 
 of His origin, between the mighty powers which He 
 possessed and the weakness and ordinary appearance 
 of His person and associations — " Is not this the car- 
 penter, the son of Joseph and Mary?" If God should 
 make bare His arm and accomplish some great wonder 
 immediately, we should have no difficulty in admitting 
 the fact and believing in the result, for we know that 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 291 
 
 God can do anything; but if He employs some round- 
 about agency of ordinary laws and common opera- 
 tions, we stumble at these instrumentalities, and refuse 
 to recognise the Divine Hand in the result at all. 
 If He answered our prayer directly from heaven, we 
 should be less perplexed than when He answers us, 
 as it is, by the ordinary experiences of human life. 
 The great stumbling-block which modern science is 
 putting in the way of religious faith is its doctrine of 
 uniformitarianism, which is proving to us more and 
 more that God works by natural ordinary means, and 
 according to a uniform consistent method. But it is 
 necessary that these secondary causes and instruments 
 should be interposed, in order to try our faith and test 
 our spiritual discernment; to see if we can look beyond 
 the natural to the supernatural, and trace the finger 
 of God even in the ordinary events which befall us, 
 and in the weak and foolish things of life by which 
 He works His gracious will. 
 
 The saying, " Lord, by this time he stinketh, for he 
 hath been dead four days," is very appropriately put 
 into the mouth of Martha. It is characteristic of her 
 outspokenness and officiousness. Dr. Plumptre has 
 said that we judge wrongly of her, if we see in her words 
 the utterance of an impatient or desponding unbelief; 
 that they show, on the contrary, how deeply she had 
 
292 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 penetrated into the meaning of Christ's words about 
 "resurrection and life;" that she was so comforted 
 by the thought of the true spiritual victory over death, 
 to which Christ referred, that she no longer expected 
 that the power of the eternal life would show itself in 
 the renewal of the earthly. But we can hardly give 
 her credit for so great a stretch of advancement in the 
 Divine life at this stage. She, no doubt, declared her 
 belief in Jesus as the Son of God who should come 
 into the world; but the value of that confession of 
 faith is somewhat qualified, when we reflect that all 
 her questions and answers to Jesus show a readiness 
 and unembarrassed vigour, which we do not usually 
 find associated with a profound intelligence and a 
 thoughtful, spiritual disposition. We are shut up to 
 the conclusion indeed that, like Thomas, despondency 
 had assumed the predominance in her soul over the 
 hope that had been partially aroused. Though she 
 had heard from Jesus' lips the wondrous words, " I 
 am the resurrection and the life," yet she believed not 
 that there could be a remedy for one who had already 
 seen corruption. Jesus might have prevented death, 
 or raised to life when life had just fled; but the 
 decomposition of the grave would defy even His 
 power. It was a moment of unbelief, when the bright 
 blue space of heaven cleared in her soul, was again 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 293 
 
 covered over with dark drifting clouds of doubt and 
 fear. And her words are the saddest of all human 
 words, as disclosing the humiliating and shameful 
 process through which the beautiful and beloved form 
 is taken down in the kindly darkness and secrecy of 
 its mother earth — in order to be made up again in 
 honour and glory, eternal in the heavens. 
 
 We are not, however, to take the words of Martha 
 as descriptive of a real fact, but as expressive of her 
 own conjecture, drawn from the natural order of 
 things, and the length of time that her brother had 
 lain in the grave. There is nothing in the narrative to 
 lead us to take for granted that corruption had taken 
 place in the dead body ; and although decomposition 
 goes on in a hot country with great rapidity, necessi- 
 tating almost immediate burial, yet we must not over- 
 look the retarding effect of the low temperature of 
 the cave in which Lazarus was interred, which was 
 doubtless very much cooler and drier than the air 
 outside. We have also incidental proof that the 
 death of Lazarus must have taken place in winter, in 
 the month of December, when the climate, of course, 
 is much colder ; and the great elevation of Bethany 
 above the level of the sea must have further refriger- 
 ated the air. A body in such a place of sepulture, at 
 such an elevation, and in such a season, might well 
 
294 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 have remained unchanged for even a longer period 
 than four days. Indeed the nature of the miracle, as 
 Trench has well pointed out, requires that we should 
 come to such a conclusion \ for it would be giving 
 it a monstrous character, altogether foreign to that 
 which belongs to all the other miracles of Christ, to 
 suppose that He resuscitated the already decomposed 
 body of Lazarus. It would involve a designed 
 augmentation of the miracle which the expositor must 
 guard against ; for Jesus, as I have already said, 
 invariably diminished, instead of exaggerated, His 
 works. It is far simpler to suppose, with Olshausen, 
 that by natural means — which, as we have seen, were 
 quite sufficient, and cases frequently occur in which 
 decomposition does not commence until very late — 
 the body of Lazarus, just because it was to be re- 
 animated, was, according to the providence of God, 
 preserved from corruption. And we must regard it as 
 a part of the same providential care that the body 
 was not embalmed, according to the custom of the 
 richer Jews, although the sisters had spikenard, at 
 least, in the house. 
 
 We must not overlook the touching allusion to 
 Martha as " the sister of him that was dead," although 
 it was not necessary for the sake of distinction so to 
 name her. When the Shunammite urged her suit 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 295 
 
 before Elisha, for the restoration of her greatest 
 earthly treasure, with a beautiful propriety she is 
 spoken of as " the mother of the child." Here, 
 too, with equally beautiful propriety, Martha is called 
 "the sister of him that was dead." Who of all 
 the crowd around but the loving sister of the dead 
 would be afraid that, at the sight of what the tomb 
 might disclose, the image of him which she carried 
 in her heart might be ruined? Who would shrink 
 like her from making the beloved form a spectacle 
 of horror to strangers, seeing that she herself, who 
 cherished it most, was fain to bury it out of sight? 
 Who but a sister would keep Jesus from looking 
 once more on the countenance of the beloved ; for 
 she interpreted His command to remove the stone 
 as nothing more than the first step towards the gratifi- 
 cation of such a desire ? 
 
 But, although Martha had let go for a moment her 
 faith in the " Resurrection and the Life," and drifted 
 back into the hopelessness of death, Jesus had not let 
 go His hold of her. In the alternate ebb and flow of 
 her faith, His everlasting arms were underneath her. 
 He checked her unbelief, but it was with wonderful 
 tenderness and gentleness. " Did I not tell thee, that 
 if thou wouldest only believe, thou shouldest see the 
 don' of God." He brought to her recollection the 
 
296 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 words which He addressed to the messenger sent to 
 Him beyond Jordan, in the crisis of her brother's 
 fever — "This sickness is not unto death, but for the 
 glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified 
 thereby." He reminded her of His conversation 
 with her when she met Him on His return, regarding 
 the power of faith to appropriate the plenitude of 
 the blessings that dwelt in Himself. He bore with 
 meekness her expression of hopelessness, as He 
 bore with her upbraiding when she could not 
 understand why He had not come at once to her 
 help. He who wept with her, pitied her weakness 
 and ignorance, and condescended to them with all the 
 sympathy and help which they required. He would 
 not break the bruised reed, nor quench the smoking 
 flax, until He had sent forth judgment unto victory. 
 He would come down like rain upon the mown grass 
 upon her broken hopes and blighted affections, and 
 help her to grow again, from the relics of her happi- 
 ness, a fruitful faith and an unshaken trust. Some 
 natures — and Martha's was one of them — can only 
 come to rest through trouble, to light through sha- 
 dows, to faith through doubt. If she could only 
 believe — if she had faith even as a grain of mustard- 
 seed — mountains of difficulty would be removed 
 before her, and seeming impossibilities converted into 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 297 
 
 accomplished facts. She couid stretch a hand through 
 death and grasp the blessed reality beyond \ and the 
 portal of the tomb would be to her but the gate 
 of heaven. If thou wouldest only believe — if thou 
 hadest, as some one has remarked, but even a bare 
 root of faith, stripped of its foliage, striking down 
 into thy soul with a firm grasp in the winter and 
 the darkness — then the absent bloom and fruit 
 would soon appear, and the summer of full un- 
 folding and the morning of bright disclosure would 
 soon come. Thou shouldest see through the gloom 
 the glory, and through the death the life. And 
 as He dealt with Martha in her faithlessness and 
 weakness, so He deals with us. He is no aus- 
 tere man, reaping where he had not sowed, and 
 gathering where he had not strawed. He conde- 
 scends to our infirmities; He checks our unbelief 
 with tenderness and pity, knowing the shortness of 
 our vision and the frailty of our frame. He bears 
 with unwearied patience and gentleness all our ques- 
 tionings and petulances, all our doubts and fears. 
 He brings to our remembrance, for our comfort and 
 encouragement, all that He said and did to us in the 
 years of the right hand of the Most High. If we 
 could only believe in Him, and take Him simply and 
 confidingly at His word, we should be saved from all 
 
298 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 our fears and troubles; the difficulties of life would 
 vanish before us; we should find the way to good 
 through evil ; and life, which is the heir of death, 
 would become its conqueror, smiling at its impotence, 
 and making the grave its cradle. Faith is the all- 
 conquering principle. It is by the exercise of faith 
 that we carry on the business of life; and, glorified 
 by being associated with Divine and eternal things, 
 it is the victory that overcomes the world. And in 
 the end, however painful the trial and long-deferred 
 the result, the grandest triumph and the greatest glory 
 fall to those who have the greatest faith. 
 
 The weeping and groaning, by which even the 
 Saviour's own heart had been wrung, is hushed. The 
 spiritual obstacle of Martha's unbelief is removed ; 
 the physical obstacle of the stone is rolled away from 
 the mouth of the sepulchre by human hands, and the 
 yawning gloom within revealed in all its suggestive 
 dreadfulness. And now nothing stands between the 
 living and the dead. Man has done all that he could 
 towards the remedying of death ; he has opened the 
 door of the tomb, taken away every spiritual interven- 
 tion in himself and every physical intervention in sur- 
 rounding circumstances, and thus prepared the way of 
 the Lord. And now the Lord of life interferes to do 
 what man cannot do — to restore the dead to life. His 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 299 
 
 disciples, the sisters, and the Jews who had come to 
 comfort them, are pressing behind Him, a solemn 
 and awe-struck group. The huge cathedral of St. 
 Paul's in London is used by the peasants of Dorking 
 as a weather glass, for it is never seen from that 
 distance except in the clear light that precedes a 
 shower of rain. And so a spectator, beholding afar-off 
 this group of persons around a tomb, would have sup- 
 posed that they had simply come to repair the grave, 
 or to pay some necessary tribute of affection to the 
 dead. The sublimest event that ever took place in 
 the history of the world up to that time, would have 
 been dwarfed at a little distance to a mere customary 
 visit to a tomb. For a moment the group of friends 
 stand silent and waiting. Then, with holy face up- 
 lifted from the dark receptacle of death before Him 
 to the bright blue living heavens above, and lit by the 
 sunshine which he Himself had made, Jesus addresses 
 His thanksgiving prayer to His Father in a voice 
 audible to the whole assemblage. He does not ask 
 that His desire may be granted, but He gives thanks 
 that it is granted — " Father, I thank thee that thou 
 hast heard me \ and I know that thou hearest me 
 always ; but because of the people that stand by I 
 said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me." 
 We are not to suppose that the reference here is to 
 
3 oo THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 any special prayer which Jesus uttered aloud on a 
 previous occasion. Jesus conceived in His own 
 spirit at the moment a wish to raise Lazarus from 
 the dead; and, in the formation of that wish, He 
 regarded the work as already accomplished by His 
 Father. He did not pray in the sense in which 
 we pray; He did not ask as we ask; for, being 
 always in the bosom of the Father, even on earth, 
 there was a constant uninterrupted communication 
 of power and blessing from the one to the other, 
 so that what He saw the Father do He was able to 
 do also. And when He thanks God that He had 
 heard His prayer, this cannot imply that there was a 
 possibility of His prayer not being heard and granted. 
 The prayer of Christ and the answer of God were 
 inseparable ; they were one and the same, for He 
 Himself says, " I and the Father are one." He did 
 not require to ask for special power to work this 
 miracle ; He was able to raise Lazarus from the grave 
 by the continuous uninterrupted power which He pos- 
 sessed as dwelling in God and God in Him. 
 
 It has been considered strange that Jesus uttered 
 this declaration in the presence of the assembly. 
 Strauss cavils at it as usual, and looks upon it as a 
 piece of affectation, as meant merely for show. But 
 surely it was necessary that the deed which He was 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 301 
 
 about to do should be cleared from all ambiguities 
 and false suppositions, and be unmistakeably con- 
 nected with heaven — that the people should know 
 that Jesus claimed His power from above. Jesus 
 explained on a subsequent occasion, when an audible 
 voice came from heaven in answer to His Father 
 — " Father, glorify thy name," " I have both glori- 
 fied it and will glorify it again" — that the voice 
 came not because of Him, but for the sake of the 
 multitude. He needed not this voice of God for the 
 confirmation of His own faith, as a testimony to His 
 Divine rank • it was entirely for the benefit of the by- 
 standers. And so Jesus uttered His thanksgiving 
 prayer in the hearing of the people around Him on 
 this occasion, not for His own sake, but that they 
 might know the intimate and inseparable communion 
 between the Father and the Son. And although 
 Jesus did not obtain His power to call Lazarus from 
 the grave by means of prayer, still, by connecting the 
 miracle with prayer to God, He gives to us the highest 
 possible testimony to the importance and efficacy of 
 prayer. He who has learned that lesson from Him 
 who alone can teach it, through whom alone can 
 prayer be offered, and who Himself lived a life of 
 prayer, has laid his hand on that " golden key which 
 opens the palace of eternity." 
 
3 02 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 Although Jesus wrought as the equal of God in 
 the wonderful work, we have, nevertheless, a wonder- 
 ful blending in it of subjection and authority, of 
 obedience and command, of the lowly servant and 
 the great " I am." He who cried with a voice of 
 almighty power, " Lazarus, come forth," audibly ex- 
 pressed His dependence upon God. In the highest 
 displays of His Divine power, Jesus humbled Him- 
 self and became obedient \ He was made under 
 the law of God; He manifested Himself as the 
 perfect Son, living in dependence upon the Father. 
 And it is because of this that we have such contrasts 
 and apparent contradictions, otherwise so inexplicable, 
 between the lowly self-sacrificing nature of Jesus, and 
 the wonderful claims He puts forth for Himself. The 
 thanksgiving prayer of Jesus before raising Lazarus 
 is of a piece with the thanksgiving prayer which He 
 uttered before the miracle of the loaves and fishes. 
 In both cases He did not wish the spectators to 
 suppose that He was making an arbitrary use of His 
 supernatural power ; on the contrary, He wished 
 them to know that He was acting, under the Father, 
 in obedience to laws which regulated the common 
 affairs of human life. The raising of Lazarus was 
 no more an irregular wonder than the feeding of 
 the multitude. Both fell in by a natural harmony 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 303 
 
 with the ordinary ways of Divine dealing ; and there- 
 fore they bear a gracious and useful testimony to 
 what Jesus was, and what He came to declare and 
 do. Both miracles were wrought under solemn and 
 orderly arrangements. Jesus prays, and becomes 
 subject to law, in order that He may act as God, 
 and manifest His divine power by a miracle. He 
 stoops to conquer; He serves that He may rule; 
 He obeys that He may triumph. And when we see 
 in His mightiest acts this wonderful commingling of 
 human dependence and Divine independence — this 
 unity with the Father, and this association with our- 
 selves — we are filled with a joyful feeling, for we 
 realise " that mystery where God-in-man is one with 
 man-in-God." The Son of God and Son of Man — 
 one with the Father in heaven, one with man upon 
 the earth — proves Himself to be the true Mediator — 
 the living bond between heaven and earth — linking 
 our weakness with the Almighty power, and our mor- 
 tality with His eternal life. 
 
 Some of the early Fathers of the church supposed 
 that the thanksgiving prayer of Jesus records the ac- 
 tual accomplishment of the miracle ; that the moment 
 of awakening was earlier; and that the loud call 
 addressed to the dead only effected the coming forth 
 of him who had already been restored to life. But 
 
304 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 this explanation would rob the act of Jesus of its 
 profound meaning. The loud voice was not a mere 
 accessary or subordinate feature in the miracle \ it was 
 a primary essential element. It was by the quicken- 
 ing power of that loud voice that life returned to the 
 corpse. Jesus acted here in perfect harmony with 
 the Divine order, which ever attributes to the voice of 
 the Son of God the power of quickening the dead and 
 raising them from their graves. Thus St. John says, 
 " The hour is coming, in the which all that are in the 
 graves shall hear His voice, and shall come forth." 
 And the loudness of the voice on this occasion is 
 equally significant. It was not by a mere internal 
 prayer, by the mere formation and expression of a 
 wish, by any exercise of arbitrary will, that the mighty 
 miracle was accomplished; it was by strenuous per- 
 sonal effort, by strong crying and tears. It was not 
 necessary for Christ to summon the tenant of the 
 tomb by such an exertion, so far as His Divine power 
 was concerned. As God, a whisper, a breath, the 
 slightest expression of His will, would have sufficed 
 to break the bands of death. But, in relation to His 
 redemptive work, the loud voice is full of precious 
 meaning. As the Saviour of a world lying under 
 the curse, He could not raise the dead to life by a 
 mere volition costing Him nothing. He had to ex- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 305 
 
 pend strength and toil and sorrow proportioned to 
 the difficulty and magnitude of the work. When He 
 raised the daughter of Jairus, who was newly dead, 
 in whose corpse the flickerings of life, as it were, still 
 lingered, just as lingers the last little flame around 
 a brand taken out of a fire, hovering in the air a 
 moment, retreating and then returning to the wood, 
 before it goes out finally — He said, in a low, gentle 
 voice, " Maid, I say unto thee, arise." Less exertion 
 was needed in this case to recall the spirit, for she 
 was but barely in the grasp of the enemy. When He 
 raised the widow of Xain's son, He pitched His voice 
 in a higher key, "Young man, I say unto thee, arise" — 
 for the body was longer dead; it was cold, and carried 
 out to the tomb ; and therefore more strength had to 
 to be put forth to rescue the prey from the mighty. 
 But Lazarus was four days in the grave, was com- 
 pletely under the dominion of the destroyer; and 
 therefore it was needed that Christ should cry with 
 a loud voice, " Lazarus come forth." 
 
 The loud voice was also necessary to convince the 
 spectators of the reality of the Divine agency in the 
 miracle. Without that voice they might have doubted 
 whether Christ had anything to do with the marvellous 
 restoration. His presence there, and the coming forth 
 of Lazarus from the tomb, might have been regarded 
 u 
 
306 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 as an extraordinary coincidence ; but their relation as 
 cause and effect could have been shown in no other 
 way so satisfactorily as by calling on the dead by 
 name to come forth. This loud voice points back 
 to the Almighty fiat, " Let there be light, and there 
 was light," that called a living world full of order 
 and beauty out of a chaos of death and darkness ; 
 and it points forward to the loud voice that will 
 call the dead from their graves on the last day, and 
 accomplish a grander work in the resurrection than 
 in the original creation. The miracle of Bethany 
 was a type and an anticipation of the general resur- 
 rection, and corresponds to it in all its features and 
 details. By the loud voice, therefore, at the grave of 
 Lazarus, we are reminded that the Lord Himself shall 
 descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of 
 an archangel and the trump of God, and the dead in 
 Christ shall rise first. The ear, the counterpart of the 
 voice, is, as Dr. George Wilson has well said, the 
 most human of all our organs. It is by it that we 
 hold most intimate and endearing communion with 
 our fellow-creatures, and most powerfully impress and 
 influence each other. It is the sense of hearing 
 which most readily and most effectually lends itself to 
 emotional feeling ; and that which reaches us through 
 the ear stirs the soul more deeply than what meets 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 307 
 
 our eye. It is to the ear that the summons to awake 
 to spiritual life is now addressed; and the summons 
 hereafter to awake to eternal life will also be addressed 
 to the ear, and it shall be the first of all the senses to 
 awake to a consciousness of a new existence beyond 
 the grave. The infant enters this life with a cry, and 
 its sorrow is soothed by its mother's voice ; we shall 
 enter into the life to come with the sound of the 
 Redeemer's voice in our ear, comforting us as one 
 whom his mother comforts, and hushing to everlasting 
 rest all the sorrows of earth. Surely the honour which 
 God has put upon the ear of man above all the other 
 senses should invest the preaching of the Gospel — the 
 Divinely-appointed means by which we are prepared 
 for time and eternity — in this the day of our merciful 
 visitation, with greater interest and importance; should 
 impress upon our minds with more emphasis and 
 solemnity the great moral admonition contained in 
 the words, " He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." 
 May we all incline our ears now and hear the still 
 small voice of Divine love, that our souls may live ; 
 and in the last great day we shall hear the loud voice of 
 the Son of Man saying, " Awake and sing ye that dwell 
 in dust : for thy dew is as the dew of herbs, and the 
 earth shall cast out the dead," and we shall join in the 
 new song of praise of the risen saints, more wonderful 
 
/ 
 
 3 o8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 than the chorus of creation, when " the morning 
 stars sang together and the sons of God shouted 
 for joy." 
 
 He whom Jesus addressed in the loud voice was no 
 longer living, but dead. He had passed out of the 
 corporate life of mankind to join the dead system 
 of nature, like an effete worn-out particle that is elimi- 
 nated from the human frame when it has served its 
 purpose, and goes into the atmosphere or the earth to 
 form part of other things. And yet our Saviour's words 
 show to us that it is not so. That dead Lazarus 
 within the tomb is not a thing, but a person. He has 
 not become a part of the dead inert universe ; he is 
 still in the communion of life, in the membership of 
 the human race. The tie that binds him to the family 
 of mankind is not broken. He is living in Christ, in 
 Him who only hath life, in whom all mankind live 
 and move and have their being, who is the life of the 
 universe, and from whose life our life is but a feeble 
 spark which would go out if separated from Him, 
 as a portion of a flame on a log would go out if 
 separated from the fire that kindled and feeds it. In 
 Him Lazarus is already risen from the dead, is already 
 most truly alive; and the miracle which He works 
 is but the mere outward proof of this great truth. 
 Lazarus is raised from the dead before the eyes of 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 309 
 
 men, because in Christ he is already raised from the 
 dead. His life can be restored, because in Christ it 
 is hid. Just as our Saviour lifted up the veil in the 
 miracles of Capernaum and Cana, to show to us who 
 it is that is constantly multiplying our bread in the 
 harvest field and constantly changing water into wine 
 in the vineyard, so in the miracle of Bethany He lifts 
 the veil from death to show to us the enduring life 
 that is in it — to show to us that nothing can break 
 the communion of saints with Christ and with one 
 another in Him. 
 
 And how much of precious truth is involved in our 
 Saviour calling Lazarus by the name he bore while 
 living ! It is in entire harmony with the intimate and 
 endearing relationship which subsisted between them, 
 that Jesus should now have named the name of His 
 friend. The subjects of the other two miracles of 
 restoration, the daughter of J aims and the widow of 
 Nain's son, were strangers to Him. He had no as- 
 sociations of tenderness connected with them. Per- 
 haps in the limitation of His human nature He 
 did not know their names ; for He met them on the 
 occasion of the miracle for the first time, and no 
 inquiry, so far as we know, was made regarding their 
 name. And therefore when He stands by the bed- 
 side of the one He says, " Maid, I say unto thee, 
 
3 io THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD, [chap. 
 
 arise," and by the bier of the other He says, " Young 
 man, I say unto thee, arise." He does not call them 
 by name ; He works the miracle in an impersonal way. 
 But Lazarus was His own familiar friend, and there- 
 fore He calls him by the dear old household name 
 which had often in former days been upon His lips 
 and in His mind; and by so doing He teaches us 
 not only that His love reaches out beyond death, but 
 also that in death the object of His love retains the 
 old identity. Lazarus is still all that Lazarus was; 
 all that is involved in the name of Lazarus belongs to 
 him now, though lying in the grave, as truly and fully 
 as when he lived. Death has no power to destroy 
 or alter human nature. It cannot annihilate a single 
 human faculty or function. It can obliterate no 
 memory; it can weaken no affection in any human 
 being whose nature Christ has taken. All that is 
 best and truest survives unimpaired the act of dis- 
 solution. Jesus at the tomb of His friend called 
 Lazarus by the same name which he bore in life. On 
 the throne of heaven Jesus called one whose ashes 
 had been scattered to the winds, and whose spirit 
 was in the intermediate world, " Antipas, my faithful 
 martyr." The names which God's children bear on 
 earth are written in the Lamb's book of life; they are 
 engraved upon the palms of God's hands, and shall 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 311 
 
 be theirs in the heavenly home for ever. And He 
 who said to the sorrowing sisters, " Your brother shall 
 rise again," assures us that, not a stranger spirit, shall 
 rise at the last day, but our own brother, with the 
 same lineaments, the same affections, yea the same 
 endeared name as of old. And how comforting is 
 such an assurance ! We have an instinctive convic- 
 tion in our own hearts that our friends who have gone 
 from us still retain their individuality, and all those 
 characteristics of their nature which endeared them 
 to us on earth • but oh ! how precious it is to be 
 expressly told, by Him who is the Resurrection and 
 the Life, and who called the dead Lazarus by the 
 familiar name which he bore in life, that our instinct 
 does not deceive us. 
 
 " Love 's too precious to be lost, 
 A little grain shall not be spilt." 
 
 But from whence was Lazarus called forth? His 
 body was in the tomb ; but where was his spirit, his 
 true self? Manifestly, in that spiritual world of which 
 our spirits are the inhabitants even now, and of which 
 this world of sense and sight is the mere shadow — the 
 dial showing the unseen movements behind. We pass 
 out of the vain show — out of the appearances in the 
 midst of which we live — into a world of realities, just 
 
3 i2 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 as we descend out of a moorland mist, where every- 
 thing is vague and distorted and colourless, into a 
 valley whose scenery is brightly illuminated, and all 
 whose features stand out prominently and in their true 
 colours in the sunshine. The scales fall from off our 
 eyes, and the mist is lifted up, and we behold the in- 
 visible things of God that were faintly revealed to us 
 by the objects amid which our earthly life was spent. 
 We behold the brighter scenes of which those on earth 
 are but the draught or copy; the sea of glass, the 
 river of life, the sun that shall no more go down, 
 the trees of life whose leaves shall never fade, and 
 that yield their fruit every month, of which our 
 earthly rivers, and sun, and sea, and trees are as 
 the reflection of a summer landscape in the smooth 
 mirror of a lake, compared with the real objects. 
 Life, like a veil, conceals from us those spiritual 
 realities, just as daylight conceals from us the moon 
 and stars. But death, like darkness, introduces 
 us to them. We are surrounded by the stars in the 
 daytime, but we see them not. The very light of the 
 sun acts as a veil to hide them from us. But when 
 the shades of evening fall, without changing our stand- 
 ing place, we see ourselves in the midst of infinite 
 worlds of amazing grandeur. So the great realities of 
 heaven are around us in life, but the veil of our earthly 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 313 
 
 tabernacle conceals them from our view. But when 
 the darkness of death comes down upon our eyes — 
 when the veil of flesh is rent — then, indeed, without 
 changing our spot, we are conscious of the world of 
 spirits, we are alive to the glories of the unseen and 
 eternal state. And of this intermediate state — the 
 state of separation between soul and body — Jesus has 
 the key. He Himself went down into this mysterious 
 realm, and returned from it a conqueror, having won 
 the power to open it for us. The ancients believed 
 that the intermediate state was under the sole sway of 
 Pluto, the rival of Jupiter; so that while the upper world 
 basked in the sunshine of life, the lower world was 
 withdrawn from all cheering influences and wrapped in 
 eternal gloom. It was a world of shadows inhabited 
 by shades. But to the Christian there are no rival 
 powers in the universe. One Lord forms the light and 
 creates darkness, and reigns in both worlds and in the 
 passage between. The dark depths of Hades are as 
 much open to His eye and subject to His control as 
 the habitations of men on earth ; and to pass into the 
 silent land of death is but to pass from one room to 
 another of the Fathers many mansions — 
 
 " Death is another life. We bow our heads 
 At going out, we think, and enter straight 
 Another golden chamber of the King's 
 Larger than this, and lovelier." 
 
3 1 4 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 The loud voice of Jesus awakes an echo in the 
 spiritual world, as well as in the reverberating dark- 
 ness of the tomb. For a moment all is still ; for a 
 moment the spectators wait; and then they hear a 
 sound within the cave. Their eyes are fixed upon the 
 low doorway in awe and fear. And now the Evan- 
 gelist records the sublimest event ever witnessed by 
 human eyes, which must have left an indelible im- 
 pression upon his mind. He writes as if the whole 
 scene were visible to him; as if he were living over 
 again all the incidents of the wonderful hour. A 
 strange figure, muffled from head to foot, appears in 
 the opening of the tomb. The dead man in his grave 
 clothes stands before them, in the fresh open air, 
 under the blue sky, restored to the fellowship of the 
 living world. Is it a dream of the imagination, a 
 delusion of the senses, excited by expectation and 
 hope? Will it melt away like a frosty figure on a 
 window-pane before the increasing sunshine, and leave 
 the place emptier than before? Will it sink back 
 again into the tomb, like the fabled Eurydice, when 
 her husband, Orpheus, bearing her away in his arms 
 from the Infernal Regions to the upper world, looks 
 round with irresistible yearning to catch one glimpse 
 of her beloved face, and loses her for ever? No ! It 
 is no phantom which Jesus raises, like the ghost of 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 315 
 
 Samuel which the witch of Endor summoned from the 
 dead to meet the doomed and despairing king of 
 Israel. It is no vain spectre walking the paths of 
 upper air to hold a brief interview with the sorrowing 
 sisters, and then to vanish, as Protesilaus in Words- 
 worth's sublime poem was allowed for a few hours to 
 appear to his wife Laodamia, in answer to her pas- 
 sionate supplications, eluding her grasp while she 
 tried to embrace him, and chilling her heart by his 
 calm superiority to all their former earthly love. 
 It is Lazarus himself in the flesh, with all his fa- 
 miliar features and warm human affections, to tarry 
 with his sisters, if tradition be true, for thirty years 
 longer. 
 
 Some have expressed astonishment that, while 
 bound hand and foot, he should, nevertheless, have 
 been able to obey the summons of Jesus, and come 
 forth to the light of day ; and they look upon this 
 as a miracle within the miracle. But there is no 
 need for exaggerating the wonder in this way. We 
 see the wise economy of miracles as strikingly dis- 
 played in the raising of Lazarus as in all the other 
 mighty works of our Lord. The Divine power is 
 employed only to accomplish what human power 
 cannot do, and works always on the basis of human 
 power. It was the custom among the Egyptians to 
 
3 i6 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 swathe separately each member of their mummies 
 with the cerements of the grave; and this fashion 
 was followed by the Jews, as by most of the Oriental 
 nations. Every limb of the corpse, and even every 
 finger of the hands, was wrapped round with its 
 own separate stripes of cloth ; and around the whole 
 body was thrown a loose and flowing garment. In 
 this way the action of the hands was hindered, but 
 not the motion of the limbs. Lazarus could not dis- 
 entangle himself from the grave clothes, but he could 
 come forth from the inner recess of the sepulchre to 
 the entrance. The face was veiled with the sudarium, 
 or the linen cloth, which was folded round the fore- 
 head and extended down to the breast. The unex- 
 pected appearance of such a figure must have greatly 
 startled the spectators ; but small time is left them to 
 express their astonishment. No sooner does the dead 
 step out into life than the voice of Jesus is again 
 heard breaking the awful stillness — " Loose him, and 
 let him go." Here again, as in the case of the 
 daughter of Jairus, when He commanded the parents 
 to give her meat, Jesus enters into the minutest details 
 of His astonishing act of power. He sees that His 
 friend is still encumbered with the relics of the grave j 
 and He waits not till others awake from their shock 
 of surprise to perceive the clothes that bind and 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 3! 7 
 
 trouble the risen one. With all the promptitude and 
 decision of love, He orders the spectators to release 
 him from those hindrances, that he may be at liberty 
 to rejoin his friends. ^ 
 
 And in this incident we have a proof of the per- 
 fection of the love of Jesus — that can enfold the 
 largest and the smallest things in its embrace, as the 
 horizon comprehends equally the lofty mountain and 
 the lowly wild-flower. It is this feature of the miracle 
 that, in an especial manner, brings Jesus home to 
 our hearts. The mighty power, of the loud voice 
 bursting open the gates of death awes and over- 
 whelms us, but the still small voice, full of tenderness 
 and human sympathy, commanding the friends to 
 loose Lazarus from the grave clothes and let him go, 
 binds us to Him with the bands of a man. And so it 
 is in all Christ's manifestations of Himself to us. 
 What touches the heart and quickens the pulses of 
 love is the contemplation, not of His grand displays 
 of power and glory, but of the humble details and 
 familiar scenes of His life — such as His taking up 
 children in His anus and blessing them, His suffering 
 the beloved disciple to lean upon His bosom, His 
 weeping at the grave of Lazarus. It is thus also in 
 the bounties of His natural providence. " His lesser 
 works are those which appeal most powerfully to our 
 
3 i8 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD, [chap. 
 
 hearts." The heavens declare His glory, and the 
 firmament showeth forth His handiwork; and these 
 produce upon us a profound impression of rever- 
 ential awe. But it is when we consider the grass 
 of the field, which shines in the glow of the sun 
 to-day and shrinks in the fire of the oven to-morrow, 
 and yet is adorned with more than the glory of 
 Solomon ; when we look down to the minute, homely 
 things of nature, which are little more than visible 
 to the naked eye — the moss on the tree, the lichen 
 on the rock, the weed in the water — and behold 
 the marvellous loveliness and tenderness of hue and 
 form with which they are decked, that we feel most 
 the attraction of His condescending love, and realise 
 that we have a Friend in heaven w r ho sympathises 
 with us in the very humblest of our experiences. 
 
 Christ's command to the spectators is also a proof 
 of the thoroughness of His work. Had He raised 
 Lazarus from the dead and left him bound by the 
 grave clothes, there would have been an element of im- 
 perfection in the miracle. But He never left anything 
 . that He undertook unfinished. What He began He 
 carried through to perfection. The impotent man, 
 whom He heals, He seeks out afterwards and restores - 
 to spiritual strength • the blind man, whose eyes He 
 opens, He finds and discloses to him, when prepared 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 319 
 
 for it, the wonderful revelation of His own Messiah- 
 ship \ the woman, whose inward trouble He cures by 
 the touch of His garment's hem, He visits through 
 open confession with the joy of His salvation ; and 
 here Lazarus, whom He frees from the power of death, 
 He frees also from all its trammels and symbols. And 
 in this respect each of His lesser works is a type of 
 His great work of redemption, regarding which He 
 said on the cross, crying with the same loud voice 
 as at Lazarus' tomb, " It is finished.'' And as He 
 perfected each of His miracles, and all His great 
 historical work on earth, so does He perfect spiritually 
 in each human soul that yields itself to Him that 
 which concerneth it. He will never forsake the work of 
 His hands. What He begins in us He will complete ; 
 and He who. is the Author will be the Finisher of our 
 faith. He gives us first life, then liberty; frees us 
 from all internal hindrances, that we may free our- 
 selves from all external. 
 
 But there is a deeper significance still in the com- 
 mand of Jesus to the spectators to loose Lazarus and 
 let him go. It indicates that human help was needed, 
 not only to prepare the way for the miracle, but also 
 to carry it out and complete it It was not enough 
 that man should lay the foundation for the work of 
 Christ, in rolling away the stone from the mouth of 
 
3 20 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 the tomb ; but he must also bring the cope-stone to 
 put upon the finished work of Christ, in loosing Lazarus 
 from the grave-clothes that bound and hampered him. 
 Human help must begin and carry to its very end 
 the help of God. Were it not for the purpose ot 
 teaching us this most important lesson, we do not see 
 any meaning in the command of Christ. It would 
 otherwise seem superfluous and ostentatious. To Him 
 who broke the bands of death, the loosing of the grave- 
 clothes would have involved no additional expendi- 
 ture of Divine power. He could by a wash, a word, 
 as easily have delivered Lazarus from the sepulchral 
 wrappings without any human aid, as He delivered 
 the three Hebrew confessors from the fetters that 
 bound them when they were thrown into the fiery 
 furnace, or rescued Peter from the chains that con- 
 fined- him in the innermost prison at Jerusalem. But 
 He. called in the assistance of the spectators to do 
 what His Divine power was not needed to do, and 
 what their human aid could well accomplish, to show 
 to us that it is by human help, from the beginning to 
 the end, that He carries on all His redemptive w r ork, 
 from its mightiest processes down to its humblest 
 details. And it is a lesson which, as I have already 
 said, we require very much to learn, and very specially 
 in the things that concern our everlasting peace. We 
 
III.] LAZARUS. 321 
 
 are apt to look at our deliverance as exclusively God's 
 work, and therefore to devolve all upon Him, while 
 we ourselves are altogether passive, standing still to 
 see the salvation of God. But, as the spectators 
 had to help Jesus, not only to roll away the stone 
 from the grave of the dead, but also to loose the 
 grave-clothes from the form of the living, so we 
 have to help God in carrying out and completing 
 to the very end, by our own efforts, the mighty miracle 
 of restoration from spiritual death to eternal life. 
 His redemption just consists in the restoration of 
 our human freedom, which sin had destroyed. We 
 can use specially regarding it Browning's beautiful 
 words : — 
 
 "God, whose pleasure brought 
 Man into being, stands away, 
 As it were, an hand-breadth off, to give 
 Room for the newly-made to live, 
 And look at him from a place apart, 
 And use his gifts of brain and heart." 
 
 We, too, give thanks, in the matter of our redemption, 
 like Jesus Himself, that God has heard our unconscious 
 moan in our state of sin and misery, and heaifa the 
 intercessory prayer of our Redeemer. And all that 
 we have now to do, in the Divine life of which we 
 are made partakers, is to roll away a stone from a 
 grave that has already lost its victim, and to loose 
 x 
 
322 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 the cerements of death from a life that has already 
 risen. This leaves, however, untouched the great 
 mystery underlying and overarching us everywhere, 
 " how the will of God can so withdraw from ours as 
 to leave us any action of our own, and how it can 
 mingle with ours without overwhelming it." 
 
 What a moment of astonishment and delight must 
 that have been to the sisters, as well as to the brother 
 himself, when the grave-clothes were all removed, and 
 the linen napkin taken away from the face, revealing 
 the well-known features, pale and solemn from the 
 shadows of the grave and the light of another world ? 
 St. John was there and saw it all, but a holy reticence 
 keeps him from describing the scene. The walk back 
 from the tomb to the village, the surprise and awe of 
 the neighbours, the wonder and gratitude of Mary, 
 Martha, and Lazarus, as they took up together again 
 the thread of the old familiar life that had been so 
 sadly broken and so wonderfully re-united, and adap- 
 ted themselves once more to the business and inter- 
 course of earth; these are things upon which our 
 imagination loves to linger, but in regard to which 
 the Evangelist holds a profound silence. We should 
 have liked to know what Lazarus had passed through 
 during his four days' sleep in the tomb. But that 
 secret the Bible will not disclose. Unlike the legends 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 323 
 
 and myths that record the imaginary adventures of 
 persons said to have returned from the unseen world, 
 the Bible resolutely and systematically refrains from 
 recording the experiences of those who have crossed 
 the fatal line and come back to light and life. But 
 men have not been content to leave inviolate this in- 
 scrutable mystery of the Bible; they have superadded 
 glosses of their own. There was a tradition very pre- 
 valent and widely believed in the early Christian 
 Church, that the first question which Lazarus asked 
 when he returned to life was, if he should die again : 
 and on being told that he was still subject to the 
 common doom of all men, he was never afterwards 
 seen to smile. But, in the beautiful words of the poet, 
 we can only say — 
 
 "When Lazarus left his cham el-cave, 
 And home to Mary's house returned, 
 Was this demanded — if he yearned 
 To hear her weeping by his grave ? 
 
 ' Where wert thou, brother, those four days ? ' 
 
 There lives no record of reply, 
 
 Which, telling what it is to die, 
 Had surely added praise to praise. 
 
 From every house the neighbours met, 
 The streets were filled with joyful sound, 
 A solemn gladness even crown'd 
 
 The purple brows of Olivet. 
 
324 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 Behold a man raised up by Christ ! 
 
 The rest remaineth unrevealed ; 
 
 He told it not, or something sealed 
 The lips of that Evangelist." 
 
 And we ought, indeed, to be thankful for this silence. 
 We have already, in the Bible, revelations of the 
 mysteries of the unseen world, clothed in images 
 derived from the most glorious things of earth; and 
 what havoc have men made of these in their attempts 
 to interpret them ! How low, and prosaic, and alto- 
 gether unworthy are the conceptions to which they 
 give rise in the minds of very many ! A similar fate, 
 we may be sure, would have overtaken any effort 
 made by the restored dead to record their experiences 
 in the poor vain forms of time and sense. And, 
 therefore, it is well that the attempt has not been 
 made.; in any case it would have obstructed the de- 
 velopment of our Christian character, by placing be- 
 fore us a hope seen which is not hope, and cheating 
 our faith by the mirage of fancied sight. But perhaps, 
 after all, there was nothing to reveal. It has been 
 suggested that memory is essentially dependent on 
 impressions made upon the brain; and that, without 
 those impressions to refer to, all our past history 
 would present to us a universal blank. If this be 
 true — and modern science confirms it — then the spirit 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 325 
 
 in its disembodied state, however conscious and ac- 
 tive, has no organ to record its impressions and 
 experiences. It cannot communicate with, or make 
 itself visible to us; it has no idea of time or succes- 
 sive existence, as we have through the limitations and 
 changes of our bodies, and, consequently, a thousand 
 years are to it, as to the Great Spirit Himself, but 
 as one day, and the long interval between death 
 and the resurrection is but like a single moment of 
 sleep, during which a man has dreamt out a whole 
 life-time of the most varied adventures. These con- 
 siderations suggest the thought that " when the spirit 
 of Lazarus returned to its forsaken companion, and 
 resumed that compound existence in which its faculties 
 could work only by bodily organs, it would find no 
 marks upon, the brain of what passed in the inter- 
 mediate state;" and therefore the interval of four days 
 of death would seem to him like a moment's uncon- 
 sciousness, in which nothing that happened was re- 
 membered, and through which the impressions made 
 upon the body before death alone survived. 
 
 But though St. John does not describe the outward 
 immediate effects of the miracle, he discloses explicitly 
 or incidentally the deeper and more abiding effects 
 which it produced upon all who were concerned in 
 it. We see throughout the narrative that the dis- 
 
326 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 cipline of Christ's words and actions was separating 
 the spectators into two distinct classes, according to 
 their spiritual discernment or obtuseness ; just as the 
 cross of Christ separated the two thieves who were 
 crucified with Him into penitent and impenitent \ just 
 as all His work divides mankind into two classes, saved 
 or unsaved. All Divine operations act in the way of 
 tests and judgments, trying the states of men. Some 
 of the spectators saw in the tears of Jesus the proofs 
 of His great love to Lazarus ; while others saw in them 
 only the evidences of His weakness and selfishness. 
 And the effect of the final act of the miracle upon 
 each class was in accordance with these differences 
 of moral quality. To the one class, embracing the 
 larger number, the occurrence was so overpowering 
 that they at once believed on the Saviour ; while the 
 unbelief and hostility of the other, and smaller class, 
 were only deepened and intensified. The one class 
 enrolled themselves among the followers of Jesus, 
 awed and solemnized by a sense of eternal things; 
 the others, hardened in their hatred, unimpressed by 
 the marvellous display of Jesus' power which they had 
 witnessed, went straight to the authorities to denounce 
 • Him, and concoct with them the means for His de- 
 struction. We must conclude, however, that the effect 
 in both cases, though in different degrees, was unsatis- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 327 
 
 factory ; for even those who believed soon abandoned 
 Him, and were among the fickle multitude who cried 
 " Hosanna to the Highest " one day, and " Away 
 with Him," " Crucify Him" the next. Their faith 
 consisted, not in a spiritual influence produced upon 
 their minds by the Redeemer's personal character, 
 but in a mere transient excitement caused by the 
 wonder of the miracle. 
 
 And this result shows to us of how little value are 
 miracles in determining or influencing the spiritual life. 
 The Jews of our Saviour's time had a childish craving 
 for sensible signs, and many mighty works were done 
 before them ; but these miracles produced but a 
 passing impression upon them, and did not at all 
 touch their conscience and heart. How, indeed, 
 could an outward sign, however extraordinary, con- 
 vince those who were blind to the wonder of love 
 and wisdom, of holiness and meek self-sacrificing 
 devotion, which, greater than any miracle, was ex- 
 hibited before their eyes in the daily life of Jesus? 
 They sought to enter into the Kingdom of Heaven 
 by the gate of the senses, and not by the gate of 
 the spirit ; and they failed accordingly. We, too, are 
 apt to fancy that miracles would produce a deeper 
 and more satisfying faith than the common means 
 of grace which we enjoy. We have an instinctive 
 
328 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 longing for some natural outward approach to God. 
 But that knowledge of God by attestations which 
 mere external signs can give, is only the knowledge 
 of His power, not the knowledge of Himself; not the 
 knowledge which is eternal life ; and assuredly, if we 
 cannot come near to God by that moral and spiritual 
 process which assimilates us to His nature, we cannot 
 hope to do so by the path of wonders. "If we hear 
 not Moses and the prophets, neither will we be per- 
 suaded though one rose from the dead ; " and what a 
 commentary upon the truth of these words, was the 
 hardening effect produced upon the spectators by the 
 most stupendous of all Christ's miracles ! 
 
 The effect of the miracle as regards Christ Himself 
 was, as I have previously said, to accelerate His doom. 
 It stirred up the Sanhedrim to take immediate steps 
 to destroy Him; for they feared lest the number of 
 His adherents might prodigiously increase, and thus 
 undermine their own authority, as well as provoke a 
 collision with the Roman power, which would end in 
 national disaster. To avoid this conspiracy, Jesus de- 
 parted to the seclusion of the obscure town of Ephraim, 
 near the wilderness of Judea, until the Passover — until 
 His appointed hour should come. The restoration of 
 Lazarus to the bosom of his family was the cause of 
 J esus' banishment \ and the raising of Lazarus to life 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 329 
 
 had the most direct effect in bringing about the death 
 of Jesus. Thus all His acts were anticipations and 
 types of the great final sacrifice of the Cross. It was 
 through loss to Himself that all His generous acts 
 were done ; and now it is by His poverty that we are 
 enriched, by His stripes that we are healed, by His 
 sorrow that we are made joyful, and by His death that 
 we have eternal life. 
 
 Upon Lazarus, thus marvellously brought back from 
 the tomb, the effect of the mighty miracle is not re- 
 corded. But one further authentic notice of him is 
 given ere the curtain falls upon his history. We find 
 him some days afterwards sitting among the guests at 
 the supper in Bethany; which, as Trench suggests, like 
 the command to give meat to the revived daughter of 
 Jairus and our Lord's own participation of food after 
 His resurrection, was a proof that his restoration was 
 real and not phantasmal. That banquet was perhaps 
 a sacramental supper, signalizing the renunciation of 
 former habits and a consecration to a new and higher 
 life. It was a realization of the Divine promise — 
 " Behold I stand at the door and knock ; if any 
 man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come 
 in to him, and sup with him, and he with me." 
 Lazarus had been called from the tomb by the voice 
 of Jesus \ he had heard that voice, and the door of the 
 
33 o THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 tomb was opened; and now the Giver and the receiver 
 of life feasted together. We cannot believe that such 
 a wonderful crisis in the history of Lazarus could have 
 left his heart and life unaffected. The act of death 
 must have precipitated much of the sinful elements 
 of his life; and, defecated from these, "his inward 
 resurrection into a purer and nobler life must have 
 been parallel with his outward resurrection to "his 
 ordinary life." If he was the young ruler whom 
 Jesus loved, then the extraordinary discipline of his 
 illness, death and restoration, must have been peculi- 
 arly adapted to wean his affections from the things of 
 the world ; and, knowing now the true worth and use 
 of riches, nothing would remain to prevent his follow- 
 ing the Lord, who did such great things for him, with 
 a heavenly faith supremely, and with a pure heart 
 fervently. He shared, perhaps, as Dr. Plumptre 
 has suggested, in our Saviour's triumphal march 
 from Bethany to Jerusalem, which the miracle wrought 
 upon himself had directly caused, and in the Pente- 
 costal gifts poured down upon the infant Christian 
 church ; and then, if not before, the command, " Sell 
 all that thou hast and give to the poor, and come 
 follow me, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven," 
 was obeyed by him as by all the other converts, whose 
 hearts were exhilarated and lifted above all selfishness 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 331 
 
 by the new wine of the kingdom. He needed the 
 extraordinary discipline to which he had been sub- 
 jected, not only for his purification, but for his comfort; 
 for he had to pass through scenes of despair and 
 death, which tested faith as gold is tried by the fire. 
 His last years were doubtless spent amid great tribu- 
 lations, such as were not from the beginning of the 
 world to that time — no, nor ever shall be again. The 
 sorrow that his sisters endured for his sake, he had to 
 endure in keener form for the sake of his Lord when 
 he saw Him nailed to the accursed tree, and num- 
 bered among transgressors; and the despondency 
 which came over them when their Lord was absent in 
 their time of sore need, weighed heavily upon himself 
 when the hope of the restoration of the kingdom to 
 Israel by Jesus, which he cherished, had gone out, 
 as it seemed, forever in the tomb of Joseph. And 
 how dreadful must have been his sufferings when he 
 beheld the Mount of Olives, the scenes around his 
 quiet home, trampled under foot of the Roman army, 
 and the temple of Jerusalem perishing amid flames 
 and blood. His restoration to life was not indeed an 
 unmixed good ; but, to whatever trials it led, it had 
 prepared the way of his soul for enduring and tri- 
 umphing over them. And when at length he came 
 to die the second time, the memory of all that his 
 
332 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 first death had revealed and accomplished must have 
 made welcome to him the final change which should 
 usher him into the higher home, where violence is no 
 more heard, nor wasting and destruction seen, whose 
 walls are Salvation and gates Praise, and enabled him 
 to sing the triumphal swan-song of the apostle, " O 
 Death where is thy sting? O Grave where is thy 
 victory ? " 
 
 As regards the effect produced by the miracle upon 
 the sisters, we are not left to conjecture; there are 
 hints given sufficient to enable us to form a tolerably 
 correct idea of it. At the memorable supper given in 
 honour of Jesus in the quiet home of Bethany, in 
 which life had resumed its former course — a family 
 feast which we may regard as typical of the resur- 
 rection communion, when we shall sit down in the 
 kingdom of heaven with those whom we loved and 
 lost, and feast with them at a table that shall never 
 more be withdrawn, and from which the guests shall 
 go no more out — we see abundant proofs of the 
 ennobling influence produced by the discipline of 
 .sorrow and joy through which they had passed. 
 Before this Mary had been passive and contem- 
 plative ; " her eyes were homes of silent prayer ; " 
 she had been satisfied with receiving rather than 
 giving, with merely sitting at the feet of Jesus in 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 333 
 
 lowliest reverence, and drinking in with child-like 
 trustfulness His words of eternal life. But now the 
 deep love of her heart, stirred up by her brother's 
 wonderful restoration, longs for self - manifestation. 
 She is no longer content with thoughtful meditation. 
 The cherished alabaster box is brought forth and 
 broken, and all its precious spikenard poured out 
 upon the feet of Jesus, until the room is filled with 
 the odour of the ointment. In a transport of adoring 
 gratitude, she wipes His feet with the hair of her head. 
 She puts her woman's glory under His feet. She 
 loves much, and she gives much to show it. And 
 Jesus gives to her act of true sacrifice a far wider and 
 grander meaning than she herself knows. She puts all 
 the force of her love into the symbol \ and the Love 
 that passeth- knowledge interprets it beyond human 
 conception. The little arc proves to Him the perfect 
 circle. The temporary act, like everything done to 
 and for Him who is from everlasting to everlasting, 
 gains something of His own enduring and infinite 
 worth. He sees in it the embalming of the victim of 
 death, and the anointing of the conqueror of death. 
 It speaks to Him of another sacrifice more lavish, 
 more uncalculating still, which stands forth as the very 
 type of Divine prodigality — the gift of the only Be- 
 gotten Son ; and it wins from Him that highest meed 
 
334 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 of praise, " Wheresoever the Gospel shall be preached 
 in the whole world, there shall also this that this woman 
 hath done be told for a memorial of her." Nor is the 
 change in Martha less remarkable. She is present at 
 the supper too, serving at the table, and ministering to 
 the comfort of the guests; but she is no longer jealous 
 and intolerant, burdensome to others through cum- 
 bering herself with much serving and carefulness about 
 many things. " Her activity has been calmed by trust; " 
 her divided heart has been united by the choice of 
 " the one thing needful." The fulfilment of her simple 
 household duties, done for Christ, is translated by 
 Him into a heavenly ministry. And she who, when 
 first introduced to us, said to Jesus, " Lord, dost thou 
 not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? 
 bid her therefore that she help me," utters not even a 
 whisper of remonstrance when other rough unsym- 
 pathetic voices are raised in condemnation of her 
 sister's extravagance. The spiritual education of the 
 two sisters, begun in hours of joy with Jesus, was com- 
 pleted in their hours of sorrow. Each receives the 
 . finishing touch, from that stern but wise and gracious 
 teacher, that was needed to perfect her character. 
 The love that was dreamy and unpractical manifests 
 itself in energetic and noble action ; and the piety 
 that was over-careful about worldly things, and over- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 
 
 active about domestic duties, becomes thoughtful and 
 heavenly. We may say of both, in the words of the 
 poet — 
 
 ' * Thrice blest whose lives are faithful prayers, 
 Whose loves in higher love endure ; 
 What souls possess themselves so pure, 
 Or is there blessedness like theirs." 
 
 And what effect ought the great miracle to have 
 upon us, for we too are witnesses of it. and for our 
 sakes also it was wrought? It is as useful to us in 
 the record as it was to the spectators in the doing. 
 Its temporar>' effect has been long over for ever, but 
 its permanent effect upon the souls of men may still 
 be felt and seen. It is to us a sign, significant of 
 something interior to, and higher than, the bare physi- 
 cal performance. It was the custom among the 
 wealthy members of the early Christian Church in the 
 East to have a picture of the raising of Lazarus woven 
 upon their outer garments, in order that, like the 
 Pharisees, who made broad their phylacteries, they 
 might be considered pious by men, and be approved 
 of by God. But not upon our garments, but upon 
 our hearts, should we bear the inimitable record of 
 this most gracious and wonderful work. And so 
 cherished, so woven into the very texture of our 
 nature and life, it will help to make us truly pious and 
 
336 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [chap. 
 
 blessed. In our hours of despair of ourselves, it will 
 teach us that He who raised Lazarus from the grave, 
 where he had lain four days, can quicken all who have 
 lain so long in the grave of sin, and been bound so 
 fast by habits of evil that they seem almost incapable 
 of renewal, and translate them into the glorious liberty 
 of the sons of God. In our hours of sorrow and 
 loneliness, because of bereavement, it will teach" us 
 how deeply our Lord sympathizes with those pas- 
 sionate human griefs of which He seems to us so 
 unmindful ; and that it is not ignorance, or absence, 
 or lack of love on His part, that has permitted our 
 beloved ones to die, but that the glory of God in our 
 own higher good might be promoted. And in our 
 hours of doubt and fear, when looking forward to our 
 future fate, it will speak to us of the resurrection of 
 the body at the last day; it will be a specimen of 
 that new genesis under which there shall be no more 
 death, and all the old things of the curse shall be 
 done away with, and eternal life shall be the perfect 
 exercise of all our true and pure human affections 
 forevermore. 
 
 But, great and blessed as it is, not upon the resur- 
 rection of Lazarus alone, or chiefly, do our hopes 
 depend. God has given to us some better thing. 
 We have the surpassing wonder of Christ's own resur- 
 
in.] LAZARUS. 
 
 rection from the grave — the culminating point of the 
 whole miracle-structure of the Divine history of reve- 
 lation — the sum of the Gospel. And His resurrection 
 is the pledge and pattern of ours. The resurrection of 
 Lazarus was a resurrection within the limits of this 
 frail mortal existence. It was a restoration to the 
 old earthly life, with all its wants and woes, its limi- 
 tations and its inevitable termination ; but the resur- 
 rection of Jesus is the revelation of a new life, 
 wherein all that belonged only to this rudimental life 
 shall be dropped, as the chrysalis drops its exuviae 
 in developing its wings, but retaining for ever all 
 faculties and functions essentially human. It is not 
 an extension of the weary, sorrowful existence with 
 which we are already acquainted, for in that case it 
 would be more a bane than a benefit, but the mani- 
 festation of an existence free from all the evils of this 
 life, strengthened and enlarged to walk with the angels 
 the great paths of immortality, and to bear unburdened 
 the "far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory. n 
 It issues not, as in the case of Lazarus, in a second 
 death, but in ascension into the deathless mansions 
 of the Father's home. And, in the faith of this 
 glorious resurrection, we can lie down and take the 
 last long sleep in the dust of the earth, in the sure and 
 certain hope, that, if the Spirit of Him that raised up 
 
338 THREE RAISINGS FROM THE DEAD. [ch. III.] 
 
 Jesus from the dead dwell in us, He that raised up 
 Christ from the dead shall also quicken our mortal 
 bodies by His Spirit that dwelleth in us. The work 
 of regeneration begun in the soul, where the work of 
 death began, shall be completed in the resurrection 
 and final redemption of the body. For that crowning 
 wonder of creative power and love we wait in hope, 
 trusting in Him who is the Light of both worlds, 
 and knowing, amid all our sorrows and bereavements, 
 that— 
 
 ' ' The song of woe 
 Is, after all, an earthly song." 
 
 THE END. 
 
Mr. MacLehose, 
 
 GLASGOW, 
 Has just Published or has in Preparation the following : — 
 
 PRINCIPAL CAIRD. 
 
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 PROFESSOR EDWARD CAIRD. 
 
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 amined, with a Historical Introduction. By Edward Caird, 
 B.A., Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University of 
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 PROFESSOR NICHOL, 
 
 The English Language and Literature — A 
 
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 LL. D. , Professor of English Language and Literature in the 
 University of Glasgow. In I vol., 8vo. \In Preparation. 
 
 PROFESSOR LEISHMAN. 
 
 A System of Midwifery, including the Diseases of 
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 Practical Educationists, and their Various 
 
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 REV. WILLIAM BATHGATE. 
 
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MR. MACLEHOSE'S LIST— Continued. 
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 lias appeared that discusses this subject so explicitly and exhaustively ; and 
 the present volume has the merits of being much more concise and better fitted 
 for common use."— Daily Review. (Hamilton, Adams & Co., London). 
 
 I IS. MACLEHOSE, GLASGOW: MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON. 
 
MR. MACLEHOSE'S LIST— Continued. 
 WILLIAM PULSFORD, D.D., 
 
 Sermons Preached in Trinity Church, Glasgow. 
 
 By Wit Pulsford, D.D. I vol. Crown Svo, Cloth, Price 7s. 6d. 
 
 "We can best describe the school of thought to which Dr. Pulsford 
 belongs, by saying that it lies nearly midway betwixt Dr. John Ker 
 and Frederick William Robertson, and rather nearer to the former 
 than the latter. The sermons have much of the brilliancy of thought 
 and style by which Robertson fascinated his Brighton hearers, and 
 they also exhibit in the author a similar tendency to dwell more on 
 the person than on the work of Christ. But there is this essential 
 difference, that Dr. Pulsford, while filled with an overmastering ap- 
 prehension of Christ as the Son of Man and the Son of God, never 
 loses sight of him as the Mediator and Redeemer. . . . The great 
 doctrine of the atonement is always there. ... In attractiveness of 
 thought and beauty of expression, it is difficult to say which excels 
 the other, although we incline to think that Pulsford enters most into 
 the pathos of his subject. . . . The charm of these sermons lies in 
 the combination of a philosophical habit of thought and cultivated 
 forms of expression with an earnest religious spirit, and a measure, by 
 no means small, of evangelical truth. — Daily Ri 
 
 "It presents to a wider circle samples of a style and mode of 
 teaching which it were greatly to be desired were more common in 
 our pulpits than we find it at present. Nothing is given us at second- 
 hand. There is no filching from other people's stores, or ploughing 
 with other men's heifers. The preacher, we are made to feel, speaks 
 to us out of the fulness of his own spiritual and intellectual life. He has 
 been under no temptation to borrow, just because he had a message to 
 deliver. He has been true to himself, and he has not, therefore, been 
 false to any man. . . . He is a preacher because he has first been a 
 thinker. He proclaims the truths of the Gospel of Christ because they 
 illustrate and explain all other mysteries. Religion to him mnst be a 
 life of thought, in intelligence ; faith is the flower and crown of a reason- 
 able life ; all wisdom and all true thought are therefore in harmony with- 
 the central principles on which the deepest life rests." — Spectator. 
 
 " Here we have a volume of masterly sermons, full of elevated and 
 suggestive thought, and equally full of beauty and all that is calcu- 
 lated to stir emotion. . . . There is, too, a clear utterance of the 
 grand fundamental truths of the Gospel. . . . We thank Dr. Pulsford 
 for adding to our sermon literature a volume that will be ranked among 
 the best productions of recent times. — Baptist. 
 
 " In the discourses of which this volume consists, the thought has 
 run the style into moulds of artless simplicity, and often of great force 
 and beauty. . . . With a marked absence of dogmatic costume in 
 the sermons, there is a fulness of sound Evangelical truth, and a rare 
 unfolding of the best and highest spiritual philosophy. . . . There is 
 hardly a sermon in the volume but contains beautiful and suggestive 
 thought. " — Evangelical Magazine. 
 
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MR. Af A CLE HOSE'S LIST— Continued. 
 PROFESSOR VEITCH. 
 
 The Tweed, and Other Poems. By John 
 
 Veitch, LL.D., Professor of Logic and Rhetoric in the 
 University of Glasgow. I vol., Extra Ecap. 8vo., Cloth, 
 Price 6s. 6d. 
 
 "Professor Veitch has essayed a perilous task, and one which 
 would most probably have proved beyond his strength, had he not 
 united in large measure what seem almost incompatible qualities. 
 Peaceful, pastoral Tweed, wrapt in atmosphere as of sylvan dream, 
 with its glens and 'hopes,' its silver tributaries sliding down, carrying 
 their burden of glad or plaintive suggestion, has also its mouldering 
 castles, its keeps, its grey peel towers, — relics of the olden times, when 
 the fierce Border life throbbed at the full, and often found tragic 
 outlet. . . . Professor Veitch has drunk in the spirit of the Tweed, 
 — he has wandered by 'cliff and scaur,' by haugh and holm, till the 
 great presences of nature have become familiar. The misty mountain 
 winds have been free to blow about him, and he has gained some 
 of their secrets. At the same time, he has dwelt much amid the 
 memories of great human enterprise, and has reached to the profound 
 emotions that stirred in the men of those rough-and-ready days ; and 
 he has written a poem containing passages which w r ould have de- 
 lighted Wordsworth and Scott alike. He has something of the 
 meditative pensiveness of the one, something of the dash and fire of 
 the other, in setting to words of his own the rough records of ' high 
 emprise.' " — Spectator. 
 
 "As regards the general style of writing, it reminds one of Words- 
 worth's in the simplicity and clearness of idea and language, and of 
 Tennyson's in its melody and exactness of figure, while all through it 
 is beautified with the reflections of a thoughtful mind ever alive to the 
 contrasts between the olden times and ours. ... Some of the minor 
 poems are exquisite in simplicity and strength." — Edinburgh C our ant. 
 
 "Every page bears witness to a highly cultivated mind: every 
 page is also marked by originality and a deep love for nature." — 
 Westminster Review. 
 
 "Professor Veitch combines two qualities seldom united in such 
 measure, the reflectiveness, meditative depth, and what we may call 
 dreamful instinct for nature, which we are most inclined to identify 
 with the name of Wordsworth, and the vivid sympathy for human 
 .character, especially as embodied in action and daring deed, which 
 suggests the name of Sir Walter Scott. . . . 'The Tweed' contains 
 passages which are in themselves complete poems, suffused with quiet 
 thought and coloured with the subdued tints of fancy, deepened by 
 loving and constant association with the great presences of nature 
 which poets have always been prone to magnify." — British Quarterly 
 Review. 
 
 JAS. MACLEHOSE, GLASGOW : MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON. 
 
MR. MACLEHOSE'S LIST— Continued. 
 
 s of The Tweed — continued. 
 
 " To all who know and love the Border dales, we heartily commend 
 this volume of poetry. It will make such persons know and love 
 them better. To those who do not know them, but have a heart for 
 such things, we commend it not less. It will open the eyes of sympa- 
 thetic strangers to discern the aspects and to feel the ' pastoral 
 melancholy ' of those silent hills as no other poetry we know of since 
 the voices of Leyden and Scott and Hogg and Wordsworth became 
 dumb. " — Scotsman. 
 
 " Professor Veitch has vivified his subject with the full strength of 
 his cherished natural feeling ; he has adorned it with the best labour 
 his opulent and cultivated intellect can show ; and, as result, we have 
 a poem finely conceived, wrought out with a force and grace that, if 
 not of the highest order, are certainly both admirable and picturesque, 
 rich in picturesque descriptions and instinct with a sentiment that 
 appeals to the universal heart of humanity. . . . Some of the minor 
 poems are very fine. Several are in the ballad form, and two, ' The 
 Herd's Wife ' and 'The Death of Lord Maxwell,' seem to us to be, 
 in their different veins, as exquisite a reproduction of the genuine 
 romantic ballads native to the region from early time as we have ever 
 met." — Daily Rc\ 
 
 "Professor Veitch is calm, pure, reflective, rather than strong, 
 passionate, dramatic. His poem on ' The Tweed ' is sustained and 
 finished in style, and contains passages of blank verse such as Scott 
 and Wordsworth would have read with delight." — Nonconformist. 
 
 "Dr. Veitch displays, in the first place, a most thorough acquaint- 
 ance with, and love for, his subject. We doubt whether even Scott, 
 who reared his noble castle by the banks of the Tweed, knew more 
 about that classic stream, in all its various phases and humours, than 
 does Professor Veitch. But, beyond this, the author has brought to 
 his task a poetic instinct and play of fancy of a very rare type. . . . 
 These lines we have quoted indicate but very faintly many of the 
 beauties which abound in this poem. They may, however, induce 
 our readers to become acquainted with the writings of one who ex- 
 hibits so much of true poetic feeling and so much enthusiasm for the 
 beautiful scenes he describes." — Leeds Mercury. 
 
 PROFESSOR VEITCH. 
 
 Lucretius and the Atomic Theory. By John 
 
 Veitch, LL.D., Professor of Logic and Rhetoric in the 
 .rsity of Glasgow. I vol, Crown Svo, Cloth, Price 
 3s. 6d. 
 
 " There is no lecturer more fitted than Dr. Veitch to do justice at 
 once to the high poetical and imaginative talent, and to the deep 
 
 JAS. MACLEHOSE, GLASGOW : MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON. 
 
MR. MACLEHOSE'S LIST— Continued. 
 
 Notices of Lucretius — continued. 
 
 speculative insight of Rome's great poet-philosopher. He has brought 
 to his task the experience of many schools of philosophy. His edition 
 of Hamilton's Lectures, undertaken in conjunction with the late Dr. 
 Mansel, and his other philosophical works, have given him some title 
 to speak his mind upon such an author as Lucretius." — Daily Review. 
 
 "This is a much more important work than its bulk, title, or original 
 object might induce one to deem it. The title appears to us badly 
 chosen. It is true, a considerable portion of the book consists of a 
 fair outline of the philosophy of the Poet of Atoms. Professor Veitch 
 has not only made himself master of the ideas of Lucretius, which he 
 sketches as luminously as perhaps any man could, but, himself an 
 interpreter of the voices of nature, he exhibits a subtle sympathy with 
 the beauties of the poem. His versification of the splendid passage in 
 the Fifth Book, in which the ceaseless conflict between life and death 
 and the probable collapse of the present aggregation of atoms are 
 depicted — though inferior, perhaps, to Munro's living prose — shows 
 that he has thoroughly entered into the spirit of this speculative 
 bard." — Dundee Advertiser. 
 
 "We are bound to say that such as read this volume, and take 
 interest in such studies, will be rewarded a thousand fold for their 
 trouble. It is written in beautiful, smooth-flowing, and remarkably 
 correct English ; and, for the satisfaction of those who are afraid of 
 heterodox notions in works on abstract scientific questions, we may 
 say that orthodoxy has a powerful and able champion, of a far higher 
 and more effective kind than the indiscreet clerical warriors who rush 
 blindfold but with great fury on the Tyndall school of philosophy." — 
 Jedburgh Gazette. 
 
 "In criticising the modern developments of Lucretius, Mr. Veitch 
 introduces all the best known atomic theories of the day — Sir William 
 Thomson's vortex rings ; the law of continuity expounded in a recent 
 work, ' The Unseen Universe ; ' Professor Huxley's protoplasm ; the 
 Conservation of Force ; and Tyndallism as enunciated before the 
 British Association at Belfast. He convicts the atomists of being 
 loose and faulty in their terminology, but, passing over minor flaws 
 in their argument, he exposes inconclusiveness and begging the 
 question on a large scale. His main charge against them is, that 
 they do not improve our position in relation to the mysteries which 
 they forbid us to explain by any other process than their own un- 
 intelligible one of evolution. They play with words like the Aris- 
 totelian schoolmen." — Edijiburgh Courant. 
 
 JAMES MACLEHOSE, 
 
 PUBLISHER TO THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW. 
 MACMILLAN AND CO., LONDON.