The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 28, 1902, Page 3

“Not so, Judas,” he replied with more his usual kindness. “Thou must be friends with thy comrades, who are good men at heart, though they have many to lrarn. Aiready they grieve foc their harsh treatment of thee. Besides, 2s I told thee in the beginning,.I have need Of thee in my work. He that humbleth f shall be exalted; they that are least in the earth shall become greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.” w From the longest excursion we have yet made with the Master, 1 have returned to find myself a father. But, thougn the lit- He stranger, whom I have named Simon in honor of mine own beloved parent, hath Ted me somewhat, my heart is sull heavy. I know uol 10 & certainty what the end is to be, but, as on the day. when 1 first parted from my fond old father in the great road at Kerioth, the tragedy of the universe seems opening before me. Of all our little company of disciples, I am the only one that grieves, nod that I alone love the Master, but because no othes fully comprehends his real mission, nor sees its logical ending. Our journey, which occupied a good deal of time, was over much the same ground covered by me in my search after Joseph asseh. We went northward to Caesarea Philippi and thence west to the cities of Tyre and Sidon, on the Great A large number of devout believers ac- companied us during the greater portion of our travels. Among them were Mary the mother of the Lord; Salome her sister, who is likewise the mother of James and John; Mary of Magdala, called Magda- lene; Joanna, the wife of Chuza, the steward of Herod Antipas; Susanna, & de- vout woman of Tiberias, and Ruth the sil- versmith’s daughter. Joseph would have been one of the party, but that the Lord had, before the time of our departure, selected him as one of seventy disciples whom he had sent forth, as he bad done claim the coming of heal the sick and urge ali men to repentance. One warm evening, after a day of more than usual activity, we came to the shore of e Hermon, near the spot where Joshua vanquished the forces of Jabin, the king of Hazor, where we Gesigned to pass the night. Thanks to the expertness of many of our number, the women were soon engaged in broiling a goodly store of fish. While the meal was preparing, Simon Peter drew me apart. I thought at first that 1 had offended him, for rage, such as I had seen upon the oc n of our first meeting, was shining in his eyes. *“Judas,” began he abruptly, impetuous- e are being tricked, cheated!” What meanest thou?” T asked in aston- ishment. “Tricked; cheated? By whom?” “By the two who did sneer at thy story of how thou wert robbed by that outlaw, Barabbas, at Hazory by two who of late were my partners on Lake Galilee; by two whose greed hath led them to presume upon their blood relationship to our Mas- ter.” “‘But, Simon, I comprehend thee not. In what have James and John offended thee? How have they shown any greed, how _ tricked us?” “By striving to dep: ful place in the Lord ing to seize the best selves.” The eyes of Peter fairly flamed as he proceeded, his hands trembled with ex- citement, his bronzed face grew red and I actuaily feared that he might be seized with a 1 *“Thou art surely mistaken,” said I, re- ightened at a phantom How knowest thou ive us of our right- kingdom; in secek- positions for them- of thine own raisin; these things?” “‘As men learn most secrets; threugh the babbling of a woman. Salome, the wife of Zebedee, who, with others, hath followed us fro pernaum, told the wife of Herod's ef servant of her design, whicl is to secure for her sons the best appoint- ments in the new kingdom that is shortly » arise. o P hou ravest, Barjonar” I cried, excited- 1y, nettled by what I regarded the stupid blunder of the apostle. “Hath not the Master often told us that his kingdom pertaineth not to the earth?” *I have heard him speak thus, but am not cast down. He is a Jew, of the very house of David, and will not resist the de- mands of h! ng-suffering people. How can the Kingdom of Heaven begin better than in the earthly freedom of God's chosen people? All of us, thou alone ex- cepted, expect this to come to pass. James and John are early after the spoils.” “How did’st thou learn these things?" “How, but from Joanna? Are not all ‘women gossips?” “I know not, nor yet exactly the demand she made upon hi: But here she comes; she will tell us all. Joanna. a woman of middle age and one of the Master's most devout followers, who had largely contributed of her sub- stance towards our support and the care of the poor with whom we come in con- tact, now approached. “The Lord granted not her request,” said she to Peter, her voice and manner €enoting decided satisfaction. “How answered he?” asked the apostle. “She took ber two sons with her,” re- plied the woman, evidently in 2 moog for talking, “and told the Master that she had come to ask 2 certain thing of him. Then he asked her what she would have at his hands.” ““Grant,’” said she, ‘that these my two sons may sit, the one on thy right hand, and the other on thy left, in thy king- dom.” ““Heard’st thou ever such presumption?” cried Peter. addressing me. “To which the Lord replied,” continued ‘ve know pot what ye ask. Are able to drink of the cup which 1 shall nk of and to be baptized with the bap- hat I am baptized with? To which oung men answered that they were said the Master?” I asked as 2 paused. 11 drink indeed of my cup and be with the baptism that I am bap- ¥ but to sit on my right hand left is not mine to give, but it iven to them for whom it is pre- ulé not have answered bet- on Peter, clapping his hands ie is surely the one to rule shall be g pared by my “Daniel ¢ moment Ruth came unto us, running. “The Lord would speak with you twain et once,” said she. “He hath summoned all the ciples to come unto him.” Without 2 moment's delay we hurried away from the spot. We found the Mas- ter near the fire where the fish were being broiied, the other ten standing near him. I fairly trembled as T approached, for I, saw dark looks on many faccs, and this was the first real trouble that had arisen among us. I noted the sad, serious ex- ression upon the Master's face and ookeG for words, If not of censure, at least of instruction and abmonition; mor was I disappointed. “¥e know.” said he, “that the princes of the Gent exercise dominion over them and they that are greater exercise authority upon them. But it shall not be among you:; but whosoever will be great among Fou let him be your minister; and whosoever will be chief among you let him be your servane. The Son of man came ot to be ministered unto but to minister and to give his life, a ransom for many.” e 1 Jooked from ome to another of my companions’ faces 1 saw that some of them had fafled to comprehend the great lesson that had been taught unto them. There was a momentary silence; then Bimon Peter spoke: “Behold, Lord, we have forsaken all and followed thee; what shall we have there- for?” The Master looked half smilingly around the semicircle of faces before him and replied: *“Verily 1 say unto you that ye who have followed me in the regeneration, when the Son of man shall sit in the throne of his ory, ve shall sit upon twelve thrones, flmng the twelve tribes of Israel; and every onme that hath forsaken houses, or ‘brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, er children, or lands' for my sake, shall receive an hundred fold and shall in- herit everlasting life. But many that are first shall be last and the last shall be first.” During our travels, or more properly wanderings, for, except in the most gen- eral way, We journeyed from place to place without previously contrived plans— during our wanderings the Master per- formed many miracles: healing the sick, cleansing lepers, casting out devils, open- ing the eyes of the blind; in a word, mercifully relieving all who suffered. But Df such mighty ‘works I have already de- meany, and he who believeth not believe though a thousand 1y, one would not This last expression was, 1 think, sug- . mind by a form of speech By the Lord in a parable that hah produced me a most profound im- pression. The ter portion of his y many of whom constantly P Mfll Excursion Eaid b aistinets o IR TR A on the ay he :fifi%fi“fl Al R they not erstood contending that he “hands. “La: spoke a parable that meant something en- tirely different; as, that he was to be put down for a time and then overcome his adversaries and ascend the throne of David. o For a long time the Lord continued his ministry, visiting all portions of Gali- lee and going as far north as Cesarea Philippi and Sarepta and eastward into Peraea. During these travels he mulii- plied his wonderful works of mercy and taught his great doctrine Twice within the year we went to Jerusalem. Upon the last occasion, at the Ieast of the Dedication, in the winter season, he was offered violencd, though he escaped unin- jured, going, with the iwelve, to Beth- any, beyond the Jordan. I deeply ragret- ted this step, because 1 saw that it was caused by a marked falling away of the following he had obtaincd in the Holy City, while threatened violence pointed to interference on the part of the priests and scribes. One day there came in great haste a young man from Bethany to Jerusalem. imself and his whole Louse were dis- ciples of the Master, wito had cleansed his father of leprosy, he being known as Simon the Leper. The young man chanced first to meet me, and it sent a thrill through my heart when I learned that Lazarus was sick, nigh unto death, and that his sisters, Mary and Martha, had sent him to inform the Master - of the young man’s sad state, “This sickness is not unto death,” said the Lord when the young man had made known his errand, “but for the glory of God that the Son 'of God might be glori- fied thereby.” * I doubted not that we would start im- mediately upon the journey, and began making preparations therefor. The Mas- ter at once dismissed the messenger, bid- ding him hasten back that he might tell the anxious sisters to be of good cheer, for all would be well. He expressed grief for the illness of Lazarus, but more, I thought, for the mental suffering of Mary and Martha, yet he made no suggestion of going to Bethany. At the end of two days, during which time his face had been sad even beyond its wont, as though suffering from some inward grief, he called us ail about him. “Le. us go again into Judea,” said he. “Master,” answered Philip, “when thou wert last there the Jews sought to s thee, and goest thou thither again? “Fear not,” returned the Lord.’ “Are there not twelve hours in the day. I f any man walk in the day he stumbleth not, because he seeth the light of this v But if any man walk in the night umbleth, because there is no lght in him.” 1 took th words to mean that he knew the danger he ran by going into Ju , and would exercise due caution. Having uttered them, he returned to the subject that i well knew was next his heart, and said: “Our friend Lazarus sleepeth, but I g0 that 1 may awaken him out of sleep.” To this Simon Peter replied: *“Lord, if he sleep he shall do well.” A look of surprise, of annoyance " al- most settled upon the troudled face of the M. er at this failure to comprehenda his_suggestion. again, Then he spoke plain and direct this tim& “‘Lazarus is dead, and I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent that ye may believe; nevertheless let us go unto him.” ~ On_the morning of the following day we drew" nigh to Betna 2 large company, we att m a distance, and our approach be- ins reported to the sisters of Lazarus, Martha came forth with great haste and she no longer wept and la- mented, yet her dry eyes and silent lips testi not less eloquently of the grief that was consuming her affectionate heart. “Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died.” With these words ithe mourning sister greeted the friend and Master whom she loved. There was in them no tinge of reproach, no suggestion of complaining, even. They simply proclaimed the stead- fast faith she caterfained both in the power and the love of the Master. She made this manifest by her next words: “But I know that even now whatsoever :Eou wilt ask of God God will give it T . A divine light, the very soul of love and sympathy, seemed tc issue from the luminous depths of the Lord's expressive Yet tender eves as he replied: ~Thy brother shall rise again.” “l know that he shall rise again In the resurrection at the last day,” an- swered Martha. the life. “I am the resurrection and He that believeth in me, though he were dead. yel shail he live, and whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall nsver die. Believest thou this?" Yea, Lord, I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world.” With this Martha turned and quickly departed in the direction of the town, running in the eagerness of her haste. Although in perfect kecping with the former teaching of the Master, the doce trine he here enunciatéd burst upon me the force of a sudden revela- L who had thought and written much of the stupidity of my associates, had myself falled to discern what should ’!mg\'e been as plain as the sun of morn- ng. Christ Jesus is to be God unto us. longer need our finite m the truth and strive (o g and depths, the incomprehensible expanse of the infinite. He h: placed himself within the limits of o ity to under- stand—hath manifested himself unto us id, weak and sinful men. e resurrection and the life” —Now in- deed hath death been robbed of his ter- no: indeed is the King of Terrors ned. ““And whosoever No 's grope after Sp_the heights th and believeth in me shall never & Now indeed hath Death been overthrown, falicn a victim to s own ravening cruelty and greed; now itr'l‘deed hath Life seized his sc ep‘{er: now is -the great doctrine complete, e mystery soived. 4 e ket Christ Jesus hath become God unto all mankind. To such as believe on him, Death is no longer Death, but the begin- ning of Life. 7 Tre Master hath been often in, Bethany, almost all the people knowing nim. As we approached the tow: any came forth to meet us, thus retar our progress. From these we learned that Lazarus had died of a fever, a he hed lain al- ready four days in tomb. While we thus conversed, we saw Mary approach- ing, accompanied by a e number of mourning friends. Beyond a doubt she had come forth at the suggestion of her sister. She burst into tears as she ap. proacked the spoi where we stood, au fell almost fainting at the Master's feet. “Lord,” she cried, as he gently raised her from the ground, “if thou had’st been here, my brother had not died.” With this she was seized with a parox- ysm of weeping, in which, so contagious is grief, her sympathetic friends joined most heartily. Never have I seen the Master 5o moved. The muscles of his face twitched ner- vously; his high and usually placid brow became wrinkled and mottled, while drops of sweat gethered upon his &ilken beard, By what seemed to be a mighty effort, ho somewhat subdued the natural emotions of his heart and asked: Where have ye laid him?” “Come and see,” replied Simon the Leper. As he turned to leave the spot, tears filled the Lord’s eyes, and, for a mom he buried his face in the folds of his m Ue. “Behold how he loved him,” murmured m: fc s voices, : What a spectacle! The Son of God In ears! The grave was a natural cave in - the rock, which had been enlarged and made regular that it might serve as a sepulcher. The entrance was ciosed by a heavy stone. “Take away the stone,” commanded the Lord, who had now recovered his wonted composure. At this Martha uttered a low cry, start- ed back and covered her flushed and wet face with her white, trembling hands. Lord,” she cried in startled, terrified Lo, ¥ Jihis time he stinketh; for he hath been dead four days.” ‘Said T not unto thee, that If thou would’st believe, thou should’st see the glory of God?” replied the Master. Then, while many willing friends seized and rolled away the heavy stone, he clasped his hands, lifted his eyes upward as if fixing them upon some ohiect 1n the beaFve'r_nh-. anil :;ld: % “Father, ank thee that thou hast heard me; and T know that thou hearest me always; but because of the people that stood by, I said it, that they may belleve taat thou hast sent me.” He removed his eyves from the heavens and ran them over the assembled throng, giving each a look that seemed to pene- trate the hidden recesses of his heart and read his inmost thoughts. Then he ad- vanced two or three paces toward the open tomb, and, stretching forth his ed in a loud voice: s, come forth!” A silence as profound as the yawnin, tomb fell upon the company that stoo: before it; a sllence that was alone broken ¥ gy tfie chirfimg o!‘a. bird In‘fi‘hedge near - Suddenly a slight, muffled sound seemed to emerge from the habitation of death, and men and women stepped closer to- gether, grasping each ' other’s hands in mingled expectation and ' dread. A mo- ment later a glimpse was obtained of a Wwhite object,.and then the tall figure of Lazarus appeared in plain view. e was bound about in a winding-sheet but mau- aged to reach the entrance, where he leaned against the wall. His arms were fast bound while his face was covered with a naakin, An exclamation of startled astonishment burst from the excited spectators, and death-like stillness instantly reigned again. Mary and Martha sank into each other’s larms, and, but for the timely as- sistance of friends, must needs have fall- en to the ground. . “Loose him and let him go,” commanded the Master. John, Simon Peter ‘and myself ran in- stantly forward. We carried him back into the tomb and hastily removed the winding sheet and restraining bands. Then Peter wrapped him’.in his mantle and we brought him forth into the open air. For @ moment he scemed utterly bewildered, unable to comprehgpd that which was passing about him; Then he threw himself at the feet of the Master and cried aloud: “I bless God and praise his son, who hath brought me from death unto life, I have walked with the Prophets, have learned from them and from Abraham that thou art indeed he who was to come. Praise the name of the Lord.” His face shining like an angel’s, Lazarus ‘sprang to his feet, embraced his sisters and afterward all of. his friends. He showed noj signs of the wasting fever that had consumed his body and taken his lifc, but looked the same in_every regard as when I last seen him. The divine power that had recalled him, like the Lazarus of the Lord's parable from the bosom of Ab- raham, had also removed the impress us- ually left by the bllihtlng hand of disease. The faith and enthusiasm manifested by the young man speedily spread among the bystanders, and many of them began praising God and acknowledged the Mas- ter as the Messiah. But this was not uni- versal. Three hard-featured men, none of whom were of Bethany, stood apart and did not join in the otherwise general ac- clalm. Shortly afterward they withdrew. departing in the direction of Jerusalem. I soen satisfled myself that these men were secret agents, or spies, of the Sanhedrim, and have ever since been sorely troubled lest their reports bring persecution upon the devoted head of the Master. BOOK VIL THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN. I “Hast the dagger ready, Nathan? The disciples of this accursed Nazarene are aided by Beelzebub and deal in the magic of the Egyptians.” “Look to thyself, Titus; the ancient of Jesus Barabbas taketh not instructions from a common cutpurse.’” “‘Ancient, sayest thou? The only ensign thou didst ‘ever bear was a grinning skull. I would that that stout-hearted Pollio were here.” “S8o would not I; one who saved his Stout heart and bulky body by turning Roman soldler would give us scant help. Look to thyself, I tell thee, and see that thy noose is properly knotted and slides ‘smoothly. We must this day rely upon ourselves, if we expect to earn pardon and the release of our fair and most rol- licksome blade of a captain. I tell thee that Beelzebub—"" “What can he do against the appointed agents of the Sanhedrim, the servants of God's high priests? I fear not all the Beelzebubs that can stand together in the * grotto of Pan—this Annas is quite their equal—but one who hath come forth from the grave where he lay rotting doth in- spire me with a most wholesome dread. Something of magical power may yet linger about him.” “And he who recalled one to life can surely make another dead. I tell thee, ‘Titus, the more I consider this business the less I am pleased with my part.in it. Su;;‘vose the Nazarene be indeed the Mes- siah?" ““If thou thinkest so, go and follow him. But leave oft thy prating, which fortifieth mine own courage far less than a cup of old wine, and look to thy dagger. He may come at any moment.” From the entrance of my banker's house I overheard this conversation and noted the two knaves who carried it on. The one called Nathan I had seen at Bethany on the ddy when Lazarus came forth from his tomb, while the other was one of the two who had seized me in the wood near Hazor. They stood, or rather crouched, in @ doorway on the side of the narrow 'street opposite Joel's .house. Seized with dismay at their ominous words, I stepped backwavd, out of the range of their vision,.and stood in anx- ious suspense. We had come to Bethany from Galilee, by way of Peraea and Jericho, arriving the preceding day, the feast of the Pass- over being but a few days distaut. There ‘we had remained very quietly, none in the town, save a few trusted friends, know- ing of the Master's presence. . ' “*Go into the city and attend to thine affairs,” he had said after the midday meal. I go not in yet, nor other of my disciples.” I questioned not the command, but at once departed. 1 had no special business to transact in Jerusalem, and, had I con- sulted mine own inclinations, waould have remained at Bethany. I had quite a sum of money in my purse, but the expenses attendant on the Passover would be con- siderable; and it was, 1 thought, clearly a part of mine “‘affairs” to secure a fur- -ther supply. I had drawn twenty shekels of gold from Joel and was preparing to enter the street, when the ominous wdrds of Nathan and Titus smote upon my hear- ing. That there was a plot on foot to take the life of Lazarus was bevond all ques- tion. He had, at the suggestion of his sisters, come into the city to make prep- arations for a fine supper that they de-, signed to soon give in-the Master's honor. As I reflected upon the desperate situa- tion I doubted not that the loving heart and all-knowing mind of the Lord had suggested the visit that had led me to this spot at such an opportune time. I re- solved to save the young man’s life, and, divinely supported, as I knew muyself to be. had no fear as to the result. “With a wildly throbbing heart I awaited the is- sue, I was.not long in suSpense. Soon a tall figure passed, or rather flitted across my vision, circumscribed as it was by .tke narrowness of the entrance in which I stood. Several had passed before every approaching footstep having quickened my pulse, but in the last comer I recog- nized Lazarus of Bethany. Although ex- pecting, confidently awaiting, his appear- ance, 1 was none the less startled, the sudden gravity of the situation, despite the plans I had formed, momentarily overwhelming me.. When_1 gained the street Lazarus was some distance away, with the two murderous wretches close behind him. I attempted to shout a warning, but my tongue refused to'do my bidding, literally clove to the roof of my mouth. Only a moment elapsed and then I cried aloud: *Lazarus! Lazarus! Beware!” But my warning was too late to profit the intended victim of the infampus plot. As’ the startled words left my “lips, the hands of the two robbers descended upon the young man, and his form instantly disappeared from vie moment later his two assailants vanisi®d also, and, running forward, I gaw that Lazarus had been thrown down a narrow stairway leading to the cellar, or subterranean chamber, of a square stone house, which stood somewhat apart from any others. Seeing a man in the ‘act of closing a heavy door at the foot of the stairs, I ran swiftly down them and threw myself upon him. So utterly unexpected was my assault that he retreated in dismay, and I entered a low room, dark but for the light of a single hanging lamp, while the door closed noisily behina me. ‘“‘Set a snare for quails and fowls will fall into it.” Turning, 1 confronted Nathan, the self- styled ancient of Barabbas, who was in the act of locking the door. ‘‘Rabbl Judas, cup and pursebearer to the pretender of Nazareth,” continued the robber, speaking as if announcing me to a large audience. “How fareth His Royal Majesty, the King of the Jews?"’ Grown by this time accustomed to the semi-darkncss of the place, 1 saw the fig- ure of lazarus lying upon the stone floor. As I looked, he moved, and made an effort to rise. This he was unable to do, his arms being bound to his back with a cord. After§watching his vain struggles for a moment, Titus, who had evidently just completed the task of securing him, as- sisted him to his feet. ‘“‘Beelzebub is less powerful here than at Bethany, where he called thee forth from the grave where thou had'st con- veniently hidden thyself,” sneered Nathan as he swung the heavy key upon his fin- ger. ““There Is no one without, since thy adventurous friend forced his way hither to remove the stone that guards this by > “Thy trick to raise a low-born peasant to the throne of David will profit thee THE EUNDAY CALL. nothin, b The tones in which: these last words were uttered struck me as familiar, and turning, I saw standing almost beside me, a stout club in his hand, Andrew, the little tailor of Kerioth. As Andrew spoke, Titus advanced and snatched the' !lell-mled purse from the girdle of Lazarus. Almost bursting with indignation, I stood watching the dastard- ly act, when my hands were suddenly seized, drawn behind my back and se- cured with a sl(dln1 noose. A moment later Titus stepped In front of me and possessed himself of my purse, “Now Lazarus of Bethany, I will set thy magic-working Master a real task; if he performs it I will eschew cutting purses and take service under him.” As he uttered these words, Nathan drew a long, slender dagger from beneath the folds of his tunic and advanced upon Laz- arus, who seemed to-have resigned all hope and stood in an attitude of prayer. Never, since that awful day at Capreae, had been in such imminent peril of death, yet my courage did not desert me: I had other strength than mine own to support me now. k““flold!" I shouted. “Thou shalt not 111" o “Kill?”" snecred the wretch. “Is it kill- ing, within the meaning of the Law, to do the bidding of God's high priest?” “Would'st slay a deferseless man, a bound captive?”’ “Did not Joshua so? Hath not Israel ever destroyed her enemies? Though but 2 poor robber, I have still read the Scrip- tures and know how God deals with men -—ot_’wblch I will now show thee an exam=> ple. Raising his dagger, he sprang toward Lazarus, who stood with closed eyes and moving lips. An instant it gleamed aloft and then descended. but not upon the breast of the expectant, and, I thought, willing victim—instead, it clattered noisi- ly_to the stone floor. I had been inwardly praying that God might interpose to save the life of the Master’s beloved disciple, and felt that my petition had been heard. I was quite sure of it a moment later when Nathan uttered a loud cry and, his right hand still 2bove his head, began leaping about as if suffering torments of pain. ‘“Thou hast indeed shown how God deals with men,” sald I. “A better example could scarcely be expected.l” ‘Whether the affliction had fallen upon the would-be murderer in answer to my prayers for Lazarus' safety, [ cannot say, but that it was part and parcel of God's 8reat providential plan, I do not doubt. ““Tis the visitation of the Most High; let us begone,” cried Titus, as he bent and chafed his companion’s almost rigid arm. “’Tis but a cramp, the result of too great zeal. See, 'tis passing,” replied Na- than, as he pushed his comrade back and began moving his arm slowly up . and down. “Try thy hand, brother,” he add- ed. pointing to the dagger, which lay at his feet. “Wilt permit two vagrant thieves to make thee a murderer?”’ whispered T to Andrew, whom I had approachad. “Thine own life is none too safe with them, I judge.” ~ “Tis true,” assented the tailor, looking nervously toward the robbers, who were engaged in earnest conversation. “Take us both to Rabbi Samuel,” said I, “and let him decide. Besides, he may wish to see me."” ““'Tis tru replied Andrew, “and An- nas as well; they charged me to bring thee unto them at the first opportunity.” ‘“We have plain orders to kill this man, objected Nathan, when. the tallor sug- gested that they leave the decision of the matter tg Rabbl Samuel and Annas. “True,” assented Andrew, “but I have also orders to bring Judas before them. They wish to treat with him, and the life of his friend may prove a powerful argu- ment.” 5 After a little further discussion the rob- bers, seemingly grieved to forego the pleasure of taking a human life. gave a sullen assent. Then Andrew lighted a taper at the flame of the smoking lamp, while his companlons removed a larger stone Ia the floor, revealing a narrow flight of stairs, leading into the black and yawning void below. ' 1L For some distance, straight as the flight of an arrow, we advanced along the sub- terranean passage-way, sometimes pro- tected by arched masonry, oftener cut through solid rock. At length we reached an iron door, which the leader unlocked. Then he ascended a long fight of stalrs and came to a chamber, lighted from high windows. Here Andrew extinguished his taper and departed, after biding his com- panions to unbind me. Returning after a gi‘lef absence, he signaled me to follow m. A Eyidently we were in a building of size and importance, for we passed through several corridors and up one broad figni of marble stairs. At length he thrust me through a door and withdrew. 1 found myseif alone in a large, vaulted chamber, which 1 speedily recognized as the one where I had first met Annas. I was in the house of Joseph Caaphas, the nominal head and, under the Romans and Annas, his father-in-law, ruier of the Jew- ish people. The revelation at once surnrised and startled me. That the dark and mysteri- ous passage, with its numerous branches, through -which I had been conducted, te minated in the private and officlal res dence of the high priest profoundly aston- ished me. 1 well knew that such things existed in corrupt, debased Rome. I had not thought to find them in the Holy City, controlied and utilized by the acKnow.- edged head of the one true faith. Bui my surprise disappeared before, or rather was swallowed up the ai v that overwhelmed me. What chance b the Master to evade the calculating ve: geance, the cold-biooded policy of a man like Annas, with machinery of which what i had seen w 53 mple? plot to kil ¥ involved the taking of his at would become of h s glori- Few, very few, understcod as vet its real scope and meaning—it woula surely perish with him. From these, and other like sad and dis- tressing reflections 1 was recalled to the gravity of my situaticn by the entrance of Rabbi Samuel. Always grave, there was a look upon bis face which proclaimed to me, who knew his every mood, that some crafty scheme was present in his mind. “I am giad to see thee, Judas,” he said most solemnly, “though sorry that we meet under such circumstances. Thou, who might have filled one of the foremos places in the land; to throw away thin ambition, thy pride, perhaps thy life, pursuing a phantom, following a knavish or half-crazed pretender—it grieves me to the heart, for thou wert ever. of all my scholars, fhe greatest fayorite.”” “I regret that I have Incurred thy dis- pleasure, Rabbi,” was my revly, “‘though none the less I am proud of the cause.” “The fault is mine, thou would'st say. But tell me, in all frankness, dost thou still entertain the delusion thac this Jesus is the Christ?” “My mind, my soul, my heart, my ev- ery faculty and sense is thoroughly con- vinced that he is. If I am entertaining a delusion it is a delusion for which I am prepared to die. > “Speak neither boastfuliv nor flippant- ly, for it may come to that. Hast seen him work miracles?” “Many times, Rabbi, more than that, the power hath been given to me, as one of his aposiles, to perform them my- self. Byt the greatest miracle has been wrought in mine own heart, which loves what it once hated, defests that for which it one time yearned.” “Thy foreign-acquired philosophy sur- passeth 1y powers of comprehension. When will he announce himself as King of the Jews?’ 7 “Never, Rabbi; his kingdom is not of this world.” : “Then he cannot complain if he. is sent where he can possess it. The San- hedrim does not propose to permit him to rivet the cha'ns of slavety upon the people through his foolisk and unpatri- otic doctrines. Jesus Barabbas, now in ihe tower, is a far less dangerous man. Is"it not so, Rabbi?" ¥ “Of a verity,” answered Annas, who had entered the room unobserved.by me. “I hear that thou wert arrested for at- tempting to rescue a_ prisoner from the custody of the Sanhedrim’s officers. 'Tis a most serious offense.” I had speculated as to what charge would be laid against me. and its grav- ity’ was not lessened by the circum- stance that it was” utterly faise. “Is it true that thou ordered two of Barabbas’ robbers to murder Lazarus of Bethany?' I demanded, l‘fl]dlfi facing {he great magnate of the Jewish people. “Wouldst insult mé?’ he asked stern- ly. “Thou knowest that I did not.” ¥ “They attempted his life, and said that it was by thy order.” ‘“‘Attempted his life; that is a different matter, though they falled in their duty. They were commanded to take, not at- tempt, the wretch's life.” “‘Hath the Sanhedrim authority to en- ter such an order?” “That is a somewhat mooted question at present, singe the Romans have so greatly abridged its ancient_ rights -and powers. Thine old master. Rabbl Sam- uel here, will give thee authorities touch- ing the matter if thou art interested in it. I have given it no thought of late.” Annas shrugged his shoulders as. if- to ous cause? indicate that the subject wearied him; then he produced a handful of olives, which he began eating, throwing the stones out of the window. - “‘Upon what evidence did the Sanhedrim find Lazarus guilty, and what was the charge brought against him?” I de- manded. “There .again I must refer thee to Rabbi Samuel,” replied Annas. “I was not aware that he had been brought to ; it must have been during my ab- sence. These olives are not overgood; I trust those of the next season's crop will be larger." ¢ Kon what authority, then, was his death ordered?’ * “‘Now, look thee, Judas of Kerloth; thou, who one time aspired to be a doc- tor, hast much to learn. The Romans have curtailed the powers of the San- hedrim until it has become but a name, & memory, of its bygone greatness. But are the laws instituted by the Most High to be violated with impunity on that account? Many have thought so, and some of them have learned their error. Not one jat-or one tittle of the law can be - changed, even by thy presumptuous ter, though the means of punishing its violations have been somewhat cur- tailed of iate. The Romans object to the Sanhedrim inflicting the death pen- alty—though it hath been done in my time—but _still blasphemers, and that would destroy the lzw, are not per- mitted to escape punishment. For such, and for some other purposes, I am the Sanhedrim. 1 ordered Lazarus of Beth~ nn:; g.l be lput ég deallth." n £ ave learn & lesson in the law, Rabbf,” said I, bowing, scornfully, I doubt not. *‘For, what cause and upon what evidence didst thou condemn ggn to sj‘_;:lth 2 ©“Thou art scarcely m censor, t will 1 completo thy leason. Lazades was condemned upon the testimony of competent and credible witnesses, His offense was aiding thy Master to perpe- trate a great, a most implous fraud, with a view to drawing the people from the one true God, who alone appointeth the time of our birth and the number of our days. In that he also committed blas- phemy. “But, rabbi,” T cried, “Lazarus died, Wwas buried and, at the intercession of the fiMa:t_er, was miraculously restored to I see that thou believ'st it,” said An- nas, as he drew another supply of olives from beneath his tunic, “and it maketh In thy favor. ' I acquit thee of hypocrisy, Which is a greater sin than blasphemy. Sit down and tell us thy story. What did ;l;‘l’?m.;lesus of thine when last at Beth- There was a look of deep curiosity, of anxiety, almost. upon the face of the high priest and that of Rabbl Samuel as well. Truth is the mightlest thing in the earth. What if these two sneering rabbins were convineed? What a boon for the Master, what a blessing to all mankind, what a crown to adorn mine own brow when, in the kingdom of heaven, I ascend one of the twelve thrones to judge one of tiic twelve tribes of Israel!’ I, who have so often seen the triumph of faith and zeal, Would test their powers to the utmost. Praying inwardly for divine strength, T recounted everything that had happened pertaining to Lazarus, much as I have al- ready written it down. As the earnest, impassioned words fell from my lip, mine auditors leaned eagerly forward, while the Intensest interest was manifest in their faces. In ‘generations who hath Ppleaded such a cause, before such judges? “*'Tis a strange, a very strange story,” ;:n):n’rlnen!ed Rabbi Samuel when'I had fin- shed. ‘“This Master of thine, seeketh he to propagate his faith by working miracles?” asked Annas. “Only as that is incidental to works of nercy,” 1 reolied. “I am told that he hath refused to con- vince seekers after the truth by perform- ing certain specified things.” “Thou art rightly informed. Miracles have little force after their witnesses are dead. He seeks to reveal God unto men by convincing them of the inherent truth and saving potency of the great doctrine he teaches. He would work 2 continuous miracle, dependent on no_man's testi- mony, in the hearts of all ‘who are to come after him.” He is a kind-hearted man, I take him?” ‘He loveth men like unto his Father. “Why, then, after he had learned of his friend Lazarus’ sore illness and the grief of his sisters, did he remain until the third day beyond the Jordan?’ “I presume not to judge the Master’'s motives, but if his delay cost the mourn- ing sisters a few tears more, his wonder- ful act hath wiped them away, bath robbed death of half its bitterness and Wwill become a solace to many sorrowing hearts.” “‘Hast changed his poiicy somewhat, I take it. since he deliberately permitted to arise the conditions for this last and most wonderful of all his works of merey. It is the part of wisdom to change plans that have proven defective, though the act scarce argues in favor of his divinity. "Tis as [ told thee.” continued Annas, ad- ng Eabbi Samuel. “His next changs licy will lead him to proclaim him- {ing of the Jews and appeal to the fanaticism and swords of the people, I not moved one hour too soon.’ I bad net thought that I could be dis- concerted by aughi that the high priest might say, yet I was totally unprepared to answer this sneering comment. Annas nement eving me closely and vidently enjoying my confusion; then he continued: ““Thou did'st net see Lazarus parted, nor view his remains: how know- est thou but it was all a trick, a plot to deceive a credulous and wondeér-loving people?” “By the angulsh of Mary, the groans of Martha, the deep grief of many friends, the tears of the Master. Besides, many of standing in Bethany attested his death,” I replied. “Human testimony cannot be relied upon to establish a fact, if Lazarus was not dead. “The laws of God are as unchangeable as himseif, while men are sadly given to lying; remember that. my son..7That the work was well executed, 1 dispute not, for thou. a clsver, learned man. wert ceived. But let that pass. T am con- vinced of his gullt, and he must die.” 1 was rudely awakened from my dream of advancing the Master's cause, winning a heavenly crown and saving the life of Lazarus. Overcome by the unex- pected announcement, I, possessed not the power to even protest. “Thou art.a living proof, Judas.” Annas went on, “that wise raen, as well as focls, may be duped, for T charge thee not with intentional wrong-doing. Knowing what thou dost of my methods and intentions, thou canst scarce expect to be restored to liberty. Wken the dark cioud that low- ers over Israel hath lifted. and thou ary freed from the strange fancies that now possess thy brain, thou mayst again come ferth into the world; may’st even become ofe of our party and secure advance- ment.”" cloud?” 1 as life de- “Dark repeated. “What meguigh thours. i3 < “I love my country and respect wil uphold the Law Which the Nazarens 1 attempting to destroy. In his case, as-in that of thy friend, Lazarus, I must as- s;xme the place of the old-time Sanhed- i I shuddered at these words, for T well knew that only my providential appear- ance had saved Lazarus from death. It were as easy Lo entrap the Master. “Suppose Judas becometh- his surety,” suggested Rabbi Samuel; “agrees to pro- duce him at thy command?” “Deliver the Son of God to the knives and nooses of thy hirelings?” T shouted, springing angrily to my feet. “I will ais with Lazarus first.” “I mean not that,” said Samuel. “In my eyes he hath scarcely merited death. The people respect the authority of the Sanhedrim,” he continued, addressing An- nas, “and if, on a full and fair hearing, it found him an impostor, they would no longer go out after him.”’ ““That is well sald,”” replied the priest. “I bear this man neither malice nor ill- will, and would spare his life, if I could and still save the people from following false gods, sucrificing their only remain- {;15 ,)mme for freedom. Wilt do that, Ju- as?” The question, with the awful Tesponsl- bility _that it suggested, fairly staggered me. Upon my decision, perhaps, depend- ed the life of the Master and the success or failure of his glorious faith. “Give me time to consider,” said T. Annas. who was now eating figs, in- clined his head and made,a courteous ges- ture. as if suggesting that time and the apartment were at my disposal., As [ walked slowly to and fro, the obscuring mists seemed to lift from my mind, and 1 was able to view the situation calmly and dispassionately. ‘‘Annas is determined, at whatever cost, and without regard to the required means, to put down the Master, or at least strip him of all claims to the Messiahship,” I sald to myself. But little consideration was required to bring my mind to this conclusion. He had distinctiy stated it and it was in line wth his well established policy. Joseph Caia- phas made clear the real secret of the objection to Jesus of Nazareth, when, 1in that very rcom, he had said that the genuine Messiah would prove to one of the foremost men of the nation, barrassing revolts and wars against the Romans might at any time prepare the way for a rebellion on the part of the Jews, and an aristocratic and powerfu} Messiah _would furnish a nucleus, about which the people would rally. ides, the priestly class was una.terably op- posed to all innovations in the ancient faith, while the Sadducees were especial- 1y hostile to the doctrine of the resurrec- tion as taught by the Master and exem- plified In the raising of Lazarus. % “He possesses the power to put the M. ter to death, and that without leaving a clew to the means employed. With my recent experiences in mind, this appeared self evident. At that mo- ment us of Betl was no more at the mercy of this unscrupulous and grasping man than was Jesus of Nazareth. ‘At the worst, a trial by the Sanhedrim will not mean th, since that body no longer possesses the power of inflicting the extreme penalty, while the publicity of such an arraignment will render Annas more cautious as to his secret acts.' On these points I was not In the least doubt. The danger con(ronung the ter lay, not in lll;le'SInhedll'lmtbl sfi\fi;fly; one members that meet in the o Hewn Stones, but In the one-man Sanhe- drim, in whose presence I now stood. “Is not the Lord preparing to strike decisive blow for the establishment of his claims and the substantial founding of his heavenly kingdom?” Everything seemed to make in favor of giving an affirmative answer to this ques- tion. 1In the beginning he had not an- nounced himself as the Messiah for whom the people looked, though he had soon made it known to his immediate disciples. Touching this, his teachings had been in the nature of 'a development. At first he had styled himself the Son of man, now he had become the Son of God. Often had 1 heard him enjoin secrecy as to his real character and mission, still more fre- quently forbid making public miracles that he had performed. The question of crafty Annas, as to Wwhy, knowing the sore sickness of La- zarus and the mental suffering of his de- voted sisters, he had remained for two days in Peraea, had fairly startled me. I had replied to the best of my ability, but well knew my answer lacked logical force. But now I saw the matter in a different light? Had not the Master changed his methods? Had he not Annas, deliberately waited beyond the Jordan that the conditions for an unan- swerable, irresistible miracle might be in adiness? Upon what other theory could seeming indiffergnce of heart is all love and bity to t his weeping friends be explained. More than that; why, at a time when he well knew' the wrath of the priests, seribes and chief Pharisees was aroused against him, did he come to face his ene- mies in the Holy City? I was entirely per- Staded that he meant to sveak so cou- vinc#igly and perform such mighty works as to answer all objections, draw the Jew- ish people unto him. “What better iield of action could he se- cure than in the semicircle before the seventy chairs in the Hall of Hewn Stones?" “None,” T was quick to answer. The greatest, if the craftiest men of the na- tion, sat there. Could I, who had seen his mighty works, listen¢d to his words , bowed before his ir- resistible influence—could I, who krew him to be the Son of Ged, entertain a doubt as to the outcome of such an encounter? The members of the Sanhedrim were but mern; they could hardly contend with the Holy One of God. “Hast decided?” asked Annas, as I paused and stood with foided arms befora the chair iu which he sat. “Exactly what is required of me?” was my reply. “If the Sanhedrim should, at any time, desire to bring this Jesus to trial,” sai the priest, ‘“‘thou art to inform us where he'is to be taken; in other words, art to become a surety for his appearance. If brought before us he shall have the Tight of making a defense, vouchsafed to every Jew by the Law and by immemorial usage.” 3 L “And what am T to receive for this? “Thice own liberty—yea, and that of Lazarus, as well: both of you swearing, mind thee, to keep this matter, and all pertaining tq it, secret.” “We have foresworn swearing, Rabbi, yet will we promise, upon our honor as men.” *“That will suffice; the word of a fanatic may be trusted.” 3 d the purses of which thine officers ggested 1. “They con- of our living and the Is robbing defenseless prisoners one of the perquisites of their office?” “Now, by the Holy Ark, this fs too much,” shouted Annas, evidently at onece aged and mortified. ““They shall suf- P Andrew is a zealous servant, but no -[.” remonstrated Rabbi Samuel. ‘He bere.no hand in it,” I explained. Twas Barabbas' two worthies took ham. . ‘Without speaking, Annas pulled vigor- oasly a silken cord which hung beside Iiin, and, almest immediately, the little tailor entered the room. ““Take with thee a guard.” commanded the oriest sternly: ‘“load those two rob- bers, whose employment thou wert so kind'as to suggest. with chains and throw them inte the secret dungeon, restoring to Judas and Lazarus their purses. And, mark me, Andrew: if ever thou offerest anc'her sugestion, I'li have t:’!ee bastina- doed. Where thou did'st fin two young men, there set them at libert: Go with him, Judas, and remembers that i alsc. 1 bowed a farewell and followed An- diew from the room. Tialf an hour later I stcod with Lazarus in the narrow street where I had first espled him, watching the tajlor as he closed the heavy door at thejfoct of the narrow stairs. gy ' ¢ 4 Atcut the fourth hour on the following day, the Master announced that we were are to go into the city. An intense gh subducd excitement seized upon What many had longed for was ; the Lord was about to confront biz enemies and great events might well be expected. Despite his plain teachings, 1 believe myself to be the only one of the Twelve who does not look to see a temporal as well as a spiritual kingdom established, and the announcement awak- ened high hopes. The Master path many friegds in Beth- any and we started with a goodl pary, which increased to a- multitude be- ore we reached the city. Our route lay aiong the southern border of the Mount cf Qilves. At Bethphage the Lord mount- ed a ycung ass, which he rode to the bridge at the foot of Mount Moriah. This acticn aroused the wildest enthusiasm, since it seemed a fulfillment of the proph- etic words of Zachariah. The advance semed like a triumvhant march, as the hills and valleys fairly rang with loud sheuts and songs of praise. Passing yromise of secrecy binds thy friend threugh the gate, we went direct to the . Temple. our progress being greatly im- mdedd by the vast throng that accom- raried us. We entered the lowest court, called the Ccurt of the Gentiles, because men of all nations have access to it. Tts limits are sharoly, almost brutally defined by two pillars of marble bearing inscriptions, the one In Latin, the other in Greek, warn- ing the Gentiles to halt there; that to go further and enter the nigher Holy Place mbens death. Except for the absence of paintings and_statuary, this court is the ¢qual to any in Rome, and, together with -t'hf- entire Temple, is the pride of all e Here is_held what may be termed the market of the Temple, for here are kept and sold all sorts of objects of sacrifice— cxen. sheep, lambs, doves, wine, ofl, in- cense, salt and corn. At times of great feasts, notably the Passover, the Temple is thronged with people from the four uarters of the earth. who bring with them a great variety of coin. Now, since the Temple tribute, ‘which can be avoided by none. is pavable only in the Jewish talf-shekel, money-changers here ply a brisk trade, and are allowed, by way of reward, one twenty-fourth of the value of what they exchange, even though they or;l‘,\' give two half-shekels for a g or vailed, witkin the precincts of the build dedi- cated to the worship of the Most High. Arnas hath booths for the sale of Tem- ple supniles hard by. on the side of ount Olivet, and is. besides, according to common report, interested in the pro- ceeds of the great Temple market in the Ccurt of the Gentiles. Many times had the Master witnessed the same scene and listened to the lowing of cattle, the bicatin; the cooing and fluttering of had he h regarded them as he that bright afternocon—for it was now gy e 1 realized how s watcl im accurate had been my Arst ectimate ou the shore of Lake Galilee that he was a man of varying mood, capable of playing more than one part. ¥ t was at first but a shade of annoyance upon his face Aeeneaned speedily to indigration, touched ted rage. I had seen him ed, but never like m:i' g\lwom with mingl fear. ~"Seven gerahs,” said an old man by, who was in the act of examining a m’u ‘)'amb. which ‘he doubtless wished to ”5:" for the approaehing feast. “Eight gerahs,” said the other. retorted the stallkeeper, bekah,” replied the keecper of the stall, “not a lepton less.” theEhwily Cl(y,h 11 give no more.” y & t gerahs, indeed.” Samaritan. I fancy I saw thee at Dothan as I drove my flock thro cor scattering the coins over 11 an instant confusion and consterna~ tion reigned conjointly. Those in fromt started back affrighted, while those be- hind crowded forward to obtain a better view. " cried a temple guard. “Hast a devil > ““It stands written,” said the Master, his voice rising above the din and clatter and penetrating the furthest limits of the vast inclosure: ** ‘My house 1 be ed a house of prayer, but ye have made it a den of thieves!”” s Temple Julrds‘ merchants, money- changers, all retreated before these skill- fuly blended words of Isaiah and Jere- , and the majestic, awful look of the speaker. In a moment they were se- curing their money, animals and other effects, preparatory to a speedy exodus from the sacred place they had so long profaned. He needed to say no more: all under- stood the lesson, all knew by what au= thority he spake, as though he had pro- claimed himseif the long-expected Mes- siah. The vast court could not have been quicker cleared of mercnants and mer- chandise had the broad colored stone slabs that constitute the floor begun to rise and writhe, the white marbie cbl- umns to totter and the heavy, ornate cedar roof to fall under the action of a id the Master, as the last ox was driven from the place, “let us also go hence.” As I turned to leave I cast one linger- ing glance around and saw, standing be- side one of the pillars that marks the furthest point to which a Gentile may go a group of white-faced priests, and among them recognized the scowiing face o{‘ the master of the temple, Joseph Caia- phas. 1 The Lord waited not to assemble his humerous company, but, atterded by few save the tweive, hastened toward Beth- any, cressing the Mount of Olives on the way. The Seribes and the Pharisees jeer- ed and mocked, but the people applauded as he passed. He has taken the first bold step toward asserting his divine au- thority, and been successful beyond my wildest hopes. His triumph seems now assured. He ‘hath taught in the temple, and that in the strongest manner, the difference between true af false relig- on, and won the approval of the people. The kingdom of heaven is surely at hand —and yet I, cannot forget the scowling face of Joseph Caiaphas, the high priest. 1v. This morning, being the tenth day of Nisan, we all went into the city and re- paired to the temple, many of Bethany accompanying us. Always thronged dur- ing the great feast, I have never seen it 8o crowded. Gathered in little groups, many of the most prominent Pharisees were evidently awaiting our appearance, Among them I noted some Herodians, or adherents of Herod Antipas. Strictly speaking, they are Sadducees, since, for the most part, they reject the doetrine of the resurrection, and their presence with the Pharisees suggested that a combina- tion was forming against the er, since naught save a strong common mo- tive could mix these two naturally war- ring elements. Suddenly a young man, evidently & learner and a zealot, ste?ped forward, an;id. making a most profound salaam, said: “‘Master, we know that thou regardest not the person of men, neither carest for censure, but teachest the way of God in truth. Give us, therefore, thy judgment. Is it lawful to pay tribute unto Caesar, or not?" A more adroit trap could have bien devised. If Re Answered Ses. ho would lose almost his last adherent among the people, for they all hated the. name of Caesar and looked upon the pay- ment of tribute as the badge of a most galling slayery. If on the other hand, he deelared against the right of the emperor to exaet the hated, though quite moder- ate, capitation-tax of a denarius, wouM be guilty of treason, and the Ro- mans would surely put him to death. Not a sound was heard, save the restless shuf- fling of sandaled feet, for all within hear- ing realized the fearful importance of the expected answer. I had no fear that the youth and seem- ing ingenuousness of the inquirer would deceive the Master, and his hopeful ene- mies were not long in doubt. ‘*Why tempt ye me, ye hypoerites?” he asked,” sternly, looking from the mild- faced spokesman to the gray-bearded sneerers behind him. “Show mg a denari- us. The young man, who had see not noticed the word hypocrites, took from his purge a silver coin, which he handed to the Master. Since the days of Augus- tus, the Romans, who are ever politic in their treatment of conquered nations, par- ticularly where kindness does not atfect their revenues, out of consideratfon for the Jewish faith and the well-known He- brew abhorrence of all images, have caused special coins to be made for circu- lation in Judea. These bear o the name of the Emperor, and certain Jewish symbois. Now, the denarius produced by the young man was not of this sort, but, one that bore the image of Tiberius Cae- sar, and mutely, yet most forcibly, pro= claimed the domination of Rome. If the crafty Pharisees and Herodians expected to see a look of abhorrence take possession of the Lord's face at sight of the hated and idolatrous image, they were disappointed. He examined it critically, hand, turning it over several times in his before he spoke. ‘“Whose is this image and this super- scription?” He asked at length. ““Caesar’s,” replied the youthful unable to restrain his eagerness to an- swer. The Master again looked at both sides of the coin, then handed it back to its owner and said, most solemnly: ““Then give the things of Caesar to Cae~ ear and the things of God to God.” There was a look of dismay upon the faces of the baffled con: tors as the young man returned to his purse the coin he had doubtless secured for the express purpose of confounding the Lord. The throng exchanged disgusted glances left that part of Solomon’s porch the incident occurred. In all the pride of his intellectual glory, Solomon never gave utterance to words of Nor had the Lord an- swered craft with less evasion. He_acquiesced in the payment of tribute and consequent domination of Rome, but it by epjoining to God, ams treating the power of Rome as law- ful, use el by $he - and wisdom of God. car- ried somethi i they and ' ha.th-ienfltbwn:!méohlumfluhh subjects ators. OFor ‘some time the Master conttnued Fo; teaching in_Solomon’s porch, urging hxer’;‘to repent of their sins pare for an fltrlm into the