the fires of such an offering. And I doubt not that he had meditated on the matter, and marvelled at the religious enthusiasm it denoted, and fallen a-wondering whether some gift like that might not be acceptable also to his God. Then came the commandment from Heaven about Isaac, and the altar on Mount Moriah, and the ram; and Abraham learned that the surrender of a life was a different thing in God's sight from the ending of it. He was taught that it is not the outpouring of the blood, it is the obedient spirit that gives the worth to sacrifice. He saw that God may claim all that is ours, and yet may claim it not for destruction, but for fuller life. So was he educated to larger and purer thoughts, not by any sweet and silent meditation, but by the testing of this mountain-hour. Are we not all educated in kindred ways? Sooner or later does not God call us from our ease, and send us (like Abraham) to a highland school? For it is not only by the thoughts we think that we arrive at the clearest and the happiest views of God; it is by temptation, it is through trial and testing, it is by obedience to the sterner call, and by patience in. the bearing of the cross.

OBSERVE, too, the secrets that separate us as we

journey. As Abraham went up the hill with Isaac, his fatherly heart would yearn over his son. And the high spirits of the lad, and his merry laugh, and the glad speech of his unsuspecting innocence, all this would stab Abraham as deeply as Abraham's knife could ever stab his son. How closely and fondly were they knit together! How strong were the bonds of love between these lives! Yet what a world there was between them as they climbed, and what thoughts in the bosom of Abraham of which Isaac knew nothing! So does that far-off journey to the hills become a parable of the road we are all travelling, for we travel it in the closest of relationships, yet there is that in each heart that cannot

be made plain. Betwixt the nearest and dearest, as they breast life's slope together, there is much that cannot be voiced in human speech; a certain loneliness is quite inevitable, no matter how warm the love be that encircles. No doubt that will all pass away, when the summit level of the climb is reached. Then we shall know even as we are known. Meantime we must press heavenward in life's glad fellowship, as Abraham went with Isaac up the hill, nor murmur if there be that in us, and others, that can neither be conveyed nor understood.

LASTLY, note that God makes provision in the nick

of time; it was so He furnished the ram for the burnt-offering. It was when Abraham's faith had been tested to the utmost, it was when Isaac's self-surrender was complete-it was then that in the thicket in the background Abraham discovered God's provided sacrifice. God gives, when all is ready for the giving. God gives when every preparation is complete. There is a fitting moment for every gift of God, and never before, nor after, is it sent. In that faith Abraham lived from this great hour. In that faith let us, too, face the morrow. It will keep us happy. It will make us restful. It will give us courage to endure, and peace to die.

IT

TENTH SUNDAY

Evening

THE CURE OF THE NOBLEMAN'S SON

Passage to be read: John iv. 43-54.

T is to be noted that all the miracles in this Gospel, with the exception of those of the Loaves and the Walking on the Sea, are found in this Gospel only. We know that if all the works which Jesus did were

written, the world itself could not contain the books thereof, and John was led to choose, for us, such deeds and such words of Jesus, as should embody great principles in themselves, and should not overlap the testimony of others. The life of Jesus is like the world we live in, there is room in it for the joyful use of all our gifts, and when we are rooted and grounded in love, as this apostle was, we shall have little heart to interfere with others. The last miracle that we considered was that of Cana—it was the beginning of the showing of His glory. This miracle is a beginning too-it is the beginning of the Galilean ministry. A thing well begun is half done, we say-note the noble beginnings of our Saviour's ministry. Observe, too, that our Lord began exactly as He meant to go on. I have known folk beginning with enthusiasm, but in a little while how listless and dull they grew! Remember that whether it be in work or play that is not the spirit of our Master. All through His life, and all through the after-centuries, our Lord has been turning the water into wine; He has never ceased to respond to the cry of faith, nor to be a healer of worse sicknesses than fever. It is no chance, then, that with such displays of power His glory and His Galilean ministry began.

So Jesus was at Cana of Galilee again, and you can

hardly wonder that the people received Him eagerly. You may depend upon it that the servants who had borne the waterpots, as they sat of an evening in the inn at Cana, would never weary of recounting what had happened when they had filled the vessels with water to the brim. The news of this mystery had travelled far; it had entered the doors of the palace of Herod Antipas; and some had wondered, and some had scoffed, and some had jestingly wished they had been there. But there was one courtier, or king's officer, at Herod's court, who pondered deeply on this so

marvellous story, and when rumours came of Jesus in Judæa, and of all He had done at Jerusalem during feast-time (v. 45), he sifted them out, and dwelt on them in secret. Until at last, in the court of Herod Antipas (one of the unlikeliest places in the world), there was a heart that had begun to clamber upwards into the first glimmerings of faith. And then the son of this nobleman fell ill; physicians were useless, he was at the point of death. How vapid and vain was all the showy courtlife, when there rang through it, in a voice he loved so well, the wild and delirious cries of raging fever! So oftentimes an illness may be used to tear away the tapestries around us, and to lead us from the chamber of our worldly hopes, into the presence of the living Christ. The nobleman came to Cana and we know what followed. If there is life in a look, there is life too in a word. The smoking flax was handled as only Christ could handle it, till the flame (of faith) in this strong heart burned clear. The incident took place at one o'clock; the courtier set out for Capernaum immediately. The sun set, and a new day began, for with the Jew the day begins at sunset. And then his servants met him with faces of such radiance that the father had not to ask what was their news; and 'Yesterday' they said (or as we should say 'To-day '), 'at one o'clock the fever left him.' That was an hour (to use the words of Jesus) when Capernaum was exalted unto heaven. In one of its homes, at any rate, that evening, there was a very heaven of joy and love and gratitude. It was the second miracle which Jesus did in Galilee, and it also was a turning of water into wine.

NOTE

OTE first, then, as springing from this matchless story, how we may neglect the evidence of quiet years. 'Except ye see signs and wonders,' said Jesus to the courtier, and as He spoke He would turn to the people also Except ye see signs and wonders, ye will not

believe.' Now what, think you, did Jesus mean by that? I think He meant something of this kind. 'I was among you,' He meant, 'during my years of childhood, I spent my opening and my ripening manhood here; and I was the same then as I am to-day, had you only had spiritual eyes to recognise Me; but you would not receive Me, I had no honour among you, till I went to Judæa and wrought these mighty deeds, and now (though I am the same yesterday and to-day) you welcome Me gladly for the signs and wonders.' Let us learn then to have an open eye in the years when God is moving among us quietly. Let us not wait for occurrences that startle, ere we give a welcome to the Light of men. In the countless providences of the common week, in the texts we read in the quiet of eventide, in the hymns we sing, in the preaching we hear, in all God's daily love and kindness to us, there is a call to every one of us, ' My son, give Me thine heart.'

THEN note, as signally illustrated here, how true faith

is followed by activity. It was a journey of faith from Capernaum to Cana, it was not less so from Cana to Capernaum. All the love in the world for the poor boy would never have led the father Cana-wards, unless within him there had been some spark of faith in the power and willingness of Jesus. Remember then that when a faith is real, working by love it will go forth in action. Remember too that there is no such source of action, nor anything so sure to make it high and noble, as an underlying faith in God's dear Son. It matters not what the children are going to be-sailors, soldiers, teachers, mechanics, nurses-whatever it is, they will do it all the more worthily, with purer motives, with more victorious gladness, if they begin life with the prayer of him who cried, 'Lord, I believe; help Thou mine unbelief.'