For his fleshly body to rise again would not be unmixed happiness. It would mean to have suffered the pains of death without entering into rest or peace or joy. It would mean the being made the witness of Christ's work on earth. It would mean a repetition of his sufferings, and, later, a second dissolution of the body; perhaps, also, a prolonging of existence beyond the ordinary span of life, and, therefore, extra suffering. It would mean, further, life made more intolerable by the knowledge of eternity and the impossibility of persuading men of what he knew. Above all, it would mean a greater responsibility as regards the daily actions of life—to him that seeth is the greater sin.
There must have been something infinitely sweet in the appearance of Lazarus; for when the Lord looked on him He loved him. The Nazarene, weary with infidelity, worn out by disbelief, distressed, perhaps (who knows?), that most of His followers were of the lower class, uneducated, and therefore the more obstinate in their superstitions, in their understanding the more obtuse; overwrought with the intricate controversies that the Pharisees had forced upon Him, hoping to entangle Him, had turned in very weariness towards the little children who stood about as though inspired with added hope by the fresh eagerness of their faces; as if to illustrate, by their meek trustingness, the only possible means of peace.
"Suffer the little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of Heaven." Who can tell the weariness of trying to force by controversy and argument the acceptance of a proposition that was so simple? "Verily I say
