And, floating on the evening air, interwoven with the scent of flowers and cedar wood, had come the question: "Why callest thou Me good? there is none good but one, that is, God."
It was as if the voice had said, "Thou givest Me the attribute of God, yet believest not that I am He."
Then, knowing that He spoke to one well versed in the Mosaic Law, the Nazarene had gone on in a tone of pity, mingled with a little scorn—as though implying, "Hast thou not enough in thy religion to save thee that thou comest to Me?—"Thou knowest the commandments, Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Defraud not, Honour thy father and thy mother."
And then Lazarus, with tears almost in his voice, as though he feared the guidance to eternal life were not forthcoming, had replied: "Master, all these things have I observed from my youth."
Then Jesus had perceived that in this man there lacked one thing only. The love of Christ was in him. The wish to know the religion He came to preach, the sighing and longing after righteousness, the yearning for salvation, all these were his, but he was hampered by the luxury that incites to indolence, the love of comfort that fetters action. He was a philosophic dreamer only, and as so many are, believing, trusting, hoping, but hanging back, for fear of what he might lose of temporal wealth and earthly pleasures, perhaps of social position. And Jesus had known all this, and in His heart there had come a longing that this yearning soul should be one of
