then were. He had been absent by the bedside of a sick person at the time of the miracle, and had treated the announcement of Lazarus's resurrection with a scorn and derision not unnatural in the circumstances. Yet, when he saw his patient reclining as usual on his couch, a great amazement seized him.
"Who, then, is this Man?" he asked Lazarus breathlessly.
"A Physician of the Soul," replied Lazarus. "One who for healing needeth no medicine and no herb."
"Verily 'tis a wondrous thing," said Kishish. But he too was powerless to believe the simplicity of the act. Rather would he believe that he had been wrong in pronouncing that life had fled; would confess that he had erred, rather than believe. Faltering, failing, presumptuous humanity that can explain nothing, yet fails to believe what it cannot understand! Truly had the Lord pronounced words of verity when He had said: "If they believe not Moses and the prophets, neither will they believe though one came from the dead."
Yes, the great miracle was over, Lazarus alive, the signs of mourning were wiped away. The wailing had ceased, once more peace and gladness reigned in the home at Bethany, and already it seemed as though all that had happened had been a dream. The brain and heart of man lack the capacity to hold so great a miracle; and humanity is so prone to obstinacy that, even when its right course is pointed out, it soon glides back into its old grooves, its old understandings, its old stagnation, and the divine fire in it smoulders dully or goes out. Occasionally,
