for a space, the flame of faith springs up. At such times the soul is lit up by its flashes. Dark things stand out defined and clear; comfort and warmth and rest are there. But the flame needs feeding. And, alas! the watcher tires, there is no heaping on of fuel, no stirring of the dead embers, so the light dies out.
But, in the heart of Lazarus, faith was awake for evermore; faith strengthened by the evidence of things, not unseen, but seen; to him who had longed to believe had been vouchsafed the greatest blessing of all—to know.
For many days the sisters left him quiet, for there was that in his expression which silenced questioning. Great deputations came from far and wide to question him. Lawyers, scribes, Pharisees, all flocked to ask him what his sensations had been at the moment of his death and what on his return to life. Had he been to heaven and seen the Living God? Had he been to Hades and seen the spirits that await the Judgment Day, or had he been to hell and spoken there with Satan? Each, according to his belief or sect, asked for more knowledge; but to all Lazarus only shook his head and answered: "If I told you, ye would not believe. Ye would say I had dreamed a dream."
Then, one evening, Martha exclaimed fretfully: "Methinks there was little gain in thy death and resurrection, if thou hast naught to tell us."
Naught to show the world? Lazarus took on a look of unutterable grief at Martha's words.
"Thou knowest not what thou sayest," he answered her; and, while he spoke, his gaze was raised
