rist, the very Son of God. But, unlike Him, my son is only
human, with weaknesses that are our common lot.

"The years are flying, and strength is failing! I must die soon and he
will live. That thought burns my brain, passing through it day by day.
His life may be long extended and he cannot live alone, nor among
men, for he would be a stranger and friendless--feared and dreaded by
superstitious fools. He has never seen a human face outside these walls
nor heard a human voice but mine. I have told you my trouble."

He ceased writing, but before I had finished reading the statement some
strange influence came over me. I felt restless and uncomfortable. My
hand was shaking so that I could scarcely read the words on the last
sheet of paper. Suddenly I raised my eyes and saw a young man, godlike
in form and feature, standing at my side. His face wore an expression of
indescribable eloquence. As familiar as he afterward became to me, I
can never forget the first impression which that magnificent human being
made upon my mind, as he stood there--radiating a power that I felt to
the tips of my fingers. What favored son of man was this confronting
me, born to such an inheritance of majesty and grace? I asked myself,
regarding him with amazement. He had eyes dark as night, set under a
broad forehead, about which wavy masses of tawny hair fell gracefully.
His stately form was erect and firm as a statue. For a moment his eyes
looked into mine; then he advanced and took my hand. Tenderly he pressed
it to his lips, stepping back as he did so and looking at me with
a half-curious, half-amused expression. I was so startled by the
unexpected appearance of this remarkable figure that I had not, until
now, noticed that a large lion had followed him into the room and was
lying quietly at his feet. I was not afraid; indeed, the king of beasts
seemed but a part of the man's masterful presence. I do not think I
would have seen the animal but that his enormous body was lying directly
before my eyes on the floor. My uncle had been sitting with his head
resting upon his hand at the table. Suddenly he rose and a strange,
guttural sound--it may have been a word from some language wholly
unfamiliar to me--passed his lips. The young man immediately left us,
the lion following closely at his heels. We both sat in silence for some
moments after he had gone. My mind had felt strange exhilaration in his
presence, and I rubbed my eyes to make sure that