ed to see once more the ground where they
had possessed Him whom they loved, well assured in advance of meeting
him again there.

The majority of the disciples then departed, full of joy and hope,
perhaps in the company of the caravan which took back the pilgrims from
the Feast of the Passover. What they hoped to find in Galilee were not
only transient visions, but Jesus himself to continue with them, as he
had done before his death. An intense expectation filled their souls.
Was he going to restore the kingdom of Israel, to found definitely the
kingdom of God, and, as was said, "reveal his justice"? Everything was
possible. They already called to mind the smiling landscapes where they
had enjoyed his presence. Many believed that he had given to them a
rendezvous upon a mountain, probably the same to which with them there
clung so many sweet recollections. Never, it is certain, had there been
a more pleasant journey. All their dreams of happiness were on the point
of being realized. They were going to see him once more! And, in fact,
they did see him again. Hardly restored to their harmless chimeras, they
believed themselves to be in the midst of the gospel-dispensation
period. It was now drawing near to the end of April. The ground is then
strewn with red anemones, which were probably those "lilies of the
fields" from which Jesus delighted to draw his similes. At each step his
words were brought to mind, adhering, as it were, to the thousand
accidental objects they met by the way. Here was the tree, the flower,
the seed, from which he had taken his parables; there was the hill on
which he delivered his most touching discourses; here was the little
ship from which he taught. It was like the recommencement of a beautiful
dream--like a vanished illusion which had reappeared. The enchantment
seemed to revive. The sweet Galilean "Kingdom of God" had recovered its
sway. The clear atmosphere, the mornings upon the shore or upon the
mountain, the nights passed on the lakes watching the nets, all these
returned again to them in distinct visions. They saw him everywhere
where they had lived with him. Of course it was not the joy of the first
enjoyment. Sometimes the lake had to them the appearance of being very
solitary. But a great love is satisfied with little. If all of us, while
we are alive, could surreptitiously, once a year, and during a moment
long enough to exchange but a few words, behold again those loved ones
whom we