up thy bed,
and walk. And immediately the man was made whole, and took up his bed,
and walked."[20]

[Footnote 20: There was another case of Christ's healing a paralytic,
but as on that occasion the sick man's bed was let down through the
roof into a house, the incident does not fit the picture so well as
that of Bethesda.]

This is the incident illustrated by our picture. Jesus has already
brought the paralytic to his feet, and now sends him on his way. Two
other men complete the group, but take no part in the conversation.
One is a disciple, perhaps John, who accompanies the Master, the other
is a spectator peering curiously over the paralytic's shoulder.

The restored paralytic carries under one arm a rug, which has been
clumsily rolled into a bundle. This is the sort of "bed" used among
the poor of Eastern countries. He is but half clad in a garment which
slips from his shoulders, showing his emaciated form. The face is
sharpened by suffering; he is altogether a strange and repulsive
figure. Like the beggar who lay in St. Martin's path he represents a
degraded class of humanity.

He leans now towards his unknown friend in a pitiable effort to
express his gratitude. The eyes have a look of dumb devotion like
those of a faithful dog. He lays one hand humbly upon his breast.
Jesus turns to the poor creature with an expression of infinite
compassion. He reads the man's heart with his searching glance. Thanks
he does not need; his first care is to send the man forth to begin
life anew.

[Illustration: CHRIST AND THE PARALYTIC
_Buckingham Palace_]

The head of the Saviour is painted after the ideal portrait which has
been handed down from generation to generation since the early days of
Christianity. The oval face with classical features, the full beard,
the long hair parted in the middle, such are the familiar features
which we have all come to associate with the person of Jesus. Yet
notwithstanding this general similarity in the many pictures of
Christ, every great artist has brought out something different in the
face.

It was Titian's peculiar glory to show the intellectual side of our
Lord's character as no other Italian had done. Van Dyck, with
characteristic admiration for the great Venetian, followed his
example. If we compare our illustration with Titian's Christ of the
Tribute Money[21] we shall see how closely the former imitates the
latter. Yet, as no man of imagination can copy exactly another's wo