when the voice of the Restorer shall be heard uttering the
omnipotent "_Come forth!_" and to His angel assessors the mandate shall
be given regarding the thronging myriads of risen dead, "_Loose them and
let them go!_"

XIV.

UNBELIEF.

Man--short-sighted man--often raises impossibilities when God does not.
It is hard for rebellious unbelief to lie submissive and still. In
moments when the spirit might well be overawed into silence, it gives
utterance to its querulous questionings and surmisings rather than
remain obedient at the feet of Christ, reposing on the sublime aphorism,
"All things are possible to him that believeth." In the mind of Martha,
where faith had been so recently triumphant, doubt and unbelief have
begun again to insinuate themselves. This "Peter of her sex" had
ventured out boldly on the water to meet her Lord. She had owned Him as
the giver of life, and triumphed in Him as her Saviour! But now she is
beginning to sink. A natural difficulty presents itself to her mind
about the removal of the incumbent grave-stone. She avers how needless
its displacement would be, as by this time corruption must have begun
its fatal work. Four brief days only had elapsed since the eye of
Lazarus had beamed with fraternal affection. Now these lips must be
"saying to corruption, Thou art my father; to the worm, Thou art my
mother and my sister." Death, she felt, must now be stamping his
impressive mockery on that cherished earthly friendship, and, attired in
his most terrible insignia, putting the last fatal extinguisher on the
glimmerings of her faith and hope. "What need is there, Lord," she seems
to say, "for this redundant labour? My brother is far beyond the reach
even of a voice like Thine. Why excite vain expectations in my breast
which never can be realised? That grave has closed upon him for the 'for
ever' of time. Nothing now can revoke the sentence, or reanimate the
silent dust, save the trump of God on the final day."[16]

Thus blindly did Martha reason. She can see no other object her Redeemer
can have for the removal of the stone, save to gaze once more on a form
and countenance He loved. Both for His sake, and the strangers
assembled, she recoils from the thought of disclosing so humiliating a
sight.

Alas! how little are fitful frames and feelings to be trusted. Only a
few brief moments before, she had made a noble protestation of her faith
in the presence of her Lord. His own majestic utt