ell, but others do not understand that, and nothing you do
will avail. Let people be happy in their own way. If formerly they
went to Abraham, they will continue to find their way to him without
your help. Don't interfere with the Rabbis; that never pays. Think of
John the Baptist! Every one is saying that they are lying in wait for
you. Oh, my beloved child, they will disgrace you, and kill you!" She
clutched the rock convulsively with her fingers, and could say no more
for bitter weeping.

Jesus turned His head to her, and looked at her. And when her whole
body shook with sobs, He rose and went to her. He took her head in
both His hands and drew it towards Him.

"Mother! mother!--mother!" His voice was dull and broken: "You think I
do not love you. I am sometimes obliged to be thus harsh, for
everything is against Me, even My own kith and kin. But I must fulfil
the will of the Heavenly Father. Dry your tears; see, I love you, more
than any human heart can understand. Because the mother suffers double
what the child suffers, so is your pain greater than that of Him who
must sacrifice Himself for many. Mother! Sit down on this stone so
that I may once again lay My head in your lap. It is My last rest."

So He laid His head on her knees, and she stroked His long hair
tenderly. She was so happy, in the midst of her grief, so absolutely
happy, that He should lie on her breast as He did when a child.

But He went on, speaking gently and softly; "I have preached to the
people in vain about faith in Me. I need not preach to you, for a
mother believes in her child. They will all testify against Me.
Mother, do not believe them. Believe your child. And when the hour
comes for Me to appear with outstretched arms, not on earth and not in
heaven, believe then in your child. Be sure then that your carpenter
has built the Kingdom of God. No, mother, do not weep; look up with
bright eyes. Your day will be everlasting. The poor, those forsaken
by every heaven, will pour out their woes to you, the blessed, the rich
in grace! All the races of the earth will _praise_ you!" He kissed
her hair, He kissed her eyes, and sobbed Himself. "And now go, mother.
My friends are waking. They must not see Me cast down."

He arose from this sweet rest. The disciples raised their heads one
after another.

"Did you get some rest, Master?" asked Simon.

He answered: "Better rest than you had."

A messenger who had b