M

HEALING ONE SICK OF THE PALSY (Luke v. 18-26; Matt. ix. 2-8; Mark ii. 3—12). EN brought in a bed (Luke v. 18). The word "bed" does not signify a couch as with us, but merely a pallet or rug, such as could be easily rolled up and carried. Bedsteads were altogether unknown in the East. This explains our Lord's subsequent command: “Arise, take up thy couch," and the recovered man's easy compliance with it.

"A man which was taken with a palsy." The palsy was what we now call paralysis-a cessation of the

nervous action.

"They went upon the housetop." The roofs in the East were flat, and in the evening served as a place for sitting to enjoy the cool air and engaging in conversation. Hence our Lord says in another place, "What is whispered in the ear in closets, shall be proclaimed upon the housetops;" that is, what is told in private shall be spoken of when people meet together to talk.

"Let him down through the tiling." This does not signify, as at first sight might appear, that the tiling of the roof was torn up, so as to let the man's bed down; but there generally was an opening in the roof, by which persons could reach it, and this poor sufferer's friends availed themselves of this as a mode of entrance to reach Christ, when they could not get through the crowd which thronged the ordinary doorway. To reach the roof they probably went through some neighbouring house, and made their way from one flat housetop to the next.

“The scribes and Pharisees began to reason, saying," &c. The scribes were, those who used to make copies of the law-the word "scribe" literally means a writer. Like the Pharisees, who so often appear as opponents of Jesus, they were more zealous about the letter than about the spirit of Scripture. The scribes and Pharisees together composed the chief court of the Jews, which was called the Sanhedrim. In St. Mark's account of this incident, he says that the scribes reasoned thus "in their hearts," and that Jesus perceived that they so reasoned "within themselves." We would conclude from this that they did not openly express their objections; and it is clear that though St. Luke uses the word "saying," that he only means that if their thoughts and whisperings had been spoken out, they would have used such words, for he immediately adds, "But when Jesus perceived their thoughts."

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sins were forgiven or not. The claim to forgive sins could afford no evidence as to a man's being an impostor or not; but if a man claiming Divine power were to say, "Rise up and walk," every one could see whether his word was or was not with power-whether the man was or was not healed; so that assuming as they did Jesus to have been a deceiver, he really had said a very much easier thing for a deceiver to say when he told the man, "Thy sins be forgiven thee," than he should have said had he at once told the man to be healed of his disease.

"Thy sins be forgiven thee" was not a prayer that his sins might be forgiven, but an actual declaration that they were; so the bystanders understood it, and so Christ himself explained it, when he told them that the "Son of man had power upon earth to forgive sins."

"He said unto the sick of the palsy." He had given an invisible proof of his Divine power, that had only caused cavilling and excited hatred; he now would give a visible demonstration of that power, so as to silence his adversaries.

"And they were all amazed." The word in the Greek is, they were all in an ecstasy." When these men found their poor friend helpless, they at once brought him to Jesus. That is the very best thing and the kindest thing any one of us can do for another. Whatever the sorrow, the trial, the suffering of any one of ourselves, or of our brethren in the world, he will be willing to help and to heal us. Every sorrow should send us to the feet of Christ; every sorrow of one of our friends should make us try and bring them thither.

When they could not get to Christ by the direct and easy way, they went up on the roof. "Where there's a will there's a way." Do not let us be hindered from coming to Jesus, or from bringing others to him, by obstacles. If we really feel that we want him, want his Divine love, and power, and pardon, we will find some means of coming to him. These men brought their suffering brother that he might be healed of his paralysis of body, and he was healed of his paralysis of soul also-his sins were forgiven him. We have only to come to Christ believing, and he will even give us far more abundantly than we can dare to hope for or to pray for. Thus considered, this miracle becomes to us "Whether is easier to say, Thy sins be forgiven thee; not merely a proof of the Saviour's Divine power, or to say, Rise up and walk?" To answer this question, but an exposition of his Divine love; a power as and to see the force of it, we must remember that the great and a love as abounding to sinners now that argument of Christ's opponents was that he was an our Lord has ascended up on high, having led "capimpostor. Now for an impostor claiming to be Divine tivity captive," as it was eighteen hundred years it would have been easier to say, Thy sins be ago, when, " despised and rejected of men," he forgiven thee," for no one could prove whether the walked the roads of Palestine.

W

"She may win him yet "-p. 63.

66

HIS BY RIGHT.

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BY ALTON CLYDE, AUTHOR OF UNDER FOOT," JOHN HESKETH'S CHARGE," ETC. ETC.

With him life moved in such

ILL you be glad for him to come ?" It did not | in his eager manner.
occur to Bessie that there was a particular an even groove that she was accustomed to see him
getting excited over any event that turned it aside.
The question seemed to her quite natural under the

meaning in this question, which the old man asked
so earnestly; nor did she find any matter for surprise

VOL. VII.

320

circumstances. He was fond of his nephew, and of course desirous that his own pleasure in the prospect of the coming visit should extend to her. So it was that she answered in her simple direct way, with a sweet low laugh, that made a musical accompaniment to her words, "Glad! why, uncle, you might know that without asking. I am always glad to see Gerald."

It was evident that she spoke as she felt, but the old man was not quite satisfied, the great eyes bore his scrutiny too well-he would rather have seen them droop under their dusky fringes; and there was none of the blushing self-consciousness which he would have known how to interpret. It was thus that any loving sister might have spoken of a dear absent brother, nothing less nor more. He smothered a sigh as he released her hands. However he might desire the union of those two lives, he knew he could not will that the two young people should love each other. It was then, when fear of the possible overthrow of his cherished hopes was first pressed upon his mind, that he realised how much his own peace was concerned in their failure or sucHis object was to ensure the happiness of the two whom he loved best in the world, and at the same time secure a disposition of his property that would relieve him of all care and anxiety respecting it. He had for some years entertained the idea of the marriage of his adopted daughter, and his nephew, Gerald Darley. There might be no cause for despair, they were both young, and had seen but little of each other, and there was no prior attachment on either side. He must be patient, and bide his time. This flower-show would be the means of bringing them into each other's society, and there was no telling what might follow. "She is as good as she is beautiful," he murmured to himself; "and if I was Gerald I would not beat about the bush and run the risk of losing her."

cess.

Fortifying himself with these reflections, Lewis Darley had wisely determined to leave the question where he found it, and not startle the shy, sensitive girl by more decided approaches to the subject, which since his interview with the stranger at the railwaystation, had been more than ever engrossing his thoughts.

In reply to his uncle's letter, Gerald Darley had written to say that, all being well, he might be expected to make his appearance at Abbey House in time for the flower-show.

The old man carried this letter to Bessie, and was well satisfied with the pleasure which it seemed to afford her. "Affections disengaged; no rival in the field. With such chances in his favour, he could not see why Gerald should not win her if he tried."

He said this to himself as he watched her reading the letter, thinking in his heart that the world could not show a lovelier face than hers.

there was a visible change in the old man's manner. His moroseness disappeared; instead of shutting himself in his room, he took cheerful walks with Bessie, and even made efforts at amateur gardening under her laughing superintendence. Then he astonished Philis by extravagant suggestions about the larder, and such unprecedented liberality in the treatment of the housekeeping accounts, that the old servant took alarm on her master's account, and privately confided to Phoebe her opinion that it wasn't natural, and she was afraid something was wrong with his head.

It was the evening before the flower-show, and true to his promise Gerald Darley had arrived, bringing with him an infusion of new life from the busy world in which he lived and worked. His presence gave another aspect to the old house, where a few minutes made him as completely at home as though he had never left it for a day. It was like letting in a fresh mountain breeze to have him circulating through the grave old rooms, filling them with his bright animated talk, and the sound of his pleasant laugh. He even penetrated to the kitchen with a greeting that took Philis by storm. But there he was sure of indulgence, for he rivalled even Bessie in the favour of the old woman, who had never a cross or disparaging word for the handsome young doctor.

Lewis Darley appeared at his best that evening. The look of the dry, wrinkled bookworm was lost in that of the affable host, bent upon exerting himself for the pleasure of his guest.

"Now, my boy, that you have renewed acquaintance with everything, even to the old tabby, suppose we go back to the parlour and see what Philis will give us to eat?"

Gerald laughingly assented and followed his uncle. The great oak-panelled parlour, with its heavy furniture and prevailing air of gloom, had struck Gerald as a contrast to the bright, sociable sittingroom at Dr. Ward's, and on his first entrance he could not help making an involuntary comparison between them, but it had been quickly checked. The place represented home to him, and that evening he was prepared to make himself happy in any corner of the grim old house. The only bit of relieving colour which the room possessed was given by the flowers with which Bessie had decorated it, and the presence of the young girl herself, striking enough to stand out as a picture to which the rest became merely unimportant accessories. She seemed the centre of light and attraction, as Gerald saw her sitting in one of the quaint high-backed chairs, her supple white fingers engaged on a bit of delicate lace work, and the gleaming of the lamp falling on her bent head-a quiet figure, but full of artistic grace, from the hem of her skirt to the knot of ribbon at her throat. Her dress was demure enough to

As the day for his nephew's arrival drew near, be Quaker-like-a simple stuff of some light grey

HIS BY RIGHT.

colour, that looked refreshingly soft and cool in contrast with the sombre hues that surrounded her.

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shining silk, which seemed a meeting of silver gleams and soft, undecided waves of colour that reminded him of the delicate flushes in the heart of a seashell.

Her appearance gladdened the old man's heart, and almost dissipated the feeling of regret at allow

he had been secretly mourning over the "terrible waste of money." There was something almost childish in his evident admiration and delight. He caressed the delicately-gloved hand, saying gleefully to himself, "That it was just as he expected-his darling was going to outshine them all that day; and if Gerald was not an insensible block, he would do his best to make good his chance of winning the prize."

It was not beauty like Sylvia Ward's, that asserted itself at once and flashed upon the observer-brilliant, exacting admiration, but loveliness with a subtler charm, like a melody or a rare perfume-ing himself to be betrayed into such expenditure, for something that almost insensibly grew into appreciation, and wove about the senses like a spell. Gerald Darley was generally thought to be as yet uninfluenced by any tender weakness towards the sex. He usually gave to beautiful faces the same critical study which he bestowed upon a pieture; but that evening formed an exception; for once he forgot himself, and yielded his admiration without question. He was not surprised to see Bessie Grant growing up a beauty; but secluded as she had been from society, there was style and elegance about her which he had not expected to find. This was the impression she gave him as they sat and talked, both alike unconscious how eagerly the old man was watching them.

CHAPTER XIV.

SHE MAY WIN HIM YET."

Ir might have been a question for debate among the masculine portion of the gay crowd that streamed into the sun-lighted gardens on the morning of the flower-show, whether the palm of beauty was to be awarded to the exquisite floral treasures gathered on the stands, or to the not less lovely human flowers, whose presence formed an indispensable element in the day's success. It was not difficult to imagine a sort of kinship between those smiling crowds of rose-lipped, bright-eyed girls, and the fragrant sister blossoms with whom they seemed to be carrying on a sweet rivalry. They floated with a soft silken rustle through the tastefully-decorated tents, filling the perfume-laden air with a musical hum of sound, broken at intervals by a ripple of silvery laughter that seemed to have dangerous attraction for masculine ears.

The party from Abbey House were among the early arrivals. Miss Bessie's toilet had been the event of the morning to Philis Ford and her daughter Phoebe, who had hovered about her in a perpetual flutter of excitement, rather retarding than advancing progress by their excess of zeal. If Bessie had looked lovely to Gerald Darley in the demure Quaker-like dress of the previous evening, what was his impression when he saw her under a new aspect, dressed with the most perfect elegance and refined taste, yet looking as simple and pure as a lily of the valley wearing its snow-white gems? The effect was all that could be desired, leaving nothing to be altered or improved. He did not take the toilet in detail, but accepted it as a charming whole, deciding that he had never seen anything more exquisite than that

On their way to the gardens he renewed his silent, anxious watchfulness of the pair, listening while they talked, and eagerly marking little attentions which Gerald paid his adopted daughter, for his mind was still pursuing the subject which had the first place in his thoughts. How the fair girl would have blushed and shrank into herself, if his mental soliloquies had been translated into words.

"It seems only natural that they should like each other and marry; it would be best for both, and I am justified in doing all I can to bring about that end; and for Bessie it will be the only way of ensuring her safety in the future. My shy, sensitive bird! I could not go down to my grave in peace, and know that I was leaving her without some sure protection and shelter."

Several times during the conversation he caught the name of Sylvia Ward mentioned by Gerald in a manner that arrested his attention, and gave him an uncomfortable feeling, for it struck him that his nephew's words were more complimentary to the young lady than was necessary. Could it be that disappointment was really awaiting him now, when he was beginning to be most sanguine of successdisappointment, and from a quarter he had never taken into account, for in all his careful casting up of chances, he had never calculated upon the possibility of a prior engagement of his nephew's affections? He shifted his seat in the carriage to give him a better view of the young man's face, while he listened, jealously watchful and eager to hear more. He had resolved to find out if possible whether there was any real ground for fear that this Sylvia might be the means of keeping apart the two whom he was so anxious to bring together.

Gerald had again quoted Sylvia Ward in a manner that greatly irritated his uncle. The old man repeated the name with assumed carelessness, as if the question had just occurred to him.