He took a little water in His hand

And laid it on his brow, and said, "Be clean'."
And lo! the scales fell from him, and his blood
Coursed with delicious coolness through his veins,
And his dry palms grew moist, and on his brow
The dewy softness of an infant stole.

His leprosy was cleansed; and he fell down
Prostrate at Jesus' feet, and worshipp'd Him.

8. The following is too beautiful to be omitted:

WILLIS.

Anonymous.

II. THE WIDOW OF NAIN.

1. And it came to pass the day after, that he went into a city called Nain; and many of his disciples went with him, and much people. Now when he came nigh to the gate of the city, behold, there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow; and much people of the city was with her.

2. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not. And he came and touched the bier, and they that bare him stood still. And he said,

Young man', I say unto thee', Arise'. And he that was dead sat up, and began to speak: and he delivered him to his mother. (Luke vi., 11-15.)

5.

6.

7.

Went through the city-the sad sound of feet
Unmix'd with voices-and the sentinel
Shook off his slumber, and gazed earnestly
Up the wide streets along whose paved way
The silent throng crept slowly. They came on,
Bearing a body heavily on its bier.

There was one-
Only one mourner. Close behind the bier,
Crumpling the pall up in her wither'd hands,
Follow'd an aged woman. Her short steps
Falter'd with weakness, and a broken moan
Fell from her lips, thicken'd convulsively
As her heart bled afresh. The pitying crowd
Follow'd apart, but no one spoke to her.
She had no kinsmen.

A widow with one son.

She had lived alone—

He was her all

The only tie she had in the wide world

And he was dead. They could not comfort her.

Forth from the city gate the pitying crowd
Follow'd the stricken mourner. They came near

The place of burial, and, with straining hands,
Closer upon her breast she clasp'd the pall,
And with a gasping sob, quick as a child's,
And an inquiring wildness flashing through
The thin gray lashes of her fever'd eyes,
She came where Jesus stood beside the way.
He look'd upon her, and his heart was moved.

"Weep not!" he said; and as they stay'd the bier,
And at his bidding laid it at his feet,
He gently drew the pall from out her grasp,
And laid it back in silence from the dead.

5

With troubled wonder the mute throng drew near,
And gazed on his calm looks. A minute's space
He stood and pray'd. Then, taking the cold hand,
He said, "Arise!" And instantly the breast
Heaved in its cerements, and a sudden flush
Ran through the lines of the divided lips,
And with a murmur of his mother's name,
He trembled and sat upright in his shroud.
And, while the mourner hung upon his neck,
Jesus went calmly on his way to Nain.

MÄRT, a place for the sale of goods.
MEN'-DI-CANT, a beggar.

TRIB'-U-TA-RY, paying a tribute or tax to
secure protection.

N. P. WILLIS.

14 KINS'-MEN, relations; kindred.

5 CERE'-MENTS, cloths dipped in melted wax, with which dead bodies are infolded when embalmed.

III. THE HEALING OF THE DAUGHTER OF JAIRUS.

1. And, behold, there cometh one of the rulers of the synagogue, Jairus by name; and when he saw Jesus he fell at his feet, and besought him greatly, saying, My little daughter lieth at the point of death: I pray thee, come and lay thy hands on her, that she may be healed, and she shall live.

2. And Jesus went with him, and much people followed him, and thronged him. And he cometh to the house of the ruler of the synagogue, and seeth the tumult, and them that wept and wailed greatly. And one said, Thy daughter is dead: why troublest thou the Master any further? But Jesus said, The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth. And they laughed him to scorn.

3. But when he had put them all out, he taketh the father and the mother of the damsel, and them that were with him, and entereth in where the damsel was lying. And he took the damsel by the hand, and said unto her, Maiden, arise. And straightway she arose and walked.-Matt., ix.; Mark, v.; Luke, viii.

4.

5.

"The same silvery light

That shone upon the lone rock by the sea,
Slept on the ruler's lofty capitals,

As at the door he stood, and welcomed in
Jesus and his disciples. All was still.
The echoing vestibule1 gave back the slide
Of their loose sandals,2 and the arrowy beam
Of moonlight, slanting to the marble floor,
Lay like a spell of silence in the rooms
As Jairus led them on. With hushing steps
He trod the winding stair; but ere he touch'd
The latchet, from within a whisper came,
'Trouble the Master not-for she is dead!'
And his faint hand fell nerveless at his side,
And his steps falter'd, and his broken voice
Choked in its utterance; but a gentle hand
Was laid upon his arm, and in his ear
The Savior's voice sunk thrillingly and low,
'She is not dead—but sleepeth.'

"They passed in.

The spice-lamps in the alabaster urns

Burn'd dimly, and he white and fragrant smoke