A subtle, intangible, but terribly sure something haunts and hunts the King from the first.  His virgin mother is suspected by the one nearest her of the most serious offense that can be charged against a woman.  The shadow that later grew to inky blackness came ahead of the man, and, under the stable eaves, waited grimly His arrival.  The feverish green of Herod’s eyes will be content with nothing but a new, bright, running red, and plenty of it.  Satan’s plan of killing was started early.  He was not particular about the way it was done.  The first attempt was at Bethlehem.  The venomous spittle oozed out there first.  But he must move along natural channels:  just now, a murderous king’s jealous dread of a possible rival.

The first hint of the actual coming of the long expected One is from the star-students of the east.  Their long journey and eager questioning bring the birth of Jesus before the official circle of the nation.  It is most significant that His birth causes at once a special meeting of the nation’s ruling body.  Herod was troubled, of course.  But—­all Jerusalem was troubled with him.  Here is a surprising sympathy.  It reflects at once vividly the situation.  It was strangely suggestive that news of their King coning should trouble these national leaders.  These devout star-watchers are wise in the source of information they came to.  These leaders knew.  They quickly pointed out the spot where the coming One should be born.

A pure virgin under cruel suspicion, a roomless inn, a village filled with heart-broken mothers, a quick flight on a dark night to a foreign land by a young mother and her babe, the stealthy retirement into a secluded spot away from his native province, a fellow feeling between a red-handed king and the nation’s leaders—­ugh! an ugly, deadly fog.

The Man Sent Ahead.

A high fence of silence shuts out from view the after years.  Just one chink of a crack appears in the fence, peering through which, one gets a suggestion of beautiful simplicity, of the true, natural human growing going on beyond the fence.

When mature years are reached, the royal procession is formed.  A man is sent ahead to tell of the King’s coming.  John was Jesus’ diplomatic representative, His plenipotentiary extraordinary; that is, the one man specifically sent to represent Him to the nation whose King He was.  Treatment of John was treatment of Jesus.  A slight done him was slighting his sovereign Master.  If Sir Henry Mortimer Durand were to be slighted or treated discourteously by the American authorities, it would be felt at London as a slight upon the King, the government, and the nation they represent.  Any indignity permitted to be done on American soil to von Stuckenburg would be instantly resented by Kaiser William as personal to himself.  John was Jesus’ Durand, His von Stuckenburg, His Whitelaw Reid.  And no diplomat ever used more tactful language than this John when questioned about his Master.  In Jesus’ own simile, John was His best man.  Jesus was a bridegroom.  John stood by His side as His most intimate friend.