The old man was sitting upon a fragment of stone covered with ancient mosses; beside him were his staff and scrip; at his feet lay a small shaggy dog, the companion in how many a pilgrimage perilous and strange.

The face of the old man was as balm to the excited spirit of the neophyte:  he approached, and craving his blessing, sat down beside him.

‘Thou art provided as for a journey, father,’ said he:  ’wilt thou leave us yet?’

‘My son,’ replied the old man, ’the days in store for me on earth are few and scanty; I employ them as becomes me travelling from place to place, comforting those whom God has gathered together in His name, and proclaiming the glory of His Son, as testified to His servant.’

‘Thou hast looked, they tell me, on the face of Christ?’

’And the face revived me from the dead.  Know, young proselyte to the true faith, that I am he of whom thou readest in the scroll of the Apostle.  In the far Judea, and in the city of Nain, there dwelt a widow, humble of spirit and sad of heart; for of all the ties of life one son alone was spared to her.  And she loved him with a melancholy love, for he was the likeness of the lost.  And the son died.  The reed on which she leaned was broken, the oil was dried up in the widow’s cruse.  They bore the dead upon his bier; and near the gate of the city, where the crowd were gathered, there came a silence over the sounds of woe, for the Son of God was passing by.  The mother, who followed the bier, wept—­not noisily, but all who looked upon her saw that her heart was crushed.  And the Lord pitied her, and he touched the bier, and said, “I say unto thee, arise,” And the dead man woke and looked upon the face of the Lord.  Oh, that calm and solemn brow, that unutterable smile, that careworn and sorrowful face, lighted up with a God’s benignity—­it chased away the shadows of the grave!  I rose, I spoke, I was living, and in my mother’s arms—­yes, I am the dead revived!  The people shouted, the funeral horns rung forth merrily:  there was a cry, “God has visited His people!” I heard them not—­I felt—­I saw—­nothing but the face of the Redeemer!’

The old man paused, deeply moved; and the youth felt his blood creep, and his hair stir.  He was in the presence of one who had known the Mystery of Death!

‘Till that time,’ renewed the widow’s son, ’I had been as other men:  thoughtless, not abandoned; taking no heed, but of the things of love and life; nay, I had inclined to the gloomy faith of the earthly Sadducee!  But, raised from the dead, from awful and desert dreams that these lips never dare reveal—­recalled upon earth, to testify the powers of Heaven—­once more mortal, the witness of immortality; I drew a new being from the grave.  O faded—­O lost Jerusalem!—­Him from whom came my life, I beheld adjudged to the agonized and parching death!  Far in the mighty crowd I saw the light rest and glimmer over the cross; I