Tombstone epitaph., 1917-04-08

TEAI-JeSGS SaifN unto them. come ana break your fast. And none of the dis cipes dUrst inquire of him. who art thou? knowing that 1t was the Lord.-John 2l:i2. v MESS you remember the cir
 cumstances involved in the
 situation described in the text,
 its words will seem to you un- important and meaningless. perhaps utterly absurd as the text of an Easter sermon. But if you remember the cir cumstances involved. those simple words will describe to you q situation than which you can find none more significant, more startling. more dra- matic. more thrilling. more glorious, between the first chapter of Matthew and the last chapter of Revelation.
 To bring the true situation before you, let me describe a picture of the scene. from the marvellous brush of the French master painter of the Christ. So much of whose lifetime has been given 10 the production of those won derful paintings of the life of Christ that have been the marvel of the ar tistic and the delight of the Christian "'AaN A'A At'A' of all the hundreds of canvases that J. James Tissot has delighted to fill with charming. passionate. dramatic and spiritual depictions of movements in the earthly life of the Savior, that which shows the moment described in our text is one of his masterpieces in deed.
 The picture makes the hour of the scene to be, as We know that 1t was. the most charming hour of the love Hest season of the year, just at sunrise of cloudless day in spring. Beneath the azure sky and clear in the sunrise glow of that hour, the lake of Galilee shines translucent from turquoise to pearl.
 Resting at the waters edge are the two boats, the large and the small, of which we read, simple and clumsy specimens of the boat builders craft of that day. Oars, poles, and nets in them tell their use. Upon the pebbles lies hastily discarded net, still damp and dark from the water, and close by lies the heap of splendid fish. fresh. wet, gleaming and silyery in the sun. The cOals of fire glow ruddy in a little heap, and tiny thread of opal smoke rises straight in the air of the windless dawn. On an outer garment, placed blanket-wise for him. perhaps by the tenderness of a disciple, sits the Lord. In even so simple pose the noble and commanding presence of his personality is yet unmistakable At his right hand lie heaped up a dozen fiat cakes of the newly baked bread whose luscious brown almost suggests their fragrant aroma. On simple split stick fish Is spltted. and the Lord holds it in one hand above the coals 10 brown. with the other hand moving in simple gesture and with up- lifted face, as he speaks naturally, fa- miliarly. and with most evident fas- cination to the spellbOund men that squat In oriental fashion facing him across the fire. "Spellbound." did we say? You should see the picture to know with what divine power they are held. Motionless as statues. the most of them yet lean eagerly. amazedly. passionately forward, their eyes cen tered on his face as If no looking would ever satisfy the hearts that feed on the joy of seeing him. hearing him. participating in the heavenly marvel of the hour.
 Such is the scene. I cannot know just what it means to you. But may I not tell you what it means to me7
 It has been my privilege. now and again. to sit as friend or guest at the tables of the rich, where the snowy