WINDS AND WAVES.

"WHAT manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?" (Matt. viii. 27.) The circumstances under which these words were spoken are well known to all readers of sacred story. Out on the Sea of Galilee, a little ship was taking a few poor fishermen and the Lord of life and glory away from Capernaum towards the country of the Gergasenes on the other side.

The Master had just been working some of His mighty works, and the multitudes had been thronging around Him. He had witnessed in the few preceding hours that it was not in Bethlehem's Inn alone that there was no room for Him; the fact had been very patent that in the hearts of those who thronged about Him there was 66 no room

They could follow Him about-some out of curiosity, some hoping to ensnare Him, many for the loaves and fishes, but few, if any, followed Him for His own sake. " Master," one had just said, "I will follow Thee whithersoever thou goest." Easily said; but did he follow? The Master knew the measure of his devotedness; and in those memorable, and, we might say, mournful words replied, "Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head." Not one resting-place for Jesus in all those multitudes, not one heart open for Him And yet it was on their account He was there suffering the bitterness of the thought that His own would not receive Him; that, despite His love and wondrous condescension, "He was despised and rejected of men—a Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief."

"The Son of Man hath not where to lay His head." We cannot read the declaration without feeling our hearts stirred within us, and involuntarily sighing, with Napoleon, "Ah! Monde! Monde !" For though the people of Capernaum and Bethlehem had no room for Him

"It was for them He suffered, it was for them He died."

And now, having spent the day in deeds of mercy and love, casting out spirits and healing all that were sick, "He entered a ship, and His disciples followed Him." And in the sublimely simple, and truth-stamped language of the historian, "Behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves; but He was asleep." He was asleep! Does Jesus know our weakness? Has He known what it is to be weary, and worn, and sad; to be faint, and hungry, and thirsty; to have trial and sorrow such as we have to bear? Oh, yes! He has known it all. Not a want we know, not a pang we feel, but He is acquainted with it, for He has gone before and has been tempted and tried as we are. He sat wearied by Jacob's well, and on the Sea of Galilee was in need of that rest He was partaking of, for truly He had been working while it was called day. 'And His disciples came to Him, and awoke Him, saying, Lord save us, we perish. And He saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, oh ye of little faith? Then He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. But the men marvelled, saying, What manner of man is this that even the winds and the sea obey Him?"

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Oh, how strangely inconsistent can even disciples be! In the moment of peril they here ran to the Master, and asked Him to save them; but when He had done so, and stilled the storm, they seem to show,

by their exclamation, that, whilst asking Him to save them, they did not believe that He had the power. All day long He had been giving them proofs of His power over life itself, but they have doubts as to His ability to overcome a storm! "The men marvelled."

And

To save others they believed the Master competentfor He had just saved the Centurion's son; but could He save them. Ah! it was not their faith-for their faith was "little "it was His love, and His power exercised because He loved, that saved them. surely we should expect that now they would no longer doubt His power, and that He would no longer have added to His already heavy burdens the thought of their "little faith."

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It is not long, however, until we are made painfully conscious that such a result had not been achieved. Once again the disciples are out on the sea (Mark vi. 45, 46), this time by themselves; the Master was "alone on the land." He had been away as was His wont, praying to His Father. Again the winds were contrary, and the poor fishers were toiling in rowing." They were not forgotten by Him, "He saw them toiling," as He sees all who toil in rowing on Time's great sea. He went towards them "walking upon the sea, and would have passed by them." What! passed by and left them there in danger and fear, without help or power of deliverance? Oh! no.

When it was told poor blind Bartimæus that "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by" he knew that meant eyesight to him if he could but catch the Master's attention, and his faith was not vain. When He passeth by a blessing is left behind. Here, however, the anxious fishers all saw Him walking on the sea, "and were troubled." Nay, they cried out in fear, supposing they had seen a spirit. There is not much to wonder at in this fear, for

walking on the sea was, as they knew, a thing beyond the province of mortals. "But straightway Jesus spake unto them (Matt. xiv. 27), saying, Be of good cheer, it is I; be not afraid." Can we picture to ourselves the perplexity of these poor unlearned men? How wonderful were the things they had seen and heard since they had begun to follow Jesus! What a strange experience they were passing through. Day after day all natural law seemed to be suspended by His mighty power and at His will. Here was a new wonder; He was actually walking on the sea! No doubt their amazement was great, and their minds not a little disturbed by the thought, "Where is all this to end?" "Be not afraid." Over Galilee's blue waters the sweet sounds steal, and in the little craft the voice is heard and tremblingly listened to. Peter, ever boldest and most daring, cries, "Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come unto Thee on the water. "If it be." Ah, Peter! great was the Master's love to give thee sign upon sign, even as He had given an earlier age "line upon line" and "precept upon precept." "And He said, Come. And when Peter was come down. out of the ship he walked on the water to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind boisterous he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried, saying, 'Lord, save me. What! Peter afraid, although he found he really could walk on the water? Yes, the boisterous winds upset his faith, and made him now doubt the Lord whom he afterwards came to deny. "If any man thinketh he standeth let him take heed lest he fall." Peter, again, however, was favoured by the Lord to know His love, for "Jesus immediately stretched forth His hands and caught him, and said unto him, Oh, thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou doubt?" Reader, wherefore? Then Matthew tells us that when the Lord and Peter had entered the ship the wind ceased, and the disciples worshipped the Master,

saying, "Of a truth Thou art the Son of God." Mark adds, that "they were sore amazed in themselves beyond measure, and wondered," and, alluding to the miracle of the loaves and fishes, he adds, "For they considered not the miracle of the loaves, for their hearts were hardened." That is, they still believed not. They had forgotten their deliverance when they cried, "What manner of man is this?" and even forgotten the miracle of that very day. And if such was the faith of the immediate followers of our Lord,What is ours? How have we learned the great lessons of these recorded experiences? What do they profit us? They were not recorded for our intellectual parts only, or to furnish us with a history of the past which should simply interest us.

most.

Rather are they mines of heavenly wealth for the enrichment of our lives, and stores of heavenly food for the sustaining of our souls. He who on Galilee's waters stilled the winds and waves, yea, "that same Jesus" is now, as then, able to save to the very utterWhen our frail bark is tossed by the waves of life's ocean, when the winds are contrary, when we are weak and unable to contend with the storm, and are ready to perish or despair, can He not save us? There may be no outward sign of such power, the Master may seem to be asleep and unheeding our difficulties, but do we therefore doubt His power, and try to do of ourselves? Oh! in the midst of the storm, when the waves are highest and beating all around, when the winds are most contrary, when the heart is torn and bleeding, and the hands are bruised, and the feet are weary, and the whole heart is faint; let us not fear; if He is on board, if Christ be formed within us, all is well. In the midst of the tempest, be its violence what it may, those silvery and all-subduing words "Peace be still," shall give instant deliverance, and there will be "a great calm." a great calm." Do we know this true

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