ALTHOUGH it was early in the morning, a throng of people had begun to gather upon the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Had one not heard that a great man who told of strange and unheard-of things, teaching in a manner more wonderful than the greatest had ever taught, was expected to appear at any moment upon this spot, one would at least understand that the heart of the people had been moved by some great impulse which was drawing them irresistibly toward one thing. It was plain to be seen that something had happened so sufficiently marvelous in its nature as to kill all interest in everything else.

The vastness of the throng was increasing. Indeed, could it be possible that there still remained a single individual in the cities? And yet they were still coming in streams from all direc- tions. No one was laughing, as is generally the case upon such occasions; in fact, those who were talking at all were doing so almost in a whisper. There was scarcely a noise except that made by the water of the great lake as it rolled in upon the shore, and the dull thud of seemingly numberless feet, except oc- casionally when a young child or infant would cry, a sound scarcely noticeable ordinarily, but extremely shrill and painful upon this occasion.

Very often, as a matter of habit, the crowd would separate as some family of distinction, or the ruler of a synagogue dressed in rich attire, sought an entrance toward the shore; but instead of accepting such a courtesy as their just due, as is usually the case, they would, if they accepted it at all, almost apologize for doing so. Indeed it would seem that something had changed the very nature of everyone, or else that they had suddenly grown to be ashamed of their past actions toward each other.

Among those who had gathered was an old gentleman with a long beard, dressed in a long flowing robe of white, trimmed in gold, with a blue mantle thrown gracefully over his shoulders. He had with him a retinue of servants, and he was immediately distinguished by his majestic mannerisms, and by his extremely anxious attitude. He looked about him sadly, ever trying to step cautiously among the people of all ages who were lying upon stretchers, upon beds, and upon the ground. Some of them were sick, some crippled, and yet everyone looked more hopeful than he. He appeared to be seeking someone of whom to ask a question, when his eyes fell upon a golden-haired youth of about twenty.

Although the young man’s uncovered head was as yellow as the purest gold, his eyes were large and of a dark brown color, and their expression full of tenderness and kindness almost to a point of timidness. There was a pink bloom of youth in his skin which was transparent and as smooth as satin. His lips were well shaped and very rich in color, which, when he smiled, looked even richer in contrast to his white and splendidly shaped teeth. What a wonderful human being, marvelously handsome, express- ing baby-like innocence, and yet full of manly strength. He was the object of so much attention that it was to him the bearded gentleman made his way first of all, and said:

“Do you think, young man, that you could answer some im- portant questions for me? My name is Jairus, and I am the ruler of the most elegant synagogue in Galilee.”

There was a look of pity in the young man’s face as he replied.

“My divine master has taught me the privilege of being of service either to the rich or the poor. I hope I can answer your questions.” The voice which spoke was as musical as a flute.

“Your master? Who is your master?”

“Israel’s great teacher. The great Prophet, Jesus of Nazareth.”

Jesus of Nazareth? Indeed a Prophet! If what I hear of him is true, he is more than a Prophet! Are you one of his disciples?”

“I have been chosen one of his apostles.” There were tears of gratitude in his eyes.

The rich ruler bowed as an inferior would bow to a superior; which was received with perfect modesty.

“Who are you?” the ruler asked.

“My name is Judas Iscariot. Have you come to listen to my master?”

“My anguish is too terrible to listen to anyone. I must have help; and only your master can give it to me. My daughter is sick, and likely to die at any moment. Will you get me an audience with him as soon as he has come?”

“It is not modest that I should try to teach you, a mighty man of Israel. And yet, if you will listen to me, I can tell you the quickest means of an audience with my Master, when he comes.”

“Ceremony is out of place in time of trouble, my young man. I will listen to you. Tell me how I may see your master at once.”

“If you can realize that my master is of nature so divine in speech, so wise in act, so perfect that he speaks with the Spirit of God whom we worship according to our wisdom; and then, if you can believe that my master does only God’s will, and since the nature of God is perfect, if you leave your matter to his care, you will be most sure to secure the help of my master.”

“But if I should see him too late?”

“Have you been the master of a synagogue, and yet doubt the carefulness of God’s thought of us?”

Jairus, the master of the synagogue, was confused for a moment as he looked first at one of his attendants and then at another as if half ashamed.

“Has your master taught you to offer such advice?” he asked.

“What I have told you, my master has taught me,” was the reply.

“Then I will do it,” was the answer, as other individuals, almost pushing him aside, began to press their conversation upon the golden-haired Judas.

“Did I not see you with the Great Teacher the day before yesterday?” asked one of them.

“I was with him. I am with him every day.”

“They say that he has chosen twelve whom he keeps constantly with him; are you one of these?”

“Yes, I am one of them.”

“Do you think he will choose others who are to be his constant companions? I know that he has sent as many as seventy out to expound his teachings; but do you think he will have a greater number than twelve with him?”

“I do not know. I only know that his intention is to do the will of God which is in Heaven,” said Judas.

“Yes, that is it. I can readily understand that, since I myself do the will of God which is in Heaven. I too am able to heal the afflicted. It is the similarity between myself and this Great Teacher which enables me to comprehend his sayings as I do. I am doing a great deal for the Prophet, and methinks, he knows it. Sometimes he will choose another twelve to be with him in the place of the twelve whom he now has—a twelve more perfect than those whom he now has.”

Judas did not answer, but stepped from sight among the crowd.

“If you can heal the afflicted, why do you not do it?” demanded Augeo—who was standing with Ramay, Lydia’s servant, watch- ing and listening to the man who had thus spoken.

Augeo was dressed in rich silks and decorated heavily with jewelry. Even his pointed cap was strung with pearls around the part which fit across his forehead; but just at that moment a number of officers from Herod’s court passed by, and Augeo, revealing acute nervousness in his manner, did not see that the braggart had disappeared, until later when he turned to receive an answer to his question.

“I hate these religious dogs; and I can scarcely believe that this Prophet has performed the miracles of which you have been telling me,” he said, turning to Ramay.

“You have but to wait and see for yourself,” responded Ramay. “But see, a boat is landing. How strange we did not see its ap- proach, for it is a large one? We are nearer the shore than I thought. Ah, I can see—at least I did see a moment ago, and it was the Prophet.”

Augeo seized Ramay’s hand and plunged forward, knocking many to their knees as he did so; and within a moment he was in full view of those who had left the boat. There were ten of them. It was not necessary to ask if the Prophet was among them. He knew that the Prophet was there, and he knew who the Prophet was. It was Jesus, Jesus whom he had known when a boy, whom he had played with. He was overwhelmed with a strange sensation which was increased by what he saw and heard. Some of the people were wailing, some crying, and some begging in a loud voice as if fearing they would not be heard.

“I am blind!” “I cannot hear!” “I am lame!” “I am suffer- ing!” “I am unclean!” “Oh, Son of David, hear me!” “Have mercy upon me! Deliver me!” were the exclamations uttered from a thousand throats and from as many directions, and from voices which together were horrible. Suddenly three men rushed toward the opening, dragging with them the screaming, howling figure of a man. And having become both exasperated and ex- hausted with their burden, they threw him forward and he fell howling at the feet of the Prophet, foaming at the mouth and showing his terrible teeth.

“I know who you are,” he screeched, as the frightened crowd backed rapidly away, among which was Augeo who had thought himself afraid of nothing.

But the Prophet was not afraid, nor did he appear even to notice the thing which crawled at his feet and tore and bit at his robe; but he looked disapprovingly at those who had just thrown down their burden. Then stooping, he lifted the crawling figure to its feet, who at once became quiet, and with a startled expression riveted his eyes upon the eyes of the Prophet. Suddenly he started slightly like one who had been awakened from a sleep. There was an expression of intelligence in his face as he looked in bewilderment about him as if trying to decide where he was, and what it was; then he began to sob like a child just rescued from great danger—and many of the people began to sob with him. The Prophet took his hand, and things became as quiet as death, for the Prophet was speaking.

“Woe unto you priests, scribes, and hypocrites, who have been indifferent and unkind to such as these!”

“Woe unto us, Lord,” cried the ruler of the synagogue. “I have nothing to ask for myself; but will you not come to my daughter who is near unto death in my house? Her mother’s grief cannot be quieted.”

The Prophet answered in a tone which others could not hear, and the priest walked humbly to one side and waited patiently. “What think you?” asked Ramay, turning to Augeo who was as pale as death.

“I must go away quickly,” was the reply.

“No, you must stay.”

“You are right. I must stay. ‘Woe unto the priests and scribes,’ he said. What think you he will say of thieves and murderers? Ask him, good friend. No! Do not ask him! I do not wish to know! I dare not know—and—still—” Ramay was quiet, although Augeo was bruising the flesh of his arm, so tightly had he gripped it.

“I will ask him,” responded Ramay.

“No! Do not ask him! You must not!”

“I will ask him! Tell us, good master, what think you of thieves and murderers?”

Those immediately surrounding the Prophet heard the question and awaited the answer.

“Thieves and murderers?” repeated the wise Prophet, and there was no hatred expressed in his manner regarding these people; but, strange to say, as he continued his eyes fell upon Augeo who drew back as if trying to shield himself behind Ramay.

“The condemnation of a violent act depends upon the motive which prompted it,” began the Prophet. “He who eats con- tentedly and thinks not of his brother who is hungry, is a thief. And they who are indecently rich while others are indecently poor, are thieves. And they whose greed forces an unbearable struggle upon those less fortunate than themselves, tantalizing their victims unto revengeful thought and acts, are murderers.”

“Dost dare to excuse those vicious men who prowl at night stealing from unsuspecting homes and killing the occupants therein?” demanded a man in rich attire who was known to be a rich man of the law in Jerusalem, and a Pharisee.

“With one cord I bind them together with those who, like you, live by their misfortune,” was the answer, as the concourse began to howl.

“Away with him! We want no lawyers! We want no priests and scribes to interpret the law for us! They have deceived us!”

Away with them!” But before there was violence done, the Prophet raised his hand as a request for silence; and there was silence immediately. Surely the Prophet was master of the feel- ings which he had aroused.

“You who are poor would be rich if you could; and being rich would be as the rich; and you have all longed for the splendor of the scribes, of the homage paid the priests; and you have all been envious of those who live by their understanding of the law; therefore at heart you are one of them. With the very judgment that you have judged, you are yourselves judged. Few there are who can cry thief, or murderer, or deceiver to the other. Few there are who can say to the other: You have been unjust, for in the sight of our Father Who is in the Heavens, all are guilty.

“There is nothing gained in the condemnation of another, un- less you help the condemned; and it is better that you see not another’s fault unless you are sorry for the erring one.

“Be not kind only to those who have been kind to you, for such kindness is no virtue: behold, the wicked do as much! And work not alone for those whose patronage will benefit you, for such is mere selfishness. Remember that those who are good need not the exercise of your charity; but those who are not good. And remember that none are good except those who do the will of God which is in Heaven; and those who are constantly plan- ning for their own happiness know nothing of God’s will. Their hearts are scrolls already written upon by their own desires, and there is no room for a message which is Heavenly. Those who live for themselves are not good; and that which is of God does not dwell in a house except it be good. Remember also that there are none possessing a soul so broken with sin that God cannot mend it unto a purpose which is righteous and holy. But you who wish to be righteous, say not that you are righteous; but let others see that you are righteous.

“If any among you have burdens which are heavy to bear, let me help you carry them; if you have evil desires to keep to overcome, let me assist you. Your sins are mine, for I have taken them unto myself your feelings are mine because I love you, and whatsoever you cannot do by yourselves, I will help you to do.”

“Does he really mean that he will help us?” asked Augeo of Ramay.

“Yes, he means it.”

“What a man!” exclaimed Augeo. “How different from the insipid priests in Jerusalem. When one sees a strong man whimpering over religion and condemning the common weaknesses of mortals as if they were afraid to face the struggle of life, it is sickening. But this man condemns us not. See, my kind friend, he is sorry for us, and offers to help us. He is afraid of nothing, and yet, methinks he is not a giant in body. And he is a friend to murderers and thieves. His personality—his personality— I do not know what I am saying, but I admire him—he attracts me! I will never forget him—and I believe that he is the Christ. I believe he is the Messiah of the Jews!”

He stopped talking, having noticed the old gentleman whose name was Jairus standing near, weeping. Servants had come to him from his home saying that he need not trouble the Prophet further, for his daughter was dead.

“She is not dead, but sleeping,” declared the Prophet as he left with the rich Pharisee for his home.

THE ABOVE are excerpts from the twenty-first chapter, headed “The Arrest of Enos,” of the book entitled The Rejected Crown, by Archie J. Inger, published in California.

The book was written thirty years ago, but the Author, then known as the “Boy Prophet,” was asked not to publish it until he would be told to do so. The fact that it is now in circulation would seem to be another proof of our presence in the King’s Chamber and of the increased Christ activity in the world.

The Rejected Crown may be regarded by some as a daring adventure, because Jesus moves through it, first as a boy and then as the Messiah, acting and speaking among the people of his times. With humanity itself as the battle-ground, where some are good and some are bad, this greatest man that ever lived is shown as he then must have been—a vital, strange and wonderful character, yet withal gentle, wise, loving and always humanly perfect, what- ever the circumstance or the need, sent here by the Father to point the way that all men may know how they can return to their Heavenly Home.

We can tell you best about the story itself by saying that it is the most satisfying, the most human, and yet the most real portrayal of his life and the way he must have lived, taught and acted, of any story we have read of the many attempting to depict his life.

New words are put into his mouth, but the wisdom of them is such that all will recognize and marvel at it, because of their not being in the Bible, yet knowing in the circumstances in which they were uttered that they would surely have been his words.

All this is woven into a most interesting and humanly vital story that tells of the lives and vicissitudes of a number of Jesus’ playmates and friends as a boy, carried through thirty chapters and 338 pages. Many of the incidents Jesus’ life told in the Gospels are brought out in greater detail and fullness and in such a natural way as to make the story truly thrilling and intensely interesting to the end, where on the third day, those who loved him, while grieving over his death, learn to their great joy that he is alive and has risen from the dead as he promised.

The author explains that the book is not the result of research or imagination, but was inspired by a series of vivid dreams. The experiences he does not explain by any metaphysical hypothesis, but accepts them as one of the unusual experiences which come to all of us—things which are felt but few understand. He hopes that his efforts will stimulate the reader’s reverence for the New Testament, bring the Messiah humanly close, and soothe the tor- turing fears and doubts that are assailing so many these days.