blue expanse. He heeded not the mocking words around him. He was lost, as one in a dream. He had just come from the presence of the Nazarene. There still rang in his ears the words: "I am the light of the world. He that followeth Me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the light of life."
Oh, for light, more light, to understand! It had all seemed so clear to Nicodemus. He had followed, disguised, it is true, Jesus of Nazareth, ever since the first miracle of the turning of water into wine. He had sought Him out at night, either in the dark silence of the shore of Galilee or in the house of Lazarus at Bethany. He had tried, oh, so hard, to believe. In bewildered wonder he had crept to Jesus' feet and had poured out his doubts, his endless questionings and earthly arguments, that yet had taught him nothing.
"Rabbi," he had said, "we know that Thou art a teacher come from God, for no man can do these miracles that Thou doest, except God be with him; yet, if Thou art the Son of God, why art Thou here in the guise of a poor carpenter? Why doth not the very earth quake beneath Thy feet in obeisance to its Creator? Why is it not filled with angels ministering to Thee? Why, oh, why, cannot I, who have read much and studied deeply, understand?"
Oh, how well he remembered those words, uttered in reply, in solemn, tender pity, for man's want of faith, for his inability of accepting that which he cannot prove by human argument, or by nature's law. It was as though the voice that had answered were full of tears.
