were of, and let them see what a lovely humanity they despised in
their pride of election. He took her to suffer with him for the
salvation of the world. The cloud overshadowed them both, but what
words immediately thereafter made a glory in her heart! He spoke to
her as if her very faith had reached an arm into the heavens, and
brought therefrom the thing she sought.--But I confess," the curate
went on, "those two passages have both troubled me. So I presume
will everything that is God's, until it becomes a strength and a
light by revealing its true nature to the heart that has grown
capable of understanding it. The first sign of the coming capacity
and the coming joy, is the anxiety and the question.--There is
another passage, which, although it does not trouble me so much, I
cannot yet get a right perception of. When Mary Magdalene took the
Master of Death for the gardener--the gardener of the garden of the
tombs! no great mistake, was it?--it is a lovely thing, that
mistaking of Jesus for the gardener!--how the holy and the lowly,
yea the holy and the common meet on all sides! Just listen to their
morning talk--the morning of the eternal open world to Jesus, while
the shadows of this narrow life still clustered around Mary:--I can
give it you exactly, for I was reading it this very day.

"'Woman, why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?'

"'Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid
him, and I will take him away.'

"'Mary.'

"'Master!'