Knowing as we do His fondness for solitude, nothing is more natural than to suppose that the youthful Christ would often forsake the busy scenes of street-life and climb to the top of the hill back of the city. In the valley He had studied nature and human nature; on the mountain He could study God and revelation. From here His view of the country was something like the catechism definition of infinitude—“without bounds or limits.” Here, seated on a rock, leaning against an olive tree, with the old Hebrew Bible unrolled on His lap, He could read and think and plan to His heart’s content. Here He could read about almost any event, whatsoever, and at once lift His eyes from the parchment and let them fall upon the spot where the scene took place. Did He read of the fish swallowing Jonah, He could look out upon the heaving bosom of the Mediterranean, flecked with white-winged ships, some of them no doubt bound for Tarshish. Did He read about Elijah praying for rain, there was Mt. Carmel projecting into the sea and standing out in such bold relief that one could almost see a man standing on its summit. Did He read from the parchment of Elijah’s contest with the priests of Baal, He could look there at the base of Carmel where the altars were built. Looking to the north, He could see Mt. Hermon where a few years later He was to be transfigured, and was to meet Moses and Elias from the other world. In the same direction was the hill where He was to preach a sermon to a great multitude; there, also, and not far away, was Cana where His first miracle was to be wrought. Eastward, He could see around the Sea of Galilee, where He was to make His future home, and where He was to do “most of His mighty works.” With His face still to the east, He could see Mt. Tabor, six miles distant, rising up like a sugar-loaf to the height of two thousand two hundred feet. Seeing this, He would naturally read of Deborah and Barak with an army of ten thousand men on Tabor while Sisera, with an armed host including nine hundred chariots of war, stood at the base of the mountain. Just south of Nazareth is the broad and fertile plain of Esdraelon, which has been the “battle-ground of the nations.” From the hilltop behind Nazareth, Christ could see, flowing through the midst of this plain, the river Kishon, whose swift and swollen current swept so many of Sisera’s men on to the “Great Sea” and to death. Beyond this plain He could see Nain where He, in after life, was to raise the widow’s son. Near Nain is Endor, where Saul called up the witch by night. There, also, are the heights of Gilboa, where the same King breathed his last. There, too, is Shunem, where Elisha often spent the night; and Jezreel, where Jezebel, the wicked Queen, was flung from the upper window of the palace, and dashed to death upon the stone pavement below.