The delay is awful for the agonized father, who knows not one moment is to be lost. Suddenly comes a messenger flying to him to tell him it is already too late--don't worry the Master--the little girl is dead. Instantly Jesus turned to the broken-hearted one and in deep compassion told him to have no fear--only believe. In a few minutes they are at the rabbi's home. The hired mourners and the flute players, as is the custom, are already there. They laughed at Him when He told them the little girl was not dead, but sleeping. Turning the crowd away, He took the little cold hand in His, and sweetly said, "Little maid, arise," and she arose and went about the house rejoicing. The miracle made a tremendous sensation, and multitudes were touched by it. Now His home will be Capernaum, almost at the head of the dear lake. The little carpenter shop in the narrow street at Nazareth is closed forever; Joseph, the father, has passed away, and sleeps with the sons of David; Mary, the mother, lives in the town of Cana, where she first came from; the young carpenter with the soft speech, the tender eyes, the golden hair, and the radiance on His face goes up, and down through Galilee--and they call Him "The Light of the World." Capernaum, with its houses of white marble, reflected in the blue waters of Galilee, was, in the Master's day, like Nazareth, one of the delightful spots of Palestine. All was fresh, green, and restful; and round about the land was called "The Garden of Abundance." And there too is the little plain so filled with green fields and flowers and running brooks that men likened it to "A pure emerald." It was in this little land of loveliness, surrounded by all that was enchanting in nature, that Jesus was to begin His public teaching. No wonder that He found in beautiful nature a thousand indices to the majesty and goodness of the Creator. No wonder that His language was the language of poetry, and His similitudes the reflection of the fields and the flowers. He was in the land of idealism--of fancy--and He himself was the poet of the Lord. "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow." "If they do these things in the green tree, what shall be done in the dry?" "'Tis your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom." "Come unto me, and I will give you rest." "We have piped to you, and ye have not danced."