But if the net be but a poor instrument in itself, how marvellous its power when blessed by the Lord! How mysterious the faculty of stirring souls to their very depths, of sending forth words like arrows, which God Himself guides to the hearers' hearts! St. Peter, the illiterate fisherman, must have marvelled at the effect of his first recorded sermon. Three thousand souls gathered in at once, a number far larger than appears to have been drawn in during all the years of Christ's sojourn upon earth by the ministry of Him who spake as never man spake! What were the emotions of the apostle when his preaching, by the might of the Spirit, brought into the Church such a harvest of souls? We know that the miraculous draught made him fall on his knees, humbled and overpowered under a sense of his own unworthiness, and exclaiming to the Divine Being who had wrought the miracle, "Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!" May we not believe that St. Peter was far more humbled by the miraculous draught of souls, the mighty success granted to one who had, but a few weeks before, so sinned against light and love! "What is this honour vouchsafed to me!" Such may have been the apostle's thought ere he laid down his head to rest that night, with his soul overflowing with thankful joy: "Have these lips, so lately polluted with cursing and swearing, these lips that have thrice denied my Lord, been permitted so to preach the gospel, that thousands are gathered into the Church! What am I that I should be chosen to enjoy a privilege so glorious!" But though on that occasion the confession, "I am a sinful man, O Lord!" may have been uttered with far deeper consciousness of guilt than it was in the boat on Gennesaret; the "depart from me!" would never more be heard from the contrite Peter. His sense of sin would but make him cling the more closely to Him who taketh away sin; the greater his guilt, the greater his need that the Saviour should not depart, but abide with Him for ever! [Illustration] [Illustration] XXXIX. The Bed of the Paralytic. WHEN was a burden ever lifted more joyfully than this was, when at the Saviour's command the light bed was raised by the strong arms that had, but a few moments previously, rested in helpless weakness upon it! How joyfully did the restored paralytic make his way on his own feet through that crowd whose presence had rendered it impossible for his friends to bear him in on his bed! We know not of a single word spoken by the rejoicing pardoned believer in that hour of intense happiness, but surely the utterance of his heart must have been like that of the psalmist. "Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits! Who forgiveth all thine iniquities, who healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy life from destruction, who crowneth thee with lovingkindness and tender mercies, . . . so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's!"