This right-hand road has a decided grade _up_ from the beginning, a steep slant, that causes many to avoid it, though they feel impelled to take it. Those who take it say that after the first decided step into it the slant does not seem nearly so hard as before starting, and that climbing it makes splendid muscle and gives an inspiring sense of exhilaration from the very start. The atmosphere is rare and purifying and invigorating. It is not traveled by so many, though the number keeps increasing. But such rare companionship, hitherto unknown, they afford! _The striking peculiarity_ of this road, however, is this, that each one keeps lock-step with a certain One who leads the way. This One is remarkable in appearance. His face combines all the strength and resolution of the strongest man's with all the fineness and gentleness of the finest woman's. But He bears peculiar marks as though He had been through some terrible experience. His face has a number of small scars as though it had been torn by thorns and cut by thongs. His hands and feet look as though huge spikes had been forced through them. But the glory-light of another world is in His eyes, and illumines His face radiantly, and a glad ring is in His low, musical, singularly clear voice. The walking in step with Him is _so_ close that one can feel the tender throbbing of His heart, and can talk confidentially with Him in low, quiet tones, and can hear distinctly His gentle still-like voice in reply. As one steps off quietly, determinedly to the right from the battle of the forks he hears the closing words of Jesus' remarks to Peter--"_and follow Me_." Jesus sends no one ahead alone. He blazes out every path through the unknown, unbroken forest, and asks us simply to come along after Him. He did what He asks us to do. The self-life was alluringly and repeatedly presented to Him by Satan, in the wilderness, in the remark of Peter, by the visit of the Greeks, in Gethsemane where the struggle of soul almost broke the tie that held body and spirit together, and many other times. In many a hard battle--for the divine Jesus was intensely human in His earthly life--He repeatedly said a never-varying "no" to the self-life, and lived a constant victory until the very last triumphant shout of victory on Calvary. It was a life of constant conflict, but of splendid, calming, scarce-broken peace within, and of marvelous power without. Earnestly, lovingly, gently, yet passionately, He stands just ahead in that path now, with pierced hands outstretched in open invitation, with a heart-yearning in the depths of His great eyes, wooing us on to follow where He goes on before.