Wasn't that a lovely series of visits that a kindly old man made to the room of the little laddie who had swept the street crossing before he had been crippled in the discharge of his duty? A city missionary went in to see him and asked him if he had had anybody to visit him. "Oh, yes," was the answer. "A good man comes every day and talks to me, and sometimes he reads the Bible to me and prays." "What is his name?" asked the missionary. And the little fellow studied a moment and said, "I think he said his name was Gladstone." England's grand old man appears to us in many a charming role, but in none is he more manly and commanding than in this of visiting a little crippled waif in a London attic. Florence Nightingale was a lovely visitor. Do you recall that exquisite bit of poetry in conduct on the field of Crimea? A soldier was to go through a painful operation. An anaesthetic could not be administered and the doctor said the patient could not endure the operation. "Yes, I can," said the patient, "under one condition: if you will get the 'Angel of the Crimea' to hold my hand." And she came out to the little hospital at the front and held his hand. Glorious visit. No wonder the man went through the operation without a tremor. But the visit of our text,--to me it is more wonderful still. The truth of the matter is, I know of but one other visit that ever took place that is finer and more beautiful. You know what visit that was. It was the visit that One made to a manger in Bethlehem nineteen centuries ago. That was a visit that remade the world. It was so wonderful that a star pointed it out with finger of silver, and our discordant old earth was serenaded with the music of that land of eternal melody. But aside from that one visit, I think this the most beautiful one ever recorded. What is the secret of its beauty? First, it was beautiful in its courageous loyalty. You know who Jonathan was. He was the King's son. He was popular, handsome and courageous. So lithe, athletic and graceful he was that they called him "the gazelle." He was a prince. He was heir-apparent to the throne of Israel. And you know, also, who David was. He was at that time in disgrace. He was under the frown of the King. He was being hunted from one refuge to another like a wild beast. To be his friend was to be the enemy of the King. To smile upon him was to meet the frown of the King.