Take another illustration from Shakspere: “Julius Cæsar” is his best drama, not the best play, for it does not act well on the stage, as it lacks singleness and simplicity; nevertheless it is, I think, Shakspere’s most complete play, his most dramatic piece, and the reason is this: His subject is large and is developed on the principle I am laying down. The play is narrow, both in “Macbeth” and “Othello.” In “Julius Cæsar” it is large. The subject may be named the weaknesses of great men. The play is constructed so as to develop the weaknesses of Julius Cæsar, and of all the rest of the characters grouped about him. The story told in the death of Julius Cæsar is told also in the death of all the parties in the terrible failure of them all. But you must mark that in this case we have an extremely narrow purpose as compared with the gospels. In the gospels you can begin anywhere, and preach the whole gospel from any incident. Take the case of the Prodigal Son, and you have the whole story of the gospel in that short compass. Take up the case of the man described as the “father of the child,” crying, “I believe,” and you have it over again. It is over and over again, from the beginning to the end, the pieces all conspiring to the grand result. It is achieved not by ordinary art. The story teller has seen or heard or conceived something, and he goes through a mass of details. The gospels have nothing of that sort. They tell you in a few words what they have to say of the woman of Samaria, or the maniac of Gadara, or of her who loved much and was forgiven much. Names are dispensed with, details, places of residence, all the tricks by which the ordinary story teller succeeds. This story succeeds by pure force of an infinite truth behind it.