We know of nothing that is harder to do than to bring the dead back to life. Men can do many things, but this is one thing which they cannot do. All the men in the world and all the angels in heaven could never, by their own strength, restore life to the dead. When the blood stops flowing through the veins, and the heart stands still, there is nothing but the power of God that can make the heart begin to beat, and the blood begin to flow again. But Jesus had the power to do this. He raised Lazarus to life after he had lain in the grave four days. And he did the same to the widow’s son, and to the daughter of Jairus. And what he did for others in this matter, he did for himself also. And he did it by his own power. On one occasion, when speaking to his disciples about his death, or, as he called it, laying down his life, he said, “I lay it down of myself; _I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it again_.” And he did this on the morning of the resurrection. He exercised his own power to give new life to his dead body. Here we have a grand lesson about the power of Christ. And it is very comforting to know how great the power of Jesus is, because we so often need to have him exercise that power to help us when we are in trouble. And he is exercising his power in this way continually. Let us look at some of the ways in which he does this. “The Power of Christ to Save.” A young man, the son of a pious mother, was wandering away from the paths in which he had been trained to walk. He had given up going to church, and in the summer time generally spent his Sundays in sailing on the river in a boat with his gay companions. One Sunday the boat upset. He could not swim and he went down in the deep water. As he rose to the surface for the last time, he was seized and his cold and apparently lifeless body was brought to the shore. He was carried home. Everything possible was done for his recovery, but for a long time it seemed uncertain whether he would come back to life. There was a feeble flutter about the wrist, just enough to keep hope alive. His mother knelt by his bedside, and prayed in her agony that he might be spared at least till he could seek and find pardon. As she thus prayed, the cold hand held in hers gave a feeble pressure. The eyelids quivered a little, but did not open. After a while he looked at his mother, and said, in a low whisper, “Mother I am saved.” Supposing that he meant saved from drowning, she replied, “Yes, dear, thank God you are saved.” And then in broken sentences, with long intervals between them, he gave this remarkable experience: