The Levite's thoughts probably took another turn, and he said to himself: "I will see if I can't get a bill through the Legislature to prevent those thieves from robbing and wounding people." There are some now who think they can legislate men back to God--that they can prevent sin by legislation. Like the priest, this Levite never stopped to give the poor fellow a drop of water to quench his thirst; he never attempted to bind up his wounds or to help him in any way. He passed along the highway, doubtless, saying to himself, "I pity that poor fellow." There is a good deal of that kind of pity now-a-days; but it comes only from the lips, not from the heart. The next one to come along that road was a Samaritan. Now it was notorious that in those days a Jew would not speak to a Samaritan; the very presence of the latter was pollution to an orthodox Jew. No Jew ever entered the habitation of the hated Samaritan; he would not eat at his table or drink from his well. Neither would he allow a Samaritan to come under his roof. No religious Jew would even buy from a Samaritan, or sell to him. You know a Jew must have a very poor opinion of a man if he will not do business with him, when there is a prospect of making something out of him. Not only was this the case, but the Jews considered that the Samaritans had no souls; that when they died they would be annihilated. Their graves would be so deep that not even the sound of Gabriel's trump would wake them on the resurrection morning. He was the only man under heaven who could not become a proselyte to the Jewish faith, and become a member of the Jewish family. Repentance was denied him in this life and the life to come. He might profess the Jewish religion; they would have nothing to do with him. That was the way in which they looked upon these men; yet Christ used the despised Samaritan to teach these bitter Jews the lesson of love to their neighbor. The Samaritan came that way. It says in the narrative that the priest came down that way "by chance;" but we are not told that the Samaritan came by chance. He represents our Lord and Master. We are told that he came to where the poor wounded man was; he got off the beast on which he was riding and stooped right down there by the side of the sick man. He looked at him and saw that he was a Jew. If he had been like the Jews themselves, he would most likely have said, "Serve you right. I only wish the thieves had killed you outright. I would not lift a finger to help you, you poor wretched Samaritan." But no! not a word of condemnation or blame did he utter.