But Christ was tied by the terms of His commission. She had appealed to Him as Son of David, and He said that He had been sent to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. She belonged to one of the alien races. She was not even a “sheep” of the house of Israel, much less a “lost” one. The question was, “Could He, even for once, transcend His commission, and grant the request of this weary soul which had traveled so far to find the Christ?” As Messiah, she had no claim on Him, for, in that capacity, He had been commissioned to the house of Israel only. Once again. Her faith was tested in His farther refusal to her pleadings, when He said, “It is not meet to take the children’s bread, and cast it to the dogs.” Somehow her quick woman’s instinct perceived a way up what had seemed to be the unscalable path of Christ’s refusal. If she had no claim on Him as Messiah, was He not something more? Was He not Lord and Master? Did not deity blend with humanity in that nature, which, whilst His voice repelled her, yet fascinated and attracted her? It would almost seem as if the Holy Spirit whispered, “Accost Him as Lord;” “Touch Him on the side of His universal power;” “Speak to Him as Son of Man.” So she acted upon His suggestion, and, throwing herself at His feet, said, “Lord, help me.” To this appeal Christ gave answer that seemed churlish enough. But the bitter rind encased luscious fruit. The nut had only to be cracked to disclose the milk, sweeter than that of the cocoanut in the desert waste. He compared the Jews to children, Himself to bread, and this woman to a dog. But for the word “dog” he used the tender diminutive, which was not applicable to the wolfish, starving animals that prowl and snarl through the streets of Eastern towns, but was used for the little dogs brought up with the children in the home. Now, hope once again sprang up in her heart. Jesus had talked about dogs, and little house dogs, the playthings of the children. He said it was not proper to cast the children’s bread to dogs. If by children he meant the “sheep of the house of Israel,” then she must belong to the household after all. She was quick to see her opportunity. “Truth, Lord!” she exclaimed, “Yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their masters’ table!” When she said that, her lesson was learnt. In her former reply she had given the Lord His right place; in this she took her own as a little dog. You are not a child of Abraham’s stock! Truth, Lord. You are a Syro-Phœnician, and, for that reason, doubly unfit to be called a child! Truth, Lord. All I do for you must be of grace, and not of merit! Truth, Lord. She admitted all and accepted His most discouraging statements concerning herself. But, after the worst that can be said about dogs, they “eat of the crumbs.” All these seeming objections are in favor of her request. She only wants a little crumb of His mercy, which will take nothing from others.