perhaps to be seen anywhere. The sun underwent strange changes of shape in the

thick vapours - now almost square, now like a domed Temple - until at length it slid into

the sea, and went out like a blue spark.' And overhead shone out in the blue summer-

sky, one by one, the stars in Eastern brilliancy. We know not the exact direction which

the climbers took, nor how far their journey went. But there is only one road that leads

from Cæsarea Philippi to Hermon, and we cannot be mistaken in following it. First,

among vine-clad hills stocked with mulberry, apricot and fig-trees; then, through corn-

fields where the pear tree supplants the fig; next, through oak coppice, and up rocky

ravines to where the soil is dotted with dwarf shrubs. And if we pursue the ascent, it still

becomes steeper, till the first ridge of snow is crossed, after which turfy banks, gravelly

slopes, and broad snow-patches alternate. The top of Hermon in summer - and it can

only be ascended in summer or autumn - is free from snow, but broad patches run

down the sides expanding as they descend. To the very summit it is well earthed; to 500

feet below it, studded with countless plants, higher up with dwarf clumps.7

As they ascend in the cool of that Sabbath evening, the keen mountain air must have

breathed strength into the climbers, and the scent of snow - for which the parched

tongue would long in summer's heat8 - have refreshed them. We know not what part

may have been open to them of the glorious panorama from Hermon embracing as it

does a great part of Syria from the sea to Damascus, from the Lebanon and the gorge

of the Litany to the mountains of Moab; or down the Jordan valley to the Dead Sea; or

over Galilee, Samaria, and on to Jerusalem and beyond it. But such darkness as that of

a summer's night would creep on. And now the moon shone out in dazzling splendour,

cast long shadows over the mountain, and lit up the broad patches of snow, reflecting

their brilliancy on the objects around.

On that mountain-top 'He prayed.' Although the text does not expressly state it, we can

scarcely doubt, that He prayed with them, and still less, that He p rayed for them, as did

the Prophet for his servant, when the city was surrounded by Syrian horsemen: that his

eyes might be opened to behold heaven's host - the far 'more that are with us than they

that are with them.'9 And, with deep reverence be it said, for Himself also did Jesus

pray. For, as the pale moonlight shone on the fields of snow in the deep passes of

Hermon, so did the light of the coming night shine on the cold glitter of Death in the near

future. He needed prayer, that in it His Soul might lie calm and still - perfect, in the

unruffled quiet of His Self-surrender, the absolute rest of His Faith, and the victory of His

Sacrificial Obedience. And He needed prayer also, as the introduction to, and