of that great gift which makes the tongue of the dumb sing.

His words to her are full of tenderness. She receives the name of
'daughter.' Gently He encourages her timidity by that 'Be of good
cheer,' and then He sets right her error: 'Thy faith'--not thy
finger--'hath made thee whole.' There was no real connection between
the touch of the robe and healing; but the woman thought that there
was, and so Christ stooped to her childish thought, and allowed her
to prescribe the road which His mercy should take. But He would not
leave her with her error. The true means of contact between us and
Him is not our outward contact with external means of grace, but the
touch of our spirits by faith. Faith is nothing in itself, and heals
only because it brings us into union with His power, which is the
sole cause of our healing. Faith is the hand which receives the
blessing. It may be a wasted and tremulous hand, like that which
this woman laid lightly on His robe. But He feels its touch, though
a universe presses on Him, and He answers. Not the garment's hem,
but Christ's love, is the cause of our salvation. Not an outward
contact with it or with Him, but faith, is the condition on which
His life, which knows no disease, pours into our souls. The hand of
my faith lifted to Him will receive into its empty palm and clasping
fingers the special blessing for my special wants.

The other evangelists tell us that, at the moment of His words to
the woman, the messengers came bearing tidings of the child's death.
How Jairus must have grudged the pause! A word from Christ, like the
pressure of His hand, heartened him. Like a river turned from its
course for a space, to fill some empty reservoir, His love comes
back to its original direction. How abundant the power and mercy, to
which such a work as that just done was but a parenthesis! The