im. And I knew him not: but he that sent me to
baptize with water, the same said unto me, Upon whom thou shalt
see the Spirit descending and remaining on him, the same is he
which baptizeth with the Holy Ghost. And I saw and bare record,
that this"--he paused, his staff still pointing at the stranger
in the white garments, as if to give a more absolute certainty
to both his words and the conclusions intended--"I bare record,
THAT THIS IS THE SON OF GOD!"

"It is he, it is he!" Balthasar cried, with upraised tearful eyes.
Next moment he sank down insensible.

In this time, it should be remembered, Ben-Hur was studying the face
of the stranger, though with an interest entirely different. He was
not insensible to its purity of feature, and its thoughtfulness,
tenderness, humility, and holiness; but just then there was room in
his mind for but one thought--Who is this man? And what? Messiah or
king? Never was apparition more unroyal. Nay, looking at that calm,
benignant countenance, the very idea of war and conquest, and lust
of dominion, smote him like a profanation. He said, as if speaking
to his own heart, Balthasar must be right and Simonides wrong.
This man has not come to rebuild the throne of Solomon; he has
neither the nature nor the genius of Herod; king he may be,
but not of another and greater than Rome.

It should be understood now that this was not a conclusion with
Ben-Hur, but an impression merely; and while it was forming,
while yet he gazed at the wonderful countenance, his memory began
to throe and struggle. "Surely," he said to himself, "I have seen
the man; but where and when?" That the look, so calm, so pitiful,
so loving, had somewhere in a past time beamed upon him as that
moment it was beaming upon Balthasar became an assurance. Faintly
at first, at last a clear light, a burst of sunshine, the scene
by the well at Nazareth what time the Roman guard was dragging
him to the galleys returned, and all his being thrilled. Those
hands had helped him when he was perishing. The face was one of
the pictures he had carried in mind ever since. In the effusion
of feeling excited, the explanation of the preacher was lost by
him, all but the last words--words so marvellous that the world
yet rings with them:

"--this is the SON OF GOD!"

Ben-Hur leaped from his horse to render homage to his benefactor;
but Iras cried to him, "Help, son of Hur, help, or my father will
die!"

He stopped, looked back, then