red by Romans, of whom probably this centurion
was one; the commander, perhaps, of some small garrison of a hundred
men, the sixtieth part of a legion, which was stationed in Capernaum. If
we look at all the features of his character which come out in the
story, we get a very lovable picture of a much more tender heart than
might have been supposed to beat under the armour of a mercenary soldier
set to overawe a sullen people. 'He loveth our nation,' say the elders
of the Jews,--not certainly because of their amiability, but because of
the revelation which they possessed. Like a great many others in that
strange, restless era when our Lord came, this man seems to have become
tired of the hollowness of heathenism, and to have been groping for the
light. His military service brought him into contact with Judaism and
its monotheism, and his heart sprang to that as the thing he had been
seeking. 'He hath built us a synagogue,' thereby expressing his adhesion
to, or at least his lofty estimate of, the worship which was there
carried on. Just as, if an English officer in India were, in some little
village or other, to repair a ruined temple, he would win the hearts of
all the people, because they would think he was coming over to
Brahminism; so this soldier was felt to be nearer to the Jews than his
official position might have suggested.

Then, there was in him a beautiful human kindliness, which neither the
rough military life, nor that carelessness about a slave--which is one
of the worst fruits of slavery, had been able to sour or destroy. He was
tenderly anxious about his servant, who, according to Luke's expression,
was 'dear to him.' Then we get as the crown of all the beauty of his
character, the lowliness of spirit which the 'little brief authority' in
which he 'was dressed' had not puffed up. 'I am not worthy that Thou
shouldest come under my roof.' That lowliness is emphasised in Luke's
version of the story, which is more detailed and particularly accurate
than Matthew's summary account. By it we learn that he did not venture
to come himself, but sent His messengers to Jesus. If we take Matthew's
version, there is another lovely trait. He does not ask Christ to do
anything. He simply spreads the necessity before Him, in the confidence
that His pitying love lies so near the surface that it was sure to flow
forth, even at that light touch. He will not prescribe, he tells the
story, and leaves all to Him. Christ's answ