To give one example. Look at the class of men who, in all England, undergo the most fearful dangers; who know not at what hour of any night they may not be called up to the most serious labour and responsibility, with the chance of a horrible and torturing death. I mean the firemen of our great cities, than whom there are no steadier, braver, nobler-hearted men. Not a week passes without one or more of these firemen, in trying to save life and property, doing things which are altogether heroic. What do you fancy keeps them up to their work? High pay? The amusement and excitement of fires? The vanity of being praised for their courage? My friends, those would be but paltry weak motives, which would not keep a man's heart calm and his head clear under such responsibility and danger as theirs. No. It is the sense of duty,--the knowledge that they are doing a good and a noble work in saving the lives of human beings and the wealth of the nation,--the knowledge that they are in God's hands, and that no real evil can happen to him who is doing right,--that to him even death at his post is not a loss, but a gain. In short, faith in God, more or less clear, is what gives those men their strong and quiet courage. God grant that you and I, if ever we have dangerous work to do, may get true courage from the same fountain of ghostly strength. Now, St Peter's history is, I think, a special example of this. He was naturally, it seems, a daring man,--a man of great brute courage. So far so good; but he had to be taught, by severe lessons, that his brute courage was not enough,--that he wanted spiritual courage, the courage which came by faith, and that if that failed him, the brute courage would fail too.