'Never, Macer, would I shrink from any trial to which the Lord in his wisdom might call me--that you know. But has not Probus uttered a truth, when he says, that we are not innocent, and never glorious, when we seek death? that he who seeks martyrdom is no martyr? Listen, Macer, to the wisdom of Probus and the noble Piso. Did you not promise that you would patiently hear them?' 'Woman--I have heard them--their words are naught, stark naught, or worse. Where would have been the blessed gospel at this hour, had it been committed to such counsels? Even under Nero would it have died for want of those who were willing to die for it. I am a soldier of the cross, whose very vocation it is to fight and die. And if I may but die, blessed Jesus, for thee! then may I hope that thou wilt deal mercifully with thy servant at thy judgment-seat. I hear thy voice ever sounding in my ear, reproving me for my cowardice. Have patience with me, and I will give thee all. And if labor, and torture, and death, would but cancel sin!--But alas! even they may not suffice.' 'Then, dear father,' said one of his daughters who had drawn near and seated herself at his knee, while the others had gathered round, 'then will we add ourselves to the sacrifice.' 'Would you?' said Macer--in an absent, musing way--as if some other thought were occupying him. Thinking that his love of his children, evidently a very strong affection in him, might be made to act as a restraint, I said, 'that I feared he greatly exposed his little family to unnecessary danger. Already had his dwelling been once assailed, and the people were now ripe for any violence. This group of little ones can ill encounter a rude and furious mob.' 'They can die, can they not?' said Macer. 'Is that difficult, or impossible? If the Lord need them, they are his. I can ask no happier lot for them than that by death they may glorify God. And what is it to die so, more than in another way? Let them die in their beds, and whom do they benefit? They die then to themselves, and no one is the gainer; let them die by the sword of Varus, or by the stones of the populace, and then they become themselves stones in the foundation of that temple of God, of which Jesus is the chief corner-stone, and they are glorious forever. What say you, Cicer, will you die for Christ?' The little fellow hid his head in his father's bosom at this sudden appeal, but soon drew it out and said, 'I would rather die for you, father.' 'Ah!' said Macer, 'how am I punished in my children! Cicer, would you not die for Christ?' 'I would die for him if you wish it.' 'Macer,' said Probus, 'do you not see how God has bound you and this family into one? and he surely requires you not to separate yourself, their natural protector, from them forever; still less, to involve them in all the sufferings which, taking the course you do, may come upon them at any hour.'