The coward, muffled in a cloak, soon steals from the sombre chamber to the palace of the minister and lays before that waiting officer his trophies of broken plans and fatal lists. He gets in return his patent of rank, his gift of confiscated estates, his pledge of his personal security. This is the traitor. And when the sun of the third day shall rise, its first pitying beams will fall upon the gory block, the black executioner, the basket with its dread burden, and the headless trunk of the patriot whose trust and hope had been in a false friend. * * * * * Two men are joined with others in proclaiming an unpopular but holy doctrine. Hand in hand they go through the earth testifying to men, to cities, to nations, the mighty truths. They say to all lands and to all peoples: "We know that this is the living, burning truth. God has spoken from the heavens, and we are His witnesses." To each other--in all the sacred friendliness of long association, of missionary labor, and of a communion together when every human law and hand seemed against them--they speak in faithful hope of the glorious cause which they espouse, and of the divine necessity which they are under to be faithful to God and their brethren. Their views are not in accord with public sentiment and suddenly they are dragged before a cruel tribunal and charged that they are teaching crime. But the law of the land says: "No man shall be punished because of his sincere religious views or practices." And the judge before whom they are arraigned calls to them: "Continue to declare that ye are doing the will of God, and in prison ye shall rest. But acknowledge that ye are proclaiming a man-made system, and pledge that ye will cease, and ye shall go free." And one of them who are arraigned says: "Oh, judge! I acknowledge thy supremacy. I will obey thy law. I will not advise others to break it. So long as thou and thy masters shall command, I will worship the graven image." And then he takes his seal of amnesty, bought at the price of a people's freedom, and creeps from the presence of the court a man--nay, a creature--inviolable of his fellows, but haunted ever by the shadow of Judas. This is the traitor. And when the other prisoner is arraigned he cries: "This is my religion! God gave it to me! Ye may take my earthly life, but ye cannot sap my manhood nor strangle my conscience." Then the judge, who has a mission to learn if these people are sincere, answers to the prisoner and for the far-off masters of the court: "Thou canst not come within the law; because thou canst not claim sincerity. Thy brother and fellow-laborer hath just now recanted, and this is proof that thou art not sincere, but wickedly obstinate. If thy brother had with thee remained firm and immovable I might have believed in thy cause. But what man hath done man can do again. Therefore, recant or rest thou within the cold and lonely walls."