Then the enemy assumed another aspect—assailed him with the rage of a wild beast, and the malice of a fiend. No sooner had he preached his first sermon, than there was an attempt to hurl him down the precipice. “The archers sorely grieved him, and shot at him, and hated him.” Judea became to him a mountain of leopards, and humanity seemed infernalized. He was stigmatized as a hypocrite—an impostor—a demoniac. He was falsely accused before rulers, and insult was added to perjury. “But his bow abode in strength, and the arms of his hands were made strong by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob.” “He was tempted in all things like as we are, yet without sin.” “He did no iniquity, neither was guile found in his mouth.” He went through the wilderness without contracting any of its defilement. But this was comparatively a small part of his victory. A more glorious conquest of the world was achieved by his death upon the cross, and his resurrection from the grave. It is here we behold him “glorious in his apparel, traveling in the greatness of his strength,” trampling the hosts of hell, till his raiment is red with blood. It is here we behold him “spoiling principalities and powers, and making a show of them openly—triumphing over them” in his atonement. It is here we behold the Prince of this world cast out and judged. The Prince of Peace has broken his sceptre, demolished his throne, and established upon the ruins of his empire an everlasting kingdom of grace. Caiaphas rejoiced that Christ was under the king’s seal in the grave; but his unholy joy was brief as “the crackling of thorns under a pot.” At the dawning of the third day, Cæsar’s seal is broken, the stone rolled away, the tomb deserted of its occupant, Caiaphas’ feast of joy turned to lamentation and mourning, and the eternal power and Godhead of him whom they crucified engraved for ever on the rent rocks of Calvary. Alexander conquered the world, but did not live to enjoy the fruits of his victory. But the Captain of our salvation, though he was dead, is alive for evermore. He shall prosecute his conquests, and put all enemies under his feet, and retain his dominion for ever. “He shall see of the travail of his soul, and be satisfied.” He lives to confer upon his people the riches which he procured for them by his death. He lives to defend his redeemed, and draw all men unto himself. He lives to perpetuate in the church the peace which he bequeathed to her in his last will and testament. A servant of Julian the Apostate asked one of the martyrs—“What is thy God, the carpenter, doing now in heaven?” He answered—“Making a coffin for thy master!” Julian was soon afterward mortally wounded by an arrow from one of the Scythians. When he was expiring, he waved his hand sorrowfully, and exclaimed—“O Galilean, thou hast conquered!”