In the person of Mr. Trimblerigg the Free Evangelical Church had lifted up its head and neighed like a war-horse, saying among the trumpets, ha! ha! to the thunder of the captains and the shouting: and in the person of Mr. Trimblerigg thanks were publicly tendered to it, when all the fighting was over. And though Mr. Trimblerigg received neither title, nor outward adornment, nor emolument, he became, from that day on, a figure of international significance,--the first perhaps since great old combative Martin Luther, to attain so high and controversial a prominence in divided Christendom on his spiritual merits alone. It may sound cynical to say that the greatness of nations has very largely been built up on the lies they have told of each other. And yet it is a true statement; for you have only to compare their histories, and especially the histories of their wars (upon which young patriots are trained to become heroes), in order to realize that the day of naked and unashamed truth has not yet arrived: that so long as nations stand to be worshipped, and flags to be fought for, truth can only be relative. From which it follows that while nations are at war too much truth is bad for them; and not only for them but for religion also. And that is where and why Mr. Trimblerigg found his place, and fitted it so exactly. I leave it at that. He became a national hero; and truly it was not from lack of courage or conviction that he had seen no fighting. He was short, and fat, and over forty; and his oratorical gifts were more valuable where the sound of gunfire did not drown them; otherwise he would have preached his gospel of the relative beatitudes as willingly from the cannon’s mouth as from anywhere. A day came, gunfire having ended, when he, and an Archbishop, and a Prime Minister all stood on a platform together, and spoke to an exalted gathering too glittering in its rank and distinction to be called an assembled multitude, though its mere numbers ran into thousands. The Archbishop sat in the middle; and the two ministers, the political and the spiritual, sat on either side of him; and if they were not as like each other as two peas, and did not, by both speaking at once, rattle together like peas upon a drum, they were nevertheless birds very much of a feather; and when it came to the speaking, they fitted each other wonderfully. The Archbishop came first and spoke well; the Prime Minister followed and spoke better; Mr. Trimblerigg came last and spoke best of all. The audience told him so; there was no doubt of it. Field-Marshals and Rear-Admirals applauded him, Duchesses waved their handkerchiefs at him; a Dowager-Countess, of Low Church antecedents, became next day a member of the Free Evangelicals; the mere strength of his personality had converted her.