There is no simpler or nobler record in the “Book of Martyrs,” and in passing I would only remind you, that he at least was ready to acknowledge from whence came his strength. “Christ, the great Captain of liberty as well as of salvation,” he wrote just before his death, “saw fit to take from me the sword of steel after I had carried it for a time. But he has put another in my hand, the sword of the Spirit, and I pray God to make me a faithful soldier wherever he may send me.” And to a friend who left him with the words, “If you can be true to yourself to the end how glad we shall be,” he answered, “I cannot say, but I do not think I shall deny my Lord and Master, Jesus Christ.” CXXXVII. Patience, humility, and utter forgetfulness of self are the true royal qualities. CXXXVIII. “By the light of burning martyr fires Christ’s bleeding feet I track, Toiling up new Calvaries ever with the cross that turns not back.” All chance of the speedy triumph of the kingdom of God, humanly speaking, in the lake country of Galilee—the battle-field chosen by himself, where his mightiest works had been done and his mightiest words spoken—the district from which his chosen companions came, and in which clamorous crowds had been ready to declare him king—is now over. The conviction that this is so, that he is a baffled leader, in hourly danger of his life, has forced itself on Christ. Before entering that battle-field, face to face with the tempter in the wilderness, he had deliberately rejected all aid from the powers and kingdoms of this world, and now, for the moment, the powers of this world have proved too strong for him. The rulers of that people—Pharisee, Sadducee, and Herodian, scribe and lawyer—were now marshalled against him in one compact phalanx, throughout all the coasts of Galilee, as well as in Judea. His disciples, rough, most of them peasants, full of patriotism, but with small power of insight or self-control, were melting away from a leader who, while he refused them active service under a patriot chief at open war with Cæsar and his legions, bewildered them by assuming titles and talking to them in language which they could not understand. They were longing for one who would rally them against the Roman oppressor, and give them a chance, at any rate, of winning their own land again, purged of the heathen and free from tribute. Such an one would be worth following to the death. But what could they make of this “Son of Man,” who would prove his title to that name by giving his body and pouring out his blood for the life of man—of this “Son of God,” who spoke of redeeming mankind and exalting mankind to God’s right hand, instead of exalting the Jew to the head of mankind?