wholly to that perfect sacrifice of the
Great Priest, we too become priests and our poor gift is accepted.

But another possibility than that of a life of running and labour
presented itself to Paul, and it is a revelation of the tranquillity of
his heart in the midst of impending danger, all the more pathetic
because it is entirely unconscious, that he should be free to cast his
anticipations into that calm metaphor of being, 'offered upon the
sacrifice and service of your faith.' His heart beats no faster, nor
does the faintest shadow of reluctance cross his will, when he thinks of
his death. All the repulsive accompaniments of a Roman execution fade
away from his imagination. These are but negligible accidents; the
substantial reality which obscures them all is that his blood will be
poured out as a libation, and that by it his brethren's faith will be
strengthened. To this man death had finally and completely ceased to be
a terror, and had become what it should be to all Christians, a
voluntary surrender to God, an offering to Him, an act of worship, of
trust, and of thankful praise. Seneca, in his death, poured out a
libation to Jupiter the Liberator, and if we could only know beforehand
what death delivers us from, and admits us to, we should not be so prone
to call it 'the last enemy.' What Paul's death was for himself in the
process of his perfecting called forth, and warranted, the 'joy' with
which he anticipated it. It did no more for him than it will do for each
of us, and if our vision were as clear, and our faith as firm as his, we
should be more ready than, alas! we too often are, to catch up the
exulting note with which he hails the possibility of its coming.

But it is not the personal bearing only of his death that gives him joy.
He thinks of it mainly as contributing to the furtherance of the faith
of others. For that end he was spending the effort and toil of an
effortful and toilsome life, and was equally ready to meet a violent and
shameful death. He knew that 'the blood of the martyrs is the seed of
the Church,' and rejoiced, and called upon his brethren also to 'joy
and rejoice' with him in his shedding of his martyr's blood.

The Philippians might well have thought, as we all are tempted to think,
that the withdrawal of those round whom our hearts desperately cling,
and who seem to us to bring love and trust nearer to us, can only be
loss, but surely the example in our text may well speak to ou