Then, lest the fulness of their wrath should fall upon the little band of His disciples, He pleaded for their liberty:
"If therefore ye seek Me, let these go their way."
The great sinewy hands were laid upon His shoulders that had still to bear so much. Fiercely, unnecessarily, they pulled Him hither and thither, shaking and pressing Him who wished but to obey.
He was their prisoner now. The final act of the world's great tragedy was still to be accomplished; the foulest depths of man's iniquity to be plumbed, and the full measure of the blasphemy to be revealed. Their prisoner, He who had been daily amongst them, in the Temple, on the mountains, by the seashore!
Then Peter, unable any longer to bear the strain, impetuous, hasty, longing to wipe out his carelessness and sleep, cried out: "Lord, shall we smite with the sword?"
And, without waiting for an answer, he seized his sword, and cut off the ear of Malchus, who, besides being in the service of Caiaphas, was his kinsman.
As usual, Peter had committed an act that would suffice only to incense still more the party of Caiaphas against the Christ. A spasm of pain crossed the face of Jesus. This was no time for wrath, or cavilling, or pitting strength against strength. It was a time when only truth and meekness could prevail, if aught could prevail against the prince of this world and those urged on by him. But He could nullify this foolish action. With infinite gentleness He touched the ear and it was healed.
"Suffer me thus far," He said. Then, turning
