The laying down of life is not only the foundation of a new life for ourselves but also the foundation of a new life for others, just as the laying down of our Lord’s life has brought forth its abundant harvest all through the years.

It is the laying down of life for the sake of the harvest; it is the grain of wheat falling into the ground to die in order that it may not abide alone.

John Coleridge Patterson’s life was equipped with every gift to make it rich and happy in his own land, yet he laid it down to go to his hard and toilsome life in the South Seas. Had he been asked, “Are you regretful for what you have turned your back upon?” he would have answered, “The promise has been fulfilled to me.”

An American consul general in China once said to Matthew Culbertson, “You might have been a major-general if you had stayed at home.” He had been the best man in his class at West Point, but his mother’s prayers had borne their fruitage, and he became a missionary. He was the man of military genius in Shanghai’s time of need. “No,” he said, “I do not regret it. The privilege of preaching the Gospel to four hundred million of one’s fellow creatures is the greatest privilege any man can have on earth.” He had found his life!

To be sure, Livingstone lost his life, but he had found another —a life which spread through Africa, which abides in Africa, which molded the world’s thought of Africa.

Henry Martyn put his hand to the plow with these words, “Now, let me burn out for God!” No “looking back.” No relinquishing the handles even for a holiday!

Think of James Gilmore in Mongolia in his uncompanioned life!

Mongolia stretches from the Sea of Japan on the east to Turkestan on the west—a distance of three thousand miles; from the southern boundary of Asiatic Russia to the Great Wall of China—nine hundred miles. What a field! But what a plowman! He died in the furrow!

More than two thousand years ago our Lord lost His life and His fame. Or did He?

Speak, history! Who are life’s victors? Unveil thy long annals and say, Are they those whom the world calls the victors, who won the success of a day? Thy martyrs, or Nero? The Spartans, who fell at Thermopylae’s tryst, or the Persians and Xerxes? His judges, or Socrates? Pilate or Christ?

WILLIAM WETMORE STORY