The Footsteps of St. Paul

“Sweetly wild! sweetly wild!

Were the scenes that charm’d me when a child.

Rocks — grey rocks, with their tracery dark,

Leaping rills, like the diamond spark,

Torrent voices thundering by,

When the pride of the vernal floods swell’d high.

It was sweet to sit till the sun laid down
At the gate of the west nis golden crown.

Sweetly wild! sweetly wild! Were the scenes that charm’d me when a child.”

Mrs Sigourney.

row. look at the map of Asia,
you will see, to the north-west
& ‘. of Palestine, washed by the

blue waters of the Mediterranean, -the country of Asia Minor. In the south-east corner of it, running parallel with the coast, are the Alps of that region — the high mountain range of the Taurus. As the snow which covers their summits is melted by the sun’s heat, many rivulets flow down to water and refresh the thirsty plains below. A stream larger than the rest is seen to dash its way, first through the rocks and valleys of the upper regions, and then to wind its dark and sluggish*

* The name of the river now is “Kara Su,” or “Black water,” and it must have greatly changed its course, as it is now more than a mile from the modern Tarsoos. course through the rich level country bordering on the sea.

The name of the river is the Cydnus, and of the province Cilicia. You may try to form a picture to yourselves of the animated scenes on its banks at the time of which I am going to write. Women coming down to fetch water, with veils over their faces, and pitchers on their heads; shepherds playing on their reeds, with their flocks of goats and sheep browsing around them. Now and then, bands or caravans of merchants from distant parts, with camels bearing spices and wools, are glad to pause at mid-day, under the shade of the palm-trees which cast their beautiful reflection in the stream, and there get refreshment ere they pursue their journey.

Following this river in its course from the mountains, you come to the walls of the large town of Tarsus, which, at the same period, formed the capital or chief city of the country. It wras beautifully situated among luxuriant gardens; the houses wTere ranged in the form of a half-circle on either side of the river, giving it something of the shape of the wings of a bird. If you had gone inside its walls, you would have seen a great variety of faces and dress, and heard spoken many different languages. Sometimes you would meet wTith native Cilicians; at other times you could not mistake the features of Jews, or Greek merchants, or haughty Romans. Like the greater portion of the known world, Cilicia and Tarsus had fallen into the hands of the Emperor Csesar. Roman soldiers would be seen now and then pacing up and dowm its streets; Roman ships wrere sailing up the Cydnus into its harbour, and with Roman names and signs painted on them, filling its docks. It enjoyed privileges, however, peculiar to several Roman towns. It was one of those cities which was called Libera or free. It was ruled by its own magistrates, and had its own laws, just as is the case with some modern cities on the continent of Europe, such as Frankfort-on-the-Maine, Hamburg, Lubeck, Bremen, and others. These, for special reasons, while remaining under the protection of Prussia and Austria, have an independent government of their own, as Tarsus had under the broad shadow of imperial Rome.

In other and more important respects, Tarsus was “no mean city.” One of the three great universities, or seats of learning, in the world, at that time, was within its gates; those of Athens and Alexandria being the other two. Many of the young men trained at the Tarsus schools were found afterwards at Rome, tutors in the highest families of the state, and even in the palace of the emperor on the Palatine. Indeed, at this very time, a philosopher named Nestor, who had been tutor to Marcellus, the nephew of Augustus, was ruler of the city.

Along the banks of the Cydnus there was a lawn of grass, with shady trees similar to our modern parks. Aged philosophers and learned men, with their long beards, might be seen walking up and down engaged in deep thought or earnest discussion; while youths of the university, at their holiday hours, were busy practising those athletic games which were so famous among the Greeks. I daresay the young Tarsians would have among themselves their own trials of strength — running, leaping, wrestling, boxing. They would have their own mimic crowns of olive or laurel to put on the brow of youthful victors; and doubtless would often talk about the day when they would be able to go to Corinth, and take part in its well-known contests.’”

It was in a house in this Cilician city that “Saul of Tarsus” was born. People go to a great distance to visit the birthplaces of famous men. There are spots on the earth’s surface which will be ever memorable as being the scenes of the childhood of Cassar and Alexander, Luther and Melancthon, Howard and Wilberforce. We shall find afterwards, that the little reedthatched cottage, where Romulus the founder of Rome was born, was preserved sacred and untouched among the splendid palaces on the Palatine. What an interest must gather around the birthplace of one who, in the highest spiritual sense, was hero, scholar, philanthropist, all in one, — the greatest of those “great men” who have left their “footprints on the sands of time!”

I remember looking down several years ago in Switzerland on the little rill flowing out of that vast wall of ice, “the Rhone glacier.” What interest was connected with it as the commencement of that giant river which sweeps past the walls of Lyons and Avignon, and waters the most fertile provinces of France! From Tarsus and its snow-capped Taurus, we watch the first tiny rill of a more glorious river, “the streams whereof,” in every land and under every clime, have “made glad the city of God.”

I cannot tell you the exact year in which Saul’s birth took place. It was, however, at a most memorable era of the world’s history. When he was lying

* Sec Strabo, the geographer, who lived in the same age of which we write. — Bonk xiv., vol. ii. an infant in his cradle in Tarsus, there were other little children training up by God in other places for great duties and great services.* On the banks of a solitary lake in the land of Judea, there were a number of youths about that same time going out day after day with their fathers fishing in their boats, or helping them to mend their nets on the beach. These were afterwards to become the apostles of Christianity. There was a little child who was recently born in the old city of Hebron, a son of a priest, who was ere long to appear as a great preacher to prepare the way of the Lord, saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand;” and more interesting and solemn still, while Saul lfas an infant boy at Tarsus, there was a wondrous Being in an infant’s form growing up at Nazareth, — it was the holy child Jesus, the promised Messiah! Little did the proud world know the worth that was contained in these two distant homes — two helpless children unknown to one another; but the one was the Son of the eternal God, the Redeemer of mankind; the other, His greatest minister and apostle. As regards even the political history of the world, the period of Saul’s birth was an eventful one. Augustus, the greatest of the Roman emperors, was on the throne of the Caesars; his vast dominion extended over a large portion of the human race; the wealth of his capital was unbounded; its temples were filled with the spoils of conquered nations; the ruins of vast buildings, aqueducts, arches, bridges, and harbours, remain to this day, to tell the grandeur of what was called by the poets “the golden age.” Alas! it was but a painted glory; like the whited sepulchres of the

Keep reading