The Convert

“See me, see me — once a rebel,
Vanquish’d at His cross I lie;
Cross! to tame earth’s proudest able!
Who was e’er so proud as 1 1
He convinced me; He subdued me;
He chastised me; He renew’d me.
The nails that nail’d — the spear that slew Him,
Transfix’d my heart, and bound it to Him.
See me, see me — once a rebel,
Vanquish’d at His cross I lie.”

“Grace came, omnipotent grace, and the rampart of that great soul fell like the walls of Jericho; the impregnable citadel was carried in an hour, and all its ample magazines were redeemed for the service of the Lord.”

he flames of persecution were now fairly lighted. The Jewish Sanhedrim waxed fiercer than ever in their hatred to the disciples of Jesus. Soon, alas! did the Saviour’s words come true, John xvi. 2 — “They shall put you out of the synagogues: yea, the time cometh, that whosoever killeth you will think that he doeth God service.” We are not, indeed, warranted to suppose that the Sanhedrim were permitted to persecute unto death. Stephen’s martyrdom was doubtless an act of treason against the government of the land, and, at other times, would have been dealt with as such. But Pilate had now been deposed, his successor was not yet appointed, and the Jews felt themselves at guilty liberty to commit this cold-blooded murder.

Although it is not probable the repetition of such a violation of law would be allowed, no such interference was made in the case of lesser cruelties.

The “young man Saul,” now advancing to manhood, is elected one of the council; and he seems to exceed all the others in the amount of his rage and fury against the followers of Jesus. “He made havoc of the Church,” seizing not only on men, and making them the objects of his cruelty, but women also were bound in chains and put in prison. Sometimes he was not even satisfied with this, but had individuals ready to whip and scourge them. By making them thus suffer torture, he tried to induce them to blaspheme the name of Jesus.

Think, in this happy and favoured age and country of ours, what all these poor Christians must have been suffering then in Jerusalem! The old and infirm — the Simeons and Annas — who had had the evening of their days gladdened by that bright Gospel Sun which others had only seen afar off — think of their tottering frames borne down with heavy irons, their hoary locks in vain appealing for mercy! Think of the daughters of Jerusalem — the wives and mothers who once had wept for the Lord they so loved, when they saw Him carrying his cross — now called to weep and carry that cross for themselves — their helpless children torn from them because they would not deny the name of Him who was dearer than the dearest on earth! In connexion with these dreadful doings, the cruelty of the Rabbi of Tarsus was known hundreds of miles off. “How much evil he had done to the saints of God at Jerusalem!” * Little was he aware, at the time, how literally true

* Acts ix. 13. the saying of his future Lord and Master would be in his case — “With what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again!” He had taken part in “stoning,” “scourging,” “imprisoning.” In all the three, he himself was yet to “bear, in his own body, the marks of the Lord Jesus!”

I do not think, however, that we can argue from this, as many have done, that Saul was naturally of a savage and cruel nature. He was a true and sincere worshipper of God, and a person of correct life. He tells us himself that “as touching the righteousness of the law, he was blameless.” It rats- a blind and erroneous zealf in what he supposed was the cause of truth, which led him to such acts of oppression. He thought all the time he was “doing God service,” and that the more he shewed his hatred to Jesus and his people, God would love him the more. His own words are striking — “I verily thought I ought” — (it was a false sense of duty) — “to do many things contrary to the name of Jesus of Nazareth.” * Besides, the principles of toleration prized and acted on in our happy country were not known in his time, or at least never manifested. We may be struck indeed at the amount and bitterness of his persecuting zeal; we read that he was “breathing out threatenings and slaughter” (with all the ferocity of a wild beast, as the word means). This may at first sight seem strange, if what we have a little ago said be true, that he was impressed with Stephen’s holy death. But alas! this is often one out of many ways that people take to resist conviction, and thereby to silence the voice of conscience. Just as the sun, shining upon a stagnant pool, draws

* Acts xxvi. 9. D forth from it only noxious vapours, so the holy radiance on the countenance of the martyr seemed but to extract stronger feelings of hatred from the proud heart of the persecutor. As a writer has well said, “The arrow of conviction, when it fails to bring the sinner bleeding to Christ, saying, ‘What must I do to be saved % ’ seldom fails to exasperate his natural enmity so as to rouse his violent opposition to Christ and his cause; insomuch that, when at any time we see a man breathing out violence and threatenings against the ministers or people of God, we are ready to think that at one time that sinner must have had an arrow sticking fast in his conscience, and that he is uneasy and restless and wretched within, in consequence of its rankling and festering sore.”* These dreadful scenes and cruelties in which Saul now engaged, were like scorpion-stings afterwards to his warm and tender heart. They pained and lacerated him more than the thongs of the gaoler, or the rough irons that bound him — “I am the least of the apostles,” he says, “that am not meet to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the Church of God.” + “Beyond measure I persecuted the Church and wasted it.” J

Till now the Gospel had been principally, if not altogether, preached in the city of Jerusalem; but these mournful cruelties were beginning to scatter the disciples among the neighbouring provinces of Judea, and even among the countries beyond. Philip, Stephen’s old companion and friend, was preaching and working miracles in Samaria, and Peter and John shortly after followed him there on the same errand. Thus the rage of the persecutors was overruled by Divine Pro-

* Buchanan On the Holy Spirit, p. 291. t 1 Cor. xv. 9. J Gal. i. 13. vidence for the spread of the glad tidings of salvation in other lands. The martyrdom of Stephen was like the fall of the forest tree, which, as it comes with a crash to the ground, scatters its seeds on every side.

These seeds, however, are not to be allowed long to rest in peace. The Christians who had taken refuge in other lands are to be hunted out by this fierce zealot as well as when they were within the walls of Jerusalem. Where is he to begin his new warfare 1 what spot does he fix upon first, in order to spring upon his unoffending prey 1

There was a city far north of Palestine, Damascus, the capital of Syria, where many of the poor saints had taken refuge, and where many more, by their preaching and influence, had become disciples of the Lord Jesus. Saul could of himself exercise no authority at a distance; but he received from Theophilus, the high priest in Jerusalem, letters to the Jewish synagogues in Damascus, in order that he might seize hold of all the converts he could find there — “any of this way” (as he in words of bitter contempt expresses it), whether they were men or women, and bring them bound to the prisons in Jerusalem.

You have heard of the Crusaders of the middle ages, who went to Palestine to fight for the Holy Sepulchre, and how manfully they endured every kind of hardship and suffering in what they thought was a holy enterprise. You have heard of the poor wretched Hindus in India travelling on their knees for hundreds of miles, under a burning sun, to the temples of their idol deities, thinking thus to obtain their favour. Never, we believe, did Pilgrim, or Crusader, or Hindu, set out with a more honest conviction that he was “doing God service,” than did Saul of Tarsus at this time to the Syrian capital.

To explain this “authority from the high priest,” it must be borne in mind that the Roman emperors, though ever jealous about giving their own power to others, had (since the reign of Julius Caesar) invested the Jewish high priest, as head of the Sanhedrim, with full authority over all Israelites who might be living in foreign cities, — at least to the extent of “excommunication, scourging, and imprisonment.” When they wished to enforce any of these, “a mandate” was sent by the hands of a special messenger (as was the case now with Saul) to the synagogue of the city where the Jews resided, whom they wished to punish.*

What a journey was this! how much hung upon it! and yet the Bible throws no light upon the journey itself — as to what route the future apostle took, or who were wTith him. There were several ways by which he could reach Damascus; but as it is more than likely that by this time the Roman roads were made through Judea,t we may suppose that Saul, mounted on horseback and surrounded with his companions, proceeded out of the north-western gate of Jerusalem, taking the great paved road, whose remains are traced at the present day, similar to the paved highways we shall afterwards come to speak of in Italy, and other countries.:y;

It has been attempted to give a precise date to this memorable journey — about November a. d. 37, a few months after Stephen’s martyrdom. It may help to

* Lew in.

t For a description of the different routes from Jerusalem to Damascus, see Conybeare and Howson. We have adopted the one selected by them as most probable.

t Biblical Researches, vol. iii. p. 77.

assist our impression of the incidents connected with it, to assume the date to be the correct one. The usual time which modern companies take to travel between Jerusalem and Damascus is a week — the distance being 136 miles. On the supposition that Saul and his companions were a mounted band, they would do it sooner; but it would seem, from his own description, that the party in this respect very nearly resembled caravans in the present day, some being mounted, and some on foot.* Ascending the ridge, on the left of which are the tombs of the Judges, they would wend their way across a hill which was to become more memorable, some years later, as that where the Roman standards were first planted by Titus when he came against Jerusalem. The temple has now sunk from the view of the travellers, and the road lies, with many devious windings, through a mountainous district, till they come to Eamah of Benjamin. Two cities of a similar name open upon them right and left. The former, Gibeah of Saul, could not be without interest to the young Pharisee, who proudly bore the name of Israel’s first king. Here was the monarch’s birthplace. They could follow in thought his brave son in his midnight exploit, with his armour-bearer, when he left his father’s tent under the pomegranate tree in Gibeah, and by the morning the Philistines were fleeing in disorder over the plain. The city, towards the right, had recollections equally interesting. It was over the walls of Gibeon that, at the command of Joshua, the sun stood still in the heavens. Here, under David and Solomon, the tabernacle had for many years been set up, and the latter monarch, on ascending the throne,

* Lewin.

offered up his thousand burnt-offerings. They hasten onwards through a rocky country, occasionally relieved by gentle slopes or artificial terraces, where the melon and cucumber are found cultivated along with patches of grain. The eye of the inquisitor is doubtless intent on the great object of his journey; he may have little inclination to gaze on the various spots of renown which are crossing his path; but surely he could not pass Bethel without a solemn pause and many hallowed remembrances. Was* this the spot he had so often read of in his Tarsus home, where father Jacob had taken the stones of the place for his pillow, and saw the ladder stretching down from heaven to earth — the angels of God travelling up and down upon it? The impressive typical meaning of that vision was to young Saul yet sealed. He had yet to know the glory of that mediatorial work which connected earth with heaven — the sinner with God. Who can tell but these same angels that hovered over the weary patriarch 1700 years before, had now “charge given them to encamp” around another erring fugitive! If there be “joy in heaven among the angels of God over every sinner that repenteth,” what must that joy be when they can bear tidings to the throne that there is one weeping at the cross like Saul of Tarsus!

But they pursue their way. Shiloh was the last place of note they passed before entering the hills of Samaria. Here they could not fail to think of the touching story of old Eli and the youthful Samuel; but there was nothing in the town itself to attract attention. Ever since the “Ark of God” had been taken from it by the Philistines, Shiloh had sunk into insignificance. Perhaps, from some height here, the young

Benjamite may have got a glimpse of the blue mountains bounding the horizon on the north; they are the heights of Gilboa. On yonder mountain side, the stately king, whose birthplace he had recently passed, fell, when “the archers hit him, and he was sore wounded of the archers.” He might see, or fancy he saw, the direction by which the messenger hurried along to Ziklag with the crown and bracelet of the fallen monarch, carrying the heavy tidings to David that “the beauty of Israel had been slain upon the high

After crossing the hills of Ephraim, we may listen in thought to their horses’ hoofs sounding along the winding valley between Ebal and Gerizim, close to Sychar. They may have even possibly paused to refresh themselves at the very fountain — the well of Jacob — where a Samaritan woman had the water of life first pointed out to her.

If we have said in a former chapter that the glories of Lebanon and Carmel must have been much the same in the days of Saul as now, we may say the same of this lovely valley for while the features of nature in her bold mountains and valleys never can be changed, the old Shechem of Scripture still survives when many other towns and villages of Palestine have been swept away. As Saul rode through its groves and orchards, scenes which have met the eye of recent travellers were those most likely to meet his own. “A beautiful stream would be running through the valley, and a shepherd might be seen seated on its bank, playing a reed-pipe, with his flock feeding quietly around him.”” Along the valley he might behold a company of Ishmaelites coming from Gilead, as in the days of

-r)C> THE FOOTSTEPS OP ST PAUL.

Reuben and Judah, with their camels ’ bearing spicery, and balm, and myrrh, who would gladly have purchased another Joseph of his brethren, and conveyed him as a slave to some Potiphar in Egypt. Upon the hills around, flocks and herds might be feeding as of old; nor, in the simple garb of the shepherds of Samaria, would there be anything to contradict the notions he might entertain of the appearance formerly exhibited by the sons of Jacob.” *

Samaria is soon passed, and Galilee is entered. They have reached a lofty ridge from which they look down into the deep basin of the Sea of Tiberias — that spot which had become sacred with the presence and deeds of a Greater than the greatest of apostles. It was there that a mighty Voice had stilled a furious tempest, and rescued a sinking disciple; the same Voice and the same Hand was ere long, by a mightier miracle, to rescue him who now rode unconcerned along its white pebbly beech! Crossing to its other side, they come in view of Capernaum and Bethsaida. Boats might be flitting, as they passed, to and fro in the calm surface of the lake, in which probably Peter, and James, and Andrew, and John, once sat and toiled, and in which Jesus had sat along with them.

After the hills which rose on the eastern side of the lake have been climbed, the view becomes quite altered; the land of mountains and valleys is about to be left behind, and one vast plain, extending for miles on miles, stretches before them. Towards the extreme north, the brow of Hermon, white with snow as if hoary with age, towered far up in the blue sky. It formed the highest point in the range of Mount Leba-

* Stephen’s Travels, and Clarke’s Travels, quoted by Wylie. noil — the giant boundary-line of the north of Palestine, and which now lay right between the persecutor and his native Cilicia. The journey presently is over a flat and even country, but wasted, dry, and sterile. A hot burning sun pours its rays down upon their heads, and many a league has to be trodden before their eyes are gladdened with cooling streams or welcome shade. At last, in the far distance, a dotted streak of sparklingwhite greets their vision, and circling lines, glancing in the sun, seem to mark the presence of a flowing river. It is their longed-for city — the towers and pinnacles of great Damascus.

“The mid-day sun, with fiercest glare,
Broods o’er the hazy twinkling air,

Along the level sand.
The palm-tree’s shade unwavering lies,
Just as thy towers, Damascus, rise

To greet yon wearied hand.” *

Damascus, the “head” or capital of Syria, is one of the oldest towns in the world. When the patriarch Abraham lived, Damascus was built. His trusty and faithful servant was “Eliezer of Damascus.” In the reign of David and Solomon, it carried on an extensive trade with neighbouring and distant cities. The prophet Ezekiel speaks particularly of its commerce with Tyre — “its wares, emeralds, purple and broidered work, the wine of Helbon, and white wool.” While Nineveh can only be dug out of its grave, and the ruins of Babylon can scarcely be found, Damascus remains a great and beautiful city to this day, the wonder of all travellers, with its busy throng of 120,000 inhabitants, its same bright white buildings, its long streets, its busy bazaars, its sparkling fountains, its

* Christian Year.

lovely palm-trees and delicious fruits.* It is called by eastern writers, “a pearl surrounded by emeralds.” Abana and Pharpar, the rivers which Naaman of old liked “better than all the waters of Israel,” and which (united) the ancient geographers knew by the name of “the Golden Stream,” t still come tumbling down from the heights of Lebanon, and wind in graceful curves through the long flat plains, carrying beauty and freshness in their course, more especially around the rich gardens and forests of olive-trees in which the city itself is embosomed.

It is said of an Arabian prince, that when he was on his way to Damascus, and first beheld it, he stopped his horse and refused to go any further, erecting on the spot where its towers first burst upon his view, a monument with the following inscription: — “I expect to enter one Paradise, but if I enter this city, I shall be so ravished with its beauties as to lose sight of the Paradise which I hope to enter.”

“We were looking down,” says a recent traveller, “from an elevation of 1000 feet, upon a vast plain bordered in the distance by blue mountains, and occupied by a rich luxuriant forest of the walnut, the fig, the pomegranate, the plum, the apricot, the citron, the locust, the pear, and the apple, forming a waving grove of more than fifty miles in circuit.... Then conceive our sensations to see, grandly rising in the distance,... the swelling leaden domes, the gilded crescents, and the marble minarets of Damascus, while in the centre of all, winding toward the city, ran the main stream of the river Barrada.”;y;

* Among these is the well-known Damson, or Damascene plum. f Bible Cyclopaedia. % Addison.

Truly we need not be surprised at Naaman thinking more of his own native rivers, the Scripture “streams from Lebanon,” than all the waters of Syria; for the former, with their “golden streams,” and never-failing ones, too (as Amana or Abana literally means), make Damascus, though on the borders of a desert, one of the loveliest spots on earth; while the rivers of Judea (the Jordan excepted), are small and scanty, and their narrow rocky channels generally dry in the summer.*

It “may be further interesting to mention, that Christian missionaries are at this day labouring among the Jewish population of Damascus, which recently amounted to the number of 5000.

But to return. We may imagine the band of horsemen, with the fiery Cilician at their head, nearing the walls of this “eye of the east.” The sun of the last day of their journey is brightly shining upon them. They are hopeful that they will, ere long, either be screened from the sultry heat in the house of one of their brethren, or at all events attain the cooling shade of one of the many avenues leading to the city. Soon they are riding along among palm, orange, and citron groves, getting, through some occasional openings, a glimpse of Mount Hermon. Natural and artificial streams are murmuring at their feet. Birds with their lovely plumage are hiding themselves among the branches. Creeping flowers in endless variety and beauty, and especially among these the Damascus (or Damask) rose, are diffusing a grateful perfume all around. In the distance, they may see mules and camels approaching the city from other quarters, laden with goods and merchandise, just as at this day cara-

* Bible Cyclopaedia.

vans are still observed carrying Indian manufactures in great quantities from Bagdad, or from Mecca and Aleppo. The words of a modern writer* may, with little alteration, have described what Saul and his followers beheld — “The rich turbans and flowing robes of respectable merchants, are finely contrasted with the rude sheep-skin covering of the mountaineer, and the dark abba of the wandering Arab.”

They are riding along with no thought but that their errand will soon be done. They are thinking of the number of their victims, and how they will best be able to return with them through these burning plains —

“The leader of that martial crew
Seems bent some mighty deed to do,

So steadily he speeds;
With lips firm closed and fixed eye,
Like warrior when the fight is nigh,
So steadily he speeds.”

And now they have reached a spot half a mile from Damascus, where, at the present day, there is a village called El-Kochaba (caucabe), or “the star” (brightness), from the marvellous occurrence we are now to relate. t

But what is this! In a moment they are stopped on the way. One of them reels from his horse and foils senseless to the ground. It is mid-day — the sun is right above their heads in the cloudless sky; but a light brighter than even a bright Eastern sun dazzles their eyes. It is a “great light,” and it shines “suddenly” upon them. They are all struck for the moment speechless!

The others at least cannot tell why they should tremble so, for they neither “hear any voice nor see any vision.” It was different with their chief. The

* See Biblical Keepsake. t Bible Cyclopazdia

Jew of Tarsus is lying speechless on the earth; but in his ear there sound some strange and thrilling words. He lifts up his eye towards the awful brightness. It is nothing else than the emblem of God’s presence — the “shekinah” or “glory,” which he had often heard of as dwelling in the tabernacle of old, and in the Holy of holies in the temple. But it is no mere light — no mere vision which he sees. There is a glorious Person also. It is Jesus of Nazareth whom he persecuted. He leaves us no doubt, in other places where he speaks of this great event in his history, that it was actually Jesus in his glorified person he beheld, — “Have I not seen the Lord?” — and, “Last of all he was seen of me also.” And Ananias we shall presently find saying to him, “The Lord, even Jesus, who appeared to thee in the way as thou earnest.” Saul knows Him at once! Jesus addresses him in the Hebrew tongue — the same language in which He had conversed with his twelve disciples. He names him! and in mingled tenderness and rebuke thus speaks, “Saul! Saul! why persecutest thou me?” as if He said, “It is not my poor innocent people you are cruel to, but what you do to them I feel as if you were doing to me, — in hurting them you are hurting me.” What a gracious, tender word of this gracious Saviour! What a laying bare of his loving heart! What even was Stephen’s dying love to this 1 If we may suppose Saul venturing to reply, and saying, “When persecuted I thee? I took no part in the awful scenes of Gethsemane and Calvary! I formed not one of the assassin band. I gave thee no traitor’s kiss. I weaved for thee no crown of twisted thorns. I plunged no rough iron into thy side. My tongue was not raised to add to thy last agonies, mockery and insult.” The reply was ready. “Inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me.“* The awe-struck horseman, scarce knowing what he says, replies, ° Who art thou, Lord 1” The answer comes from the same glorified lips, “I am Jesus of Nazareth whom thou persecutest.” + “I am that very Jesus whom thou thoughtest to be a despised and crucified malefactor; but I am the Lord of glory — 1 1 am Jesus of Nazareth’ — the name thou wert in the habit of using in mockery, calling me and my people the Nazarenes.” The whole current of Saul’s thoughts must have been in a moment changed. What! Jesus of Nazareth, whom he had imagined was a mere pretender and impostor — Jesus, whom he really supposed to have been crucified as a wicked person, dying between thieves, and laid dead in the grave! Could it be that all this while he had been wrong in thinking him a deceiver — that he had been all this while guiltily “fighting against God V Yes — he looks up to that awful brightness, and a glance there tells him that he iras wrong — that that glorious Being is “that same Jesus” — risen, exalted, glorified! It was a silent sermon (but a far more solemn and powerful one than Peter preached to the thousands at Pentecost) on the text, “Him hath God exalted to be a prince and a Saviour.” It wras the wdiole Gospel Christ the Son of God is shining above his head in glory brighter than the brightness of the sun! No wonder the awe-struck persecutor lies powerless on the ground, “trembling and astonished.” “What!” we may suppose him saying to himself,” Jesus! to whom all power is committed. May he not have come to seal my blaspheming lips for ever? There

* Blunt. t Acts xxii. 8.

surely can be no hope for me, I have been rushing with madness against the thick bosses of his buckler. I have been hunting down the innocent sheep of this gracious Shepherd, and in injuring them I have been injuring Him. I can surely listen for nothing from his lips but words of sternest rebuke and vengeance!” He listens; but there is no terror or upbraiding in the voice. Jesus proceeds to soothe with words and tones of kindness his agitated spirit.

“It is hard,” he says, “for thee to kick against the pricks.” Our Lord, when he was on earth, often employed terms taken from common customs to enforce his sayings. He does so here in speaking from heaven. It was the habit in Judea for the man who was at the side of oxen, to have a goad or pointed steel to drive them with. Often these animals would refuse to move; they would kick and grow restive when their master was goading them on. When they did so, lie only applied the pointed steel more severely, and they found it was vain to resist. Jesus says the same to Saul, — “It is hard for thee” There was fresh discovery here, too, of love. He does not say, “It is hard for me;” but, “It is hard for thee;” as if he had said, “Poor man, thou art wronging thyself, Saul. It is of no use thy attempting to resist my grace; I have long had great things in store for thee. Thou need’st try no longer to be my enemy; I have marked thee out for* a great apostle. It is hard for thee to go any longer against my bidding. I have struck thee down a persecutor; I will raise thee up ’ a chosen vessel unto me.’” It was even so. He can no longer “fight against God.” He sees — he trembles — he believes — he rejoices! That look of mingled reproof and love which smote Peter to the heart, melted a harder still. As he beholds the vision and listens to the words of mercy, he can say, “He loved me, and gave himself for me” As Benjamin, the youngest of the twelve sons of Jacob, was at last brought to see Joseph in Egypt, so Saul, of Benjamin, the youngest of the twelve aposles, “as one born out of due time,” has the true Joseph at last revealed to him. He can say, “This is our brother, he talks kindly to us.” The same adorable Lord and Saviour further proceeds to tell him, ere he vanishes from his sight, that Pie is to send him forth to be His minister “to the Gentiles, to open their eyes, and to turn them from darkness unto light, and from the power of Satan unto God.” He had just pleaded with him in tenderness and love, now He speaks to him with the authority of his risen and glorified Master — the Sovereign in whose ranks he was now to fight — “Arise, and go into the city.” There he was to be told what in future he was “to be, to do, and to suffer.”

After a few brief moments of terror, the brightness is past — the voice is hushed. He who fell a bigoted Pharisee, is now an humble and humbled follower of Jesus. A glorious light is shining in his soul; but the dazzling brightness had been too much for his bodily eyes. He rises stone-blind! What a different entrance through the Damascus gate! * The proud horseman is led by the hand as a little child, along the street called “Straight,” t to the house of one named Judas.

* “On the 25th day of January, anuually, the Christiansen Damascus walk in procession to the scene of the conversion, and read the history of it from the Acts of the Apostles, under the protection of a guard furnished by the Paclia.” — Biblical Keepsake.

t To the indifferent crowd that thronged the street, there would be little worthy of attention in a blind Jew being conducted along. Yet was there more true interest, more real greatness, and more momentous results con-Interesting and strange spectacle! “Whosoever,” says Christ, “shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, shall in no wise enter therein.” Such a little child had the bold and proud Israelite of Tarsus become — “born again” by “the Word of God which liveth and abideth for ever.” He is heard engaged in prayer — prayer, the “cry of the new creature” — that blessed means by which he and all who have trodden his steps, “out of weakness have been made strong, waxed valiant in fight, and turned to flight the armies of the aliens.”*

We have been already led more than once to mark points of resemblance or comparison between the early history of Luther and that of Saul. We cannot resist adverting, in passing, to a remarkable similarity in this the great turning point of their two lives. Luther, when in the prime of youthful manhood, was returning one day from his father’s house at Mansfield, to resume his labours at the university ot Erfurth. All at once a thunder-storm overtook him. The lightning flashed fearfully and vividly around him, and one bolt fell and burst at his side. That road was to him a Damascus highway! His troubled conscience was” roused from its depths. He threw

aected with this event than with the most gorgeous of Eistern processions or the grandest of Roman triumphs. One cannot help thinking, in contrast with it, of another very different cavalcade which takes place in Damascus year after year in honour of another “Apostle,” whose influence on the human race (though an influence of falsehood and delusion) is only second to that of the Apostle Paul.” Every year the standard of the false prophet (Mahomet) is displayed. It is of green silk, with passages from the Koran embroidered in gold, and the camel which bears it is ever after exempted from labour. The Koran itself is also carried by the pilgrims, bound in silk, and borne by a camel richly caparisoned, around which armed Mussulmcn are stationed, playing on all kinds of instruments.” * Heb. ad. 34.

E himself, like Saul of Tarsus, on his knees. Death, judgment, and eternity, were before him; and with all the terrible thoughts of how unprepared he would be to meet his Judge, he vowed that if it pleased God to rescue him from these “terrors of death,” he would leave the world, and give himself entirely to religion. From that hour he was an altered man. The age of miracles and special visions had now indeed gone by. No “Lord Jesus” did appear to him visibly and personally “by the way,” as he had done to his other servant; but He whose “voice is the thunder” had spoken to him in language he could never forget. Humbled and trembling, he puts the very same question which the awe-struck persecutor put fifteen centuries before — “Lord, what wouldest thou have me to do?” A great work truly God had in reserve for both these “sons of thunder.” Those two quiet spots in Asia and Europe — the one on the way to Damascus, the other on the road to Erfurth, must be memorable to all time.* Meanwhile, we shall leave the elder apostle in the lonely chamber of the “Straight street” of Damascus. The owner of the house, and perhaps some of his companions, beheld with amazement the blinded traveller on his knees, calling again and ao’ain in some such words as these, he came afterwards to write, “Jesus! Jesus! Thou Son of God, whose grace I have so long despised! This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptation, that Thou didst come into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the chief!”

* Rubianus, one of Luther’s friends at the University of Erfurth, wrote to him at a later period, — “Divine Providence looked to what thou wast one day to become, when, on thy return from the house of thy parents, fire from heaven made thee, like another Paul, fall to the ground, near the city of Erfartb, and snatching thee from our society, drove thee to enter the sect of Augustine.” — D’Aubigne’s History of the Reformation.