Acts 28:30-31

And Paul dwelt two whole years in his own hired house.

Paul’s two years’ ministry in his own hired house

Here his biographer takes leave of Paul. The curtain falls on the great actor. The greatest life has a close. These verses suggest--

I. The essence of Christianity.

1. “Those things which concern the Lord Jesus Christ”--not the things which concern religious speculations or organisations.

2. The reign of God over the human soul, “the kingdom of God.” The grand aim of Christ’s mission was to establish this, and nothing lay so near His heart. This was what He urged men to seek and to pray for, and what He illustrated in His parables. For this He works now, and will work until “the kingdoms of this world shall be the kingdoms of our God.”

II. The trials of its disciples.

1. That the best of us are not to expect exemption from trials. Let us not murmur. Paul felt that his were for his good, and “gloried in tribulations.”

2. That the most useful minister is not essential to Christ. He who laboured more than all is now under restraint. Let no man overrate his services.

III. The mission of Christ’s ministers.

1. Paul’s “preaching” was “teaching”--not declamation, or a repetition of platitudes however logically or rhetorically put. This implies learning on the part of the hearer, and superior intelligence on the part of the minister.

2. His teaching was the indoctrinating of men in Christian essentials.

IV. The force of its influence.

1. Of its soul sustaining influence--“With all confidence”--in the midst of enemies.

2. Of its aggressive influence (Philippians 1:12; Philemon 1:10). (D. Thomas, D. D.)

Christ’s finished and unfinished work

(with Acts 1:1):--So begins and so ends this book. I connect the commencement and the close, because I think that the juxtaposition throws great light upon the purpose of the writer, and suggests some very important lessons. The reference to “the former treatise” (which is, of course, the Gospel according to Luke) implies that this book is to be regarded as its sequel, and the terms of the reference show the writer’s own conception of what he was going to do in his second volume. “The former treatise have I made … of all that Jesus began both to do and teach until the day in which He was taken up.” Is not the natural inference that the latter treatise will tell us what Jesus continued “to do and teach” after He was taken up? So, then, the name “the Acts of the Apostles,” which is not coeval with the book itself, is somewhat of a misnomer. Most of the apostles are never heard of in it. There are, at the most, only three or four of them concerning whom anything in the book is recorded. But our first text supplies a deeper reason for regarding that title as inadequate, and even misleading. For, if the theme of the story be what Christ did, then the book is, not the “Acts of the Apostles,” but the acts of Jesus Christ through His servants. That conception of the purpose of the book seems to me to have light cast upon it by, and to explain, the singular abruptness of the conclusion which must strike every reader. The historian lays down his pen, possibly because he had brought his narrative up to date. But a word of conclusion explaining that it was so would have been very natural, and its absence must have had some reason. It is also possible that the arrival of the apostle in the imperial city, and his unhindered liberty of preaching there, in the very centre of power, the focus of intellectual life, and the hot bed of corruption for the known world, may have seemed to the writer an epoch which rounded off his story. But I think that the reason for the abruptness of the record’s close is to be found in the continuity of the work of which it tells a part. It is the unfinished record of an incomplete work. The theme is the work of Christ through the ages, of which each successive depository of His energies can do but a small portion, and must leave that portion unfinished, the book does not so much end as stop. It is a fragment because the work of which it tells of is not yet a whole.

I. First, then, we have here the suggestion of what Christ began to do and teach on earth. Now, at first sight, the words of our text seem to be in strange and startling contradiction to the solemn cry which rang out of the darkness upon Calvary. Jesus said, “It is finished! and gave up the ghost.” Luke says He “began to do and teach.” Is there any contradiction between the two? Certainly not. It is one thing to lay a foundation; it is another thing to build a house. And the work of laying the foundation must be finished before the work of building the structure upon it can be begun. The former is the work of Christ which was finished on earth; the latter is the work which is continuous throughout the ages. “He began to do and teach,” not in the sense that any should come after Him and do--as the disciples of most great discoverers and thinkers have had to do: systematise, rectify, and complete the first glimpses of truth which the Master had given. “He began to do and teach,” not in the sense that after He had passed into the heavens any new truth or force can for evermore be imparted to humanity in regard of the subjects which He taught and the energies which He brought. But whilst thus His work is complete His earthly work is also initial. And we must remember that whatever distinction my text may mean to draw between the work of Christ in the past and that in the present and the future, it does not mean to imply that when He ascended up on high He had not completed the task for which He came, or that the world had to wait for anything more, either from Him or from others, to eke out the imperfections of His doctrine or the insufficiencies of His work.

II. But then, secondly, we have to notice what Christ continues to do and to teach after his ascension. I have already suggested that the phraseology of the first of my texts naturally leads to the conclusion that the theme of this book of the Acts is the continuous work of the ascended Saviour, and that the language is not forced by being thus interpreted is very obvious to anyone who will glance even cursorily over the contents of the book itself. For there is nothing in it more obvious and remarkable than the way in which, at every turn in the narrative, all is referred to Jesus Christ Himself. He only is the Actor; men are His implements and instruments. The same point of view is suggested by another of the characteristics of this book, which it shares in common with all Scripture narratives, and that is the stolid indifference with which it picks up and drops men, according to the degree in which, for the moment, they are the instruments of Christ’s power. As long as God uses a man the man is of interest to the writer of the Scripture. When God uses another one, they drop the first, and have no more care about him, because their theme is not men and their doings, but God’s doings through men. On us, and in us, and by us, and for us, if we are His servants, Jesus Christ is working all through the ages. He is the Lord of providence, He is the King of history, in His hand is the book with the seven seals; He sends His Spirit, and where His Spirit is He is; and what His Spirit does He does. And thus He continues to teach and to work from His throne in the heavens. Now these truths of our Lord’s continuous activity in teaching and working from heaven may yield us some not unimportant lessons. What a depth and warmth and reality the thoughts give to the Christian’s relation to Jesus Christ! What a sweetness and sacredness such thoughts impart to all external events, which we may regard as being the operation of His love, and moved by the hands that were nailed to the Cross for us, and now hold the sceptre of the universe for the blessing of mankind. What a fountain of hope they open in estimating future probabilities of victory for truth and goodness!

III. Lastly, we note the incompleteness of each man’s share in the great work. As I said, the book which is to tell the story of Christ’s continuous work from heaven must stop abruptly. There is no help for it. If it was a history of Paul it would need to be wound up to an end and a selvage put to it, but as it is the history of Christ’s working, the web is not half finished, and the shuttle stops in the middle of a cast. The book must be incomplete because the work of which it is the record does not end until He shall have delivered up the kingdom to the Father, and God shall be all in all. So the work of each man is but a fragment of that great work. Every man inherits unfinished tasks from his predecessors, and leaves unfinished tasks to his successors. It is, as it used to be in the middle ages, when the men that dug the foundations, or laid the first courses of some great cathedral, were dead long generations before the gilded cross was set on the apex of the needle spire, and the glowing glass filled in to the painted windows. Enough for us if we lay a stone, though it be but one stone in one of the courses of the great building. (A. Maclaren, D. D.)

Paul’s two years in Rome

By this time we ought to be independent of the historian and to be able to write Paul’s diary with our own hand. There are some friends we need not consult because we know exactly how they would address themselves to every embarrassment. The historian pays us a compliment in condensing into two little verses the industry of two years in Rome, as if he should say, “You know how the years would be occupied.” A prisoner who has a case on appeal, how will he occupy himself during that period of waiting? If you inquire about a stranger, you will say, “He will spend his time in setting up his case.” Is Paul occupied in getting up his case? Read verse 31. At the last as at the first--just the same. In other cities Paul went about finding opportunities, opening doors and boldly entering in. Is he doing that now during those two years in Rome? Observe the construction of the sentence and make your own inference. “Paul dwelt”--Paul “received all that came in unto him.” But Paul occupied his two years in doing something more than preaching. He would have been but a name today had he not occupied his time in writing his immortal epistles. Only a few can ever hear the living voice; but the writing lives. What should we have known of Paul but for the Epistles?

I. Let us look into Philippians. What an insight that gives us into his life at Rome.

1. In Acts 1:12 we read: “I would ye should understand, brethren, that the things which happened unto me”--he makes nothing of them where we should have made a great moan--“have fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel.” In prison or out of prison Paul was occupied with one theme. Read verse 28, “in nothing terrified by your adversaries,” etc.” The encouragement comes from the man with whom we were about to sympathise. Read Acts 4:4. When we opened the letter we said: “Where is there a man amongst us with voice plaintive enough to read the minor music?” Read, again, Acts 1:21, and you will find the basis line upon which the whole is built. There is not a word about the appeal; the only reference is to Christ and to the Church. Was there not great basis of doctrine under all this high sentiment? Read Acts 2:5. But was Paul speaking after the manner of a man who had counted the cost of this? Did he really know what he was doing? Read Acts 3:7. But was he one who had nothing to lose? Hear him in the same chapter: “If any other man thinketh that he hath whereof he might trust in the flesh, I more,” etc. Reading this letter, I have no hesitation in saying that men with such views cannot be in prison. The views themselves are like a great firmament. Such men cannot want (Acts 4:11, etc.). Nero is a poor man compared with his prisoner, and such men cannot die (Acts 3:20). Do you admire Paul in these circumstances? Paul was only Paul because Christ was Christ. When Paul receives our homage he points us in one direction, and says, “God forbid that I should glory,” etc.

II. Let us now look into Ephesians. In Acts 3:1 he describes himself as “the prisoner of Jesus Christ for you Gentiles,” in Acts 4:1 as “the prisoner of the Lord,” in chap. viz 20 as “an ambassador in bonds.” This is the way in which to use a chain, an infirmity of any kind. Paul does not whine about himself being a prisoner; but says, “It is the Lord’s chain.” He is not a prisoner of Caesar, but a prisoner of Christ. Look at his care of souls (Ephesians 1:16). He asked no mean gifts for the Christian soul, but all heaven’s riches. Then his care for the Church as a whole (Ephesians 4:32). He lays an infinite line even upon social relations, differences, and controversies, and rules them into order by the very grandeur of his appeal. People have admired the apostle’s logic; my own feeling is that none could love like Paul. Next we have his care for the family. Not one member of the household is omitted (Ephesians 5:25, etc.).

III. Let us now look into Colossians. In the last line he says, “Remember my bonds.” A word is enough to those whose hearts are in right tune. How did the great apostle regard his fellow labourers? Did he so tower above them as to be unconscious of their existence? (Read Acts 4:10; Acts 4:12; Acts 4:14.) Paul did not forget anybody. No touch of a gentle hand ever escaped his notice, who stands next to Christ in the wisdom and penetration of his love. And if the servant does not forget, can He forget who is Master? The Lord is not unrighteous to forget your work of faith and labour of love.

IV. Let us look into Philemon. Paul entreats Philemon as “Paul the aged.” Cunning writer! He was not “Paul the aged” when labour was to be done, when suffering was to be undergone, when tyrants were to be faced; but when a slave was to be reinstated, Paul thought that if he represented himself as an old man, it would have a happy effect upon the sensibilities of Philemon. I do not know that Paul would have cared to have been called “Paul the aged,” yet he is willing to describe himself as such, because that might count for something and moisten the eyes of Philemon. Talk about the equality of men, and the over getting of social difficulties; read verse 17. This is said about a runaway, penitent slave! Why, he could not have given a nobler introduction to Caesar. This is what Christianity would do today: bring back every man that had wronged you, bring back every wanderer and reconstruct the household circle. Christianity harmonises the classes, not by dragging any class down, but by lifting all classes up. Paul said, with the audacity of an invincible faith, “If he hath wronged thee, or oweth thee aught, put that on mine account”--a man who had not where to lay his head! But he knew he could pay all such obligations as that: “Albeit I do not say to thee how thou owest unto me even thine own self besides.” Yes, these are the great debts that exist between man and man--not a debt of gold, but the debt of self. This is the debt which people owe to the great authors, thinkers, and preachers of the day. Conclusion: These are the letters; is the writer a fanatic? I will believe it when fanatics reason as he does. Is he a self-seeker? I will believe it when self-seekers suffer as he did. When you want to know what Christians are, do not look at us, but look at Paul. We ought to follow him as he followed Christ. (J. Parker, D. D.)

Paul’s two years’ residence at Rome

I. The time which the apostle spent at Rome. Two years complete.

1. The emperor was too much occupied with his guilty pleasures to be in haste to attend to this serious business, and the officers of state were not authorised to dismiss untried an appellant to Caesar; while the chiefs of the Jewish nation durst not appear as prosecutors.

2. So long an abode at Rome, with liberty of action, whatever indignity was put upon his person, was a high privilege. There were at Rome so many men of inquisitive minds, and abundant leisure, that his house must have been thronged. “He received all that came,” with open arms and heart.

3. The Church, however, I conclude, continued to meet in its former place; its own pastor or bishop, and other officers. Of Paul’s being bishop there is not the most distant hint. The apostles are never called bishops; for they held a higher office, incompatible with that of bishop or pastor, and to call an apostle a bishop, was as left-handed a compliment as it would be to call a king a mayor. Had any apostle been bishop of Rome, unquestionably it was Paul; but, strange to tell, Peter has been paraded as such. Had he been there, he would have been out of his diocese, for he was the apostle--not of the Gentiles, which was Paul’s office--but of the Jews. Accordingly, the last time Peter is seen he is pursuing his vocation to the twelve tribes, “scattered abroad through Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia.” Nor is it recorded in Scripture that he ever was at Rome. Numerous circumstances make it incredible that he had been there up to this. Paul had, a few years before, written to the Romans, but no mention is made of Peter. Paul gave this reason for longing to see them, “that he might impart to them some spiritual gift,” which Peter, had he been there, must have imparted. Paul arrives at Rome, and the Christians come out to meet him; but not a word is said then, or during the two years he spent there, of Peter. Letters were written from Rome by Paul, but not one of them contains a salutation from Peter. What! was he such a nonentity that his coming to Rome was so unimportant that of this the Divine oracles are dumb, while Paul’s voyage and journey thither form the most conspicuous portion of the inspired history? The world is filled with Paul’s letters from Rome; but it never hears a word from Peter, except from the Church at Babylon! Verily, Peter may say to the Romans, “Save me from my friends.” I have, however, asserted nothing concerning Peter’s suffering martyrdom at Rome, which is just barely possible. But that he did not found the “Apostolic See” is certain, for he was engaged in Syria till near the time when Aquila and Priscilla, members of that Church, were driven from Rome by Claudius. The “strangers from Rome,” who were at Jerusalem at the day of Pentecost, seem to have carried the first tidings of the gospel to Rome; and, therefore, it was no apostolic see, even if Peter and Paul, on a visit, presided there; for this apostles did at many places which are never called apostolic sees.

II. The employment of the apostle.

1. It was that of a herald proclaiming, as the original signifies, the kingdom of God. For the Sovereign of that kingdom sent forth His apostles to proclaim His ascension to the throne, and to call upon all nations to bow to His sceptre. A dangerous theme at Rome, under the eye of Nero! But it should be recollected that the apostle had already taught the Roman Church obedience to civil government. The Romans had learned from the Stoics, and especially Nero, from Seneca, that a good man is a king. Pilate, having received Christ’s good confession, “I am a King,” showed no jealous alarm, but said, “I find no fault in Him.” Such a kingdom as Paul preached could create no fear of its being “hurtful to governors and kings.” Civil government will be rendered more easy and more safe, as it certainly will be more equitable and more beneficial, by the universal prevalence of the kingdom of God. But had Paul’s proclamation of the kingdom included such a domination as popes afterwards set up at Rome, he would never have been permitted to act as its herald, where Nero reigned.

2. But he was “teaching the things concerning the Lord Jesus Christ.” While he was on this theme, a prison was to him a paradise.

3. That he spake “with all boldness,” or freedom, we are assured. A chain on his arm, and a soldier by his side, would have intimidated some men. It is a shame to us to speak of the Lord Jesus as if we were ashamed of Him. (J. Bennett, D. D.)

Paul at Rome: the preacher in chains, or the Word of God not bound

It is bound--

I. To no place. Thrust out of Jerusalem, the old city of God, the apostle erects his pulpit in the Gentile capital of the world.

II. By no power. The might of Rome was as little able as the hatred of the Jews to close the mouth of the apostle.

III. To no man. After Paul had finished his course, and sealed his testimony with his blood, the preaching of the Cross proceeded victoriously over the earth. (K. Gerok.)

Paul a prisoner at Rome today as he was eighteen hundred years ago

1. Paul the herald of evangelical liberty, bound by the fetters of human ordinances.

2. Paul the preacher of justification by faith, bound under the law of external righteousness of works.

3. Paul the man of apostolic poverty and humility, bound beside the splendour and pomp of the Popish dominion. (K. Gerok.)

Patti’s situation

It is obvious that he would not have been allowed to seek a lodging in the Jewish quarter beyond the Tiber, since he would be obliged to consult the convenience of the successions of soldiers who kept guard over him; and it is most likely therefore that his “hired apartment” was within close range of the Praetorian camp. Amongst the prisoners there he might have seen the Jewish priests who had been sent to Rome by Felix, and who won from their nation so much approval by their sufferings through abstinence from unclean meats. Here, too, he may have seen Caradoc, the British prince whose heroic resistance and simple dignity extorted praise even from Roman enemies. Considering that he was a prisoner his life was not dull. He had to put up with “the law’s delays,” perhaps through the loss, during shipwreck, of the eulogium of Festus, the non-appearance of his accusers, or the inhuman carelessness of Nero. But he was safe from the perils and tumults of the past twenty years, and exempt from the hard necessity of earning his daily bread. And if he was neglected by Jews he was acceptable to many Gentiles; if his gospel was mutilated by unworthy preachers, still Christ was preached; if his bonds were irksome they inspired others with zeal and courage; if one form of activity had been restrained, others were still open to him, and while he was strengthening distant Churches by his letters and emissaries, he was making God’s message known more and more widely in imperial Rome. (Archdeacon Farrar.)

The quiet disappearance of Paul at the close of the apostolic history

It points to--

1. The exalted Lord of the Church who abides, although His servants disappear.

2. The blessed rest into which God’s faithful servants are permitted to enter after the well-concluded day of work.

3. The work of faith and labour of love left behind to us from these first chosen witnesses.

4. The great day which will bring to light all that is now dark in the history of the kingdom of God. (K. Gerok.)

“The Acts” no fragment

The conclusion indeed comes to us too early; there are many things we would wish to know, yet we have enough. We have--

1. The laying of the foundation stone of the Church against which the gates of hell shall not prevail.

2. The mighty acts of the Saviour, who is with His people always, even unto the end of the world.

3. A mine of wholesome doctrine, secure comfort, and impressive example for the Church of all ages. (K. Gerok.)

The close of “the Acts”

Note--

I. The eras of a wonderful history.

1. The close of one chapter in Church history. The book began with Peter’s sermon at Jerusalem, and now closes with Paul’s ministry in Rome. What a marvellous history it is. “The course of the gospel from Jerusalem to Rome,” says Lange, “is--

(1) A painful course, full of shame and persecution.

(2) A heroic course, full of the power of faith and love.

(3) A victorious course, full of mighty acts and Divine wonders.

(4) A blessed course, full of salvation and grace for ‘the present and the future.’”

2. The beginning of a new chapter in Church history. From Rome the gospel starts on a new course, and fulfils the promise at the commencement of the book. “Ye shall be My witness both in Jerusalem and in all Judaea, and in Samaria, unto the uttermost parts of the earth.”

II. The mightiness of a Christ-inspired man. Who can read this account of Paul without feeling that he was animated by a spirit, not of earth, nor of any human school of religion or morals, but by the Spirit of Him who gave His life a ransom to save the lost? He acknowledged this. “The love of Christ constraineth me.” “I live, yet not I, but Christ that liveth in me.” By sin we have lost our manhood; we are mean and cowardly. The Spirit of Christ can alone restore the true heart of humanity.

III. The mysterious method of Divine working. It was God’s purpose that the gospel should be preached in Rome. But how was this purpose fulfilled?

1. By one man. One might have expected an army of messengers. Numbers, however, in moral campaigns are secondary considerations. The one true man does the work.

2. One man, who is a prisoner. One might have thought that the Almighty Master would have guarded His messenger, and made his path straight and illustrious. But “God’s ways are not our ways, nor His thoughts our thoughts.”

IV. The fragmentary character of sacred history. Here the curtain drops upon the unfinished life of Paul. Curiosity craves for minute information concerning the closing scenes in the life of this wonderful man, but Scripture offers no gratification. Fuller details are--

1. Unnecessary. Luke has given sufficient memoranda of this man’s life to enable us to judge how sublimely he passed through the last scenes. The acts of a man’s daily life, and not the details of his death bed, are the best criteria of his soul life.

2. Would, perhaps, have been inexpedient. God is as kind in concealing as He is in revealing. Were the Bible to give us a full account of all the men it refers to, it would be a volume of unreadable dimensions, and would rather pander to the curiosity than advance the culture of humanity. (D. Thomas, D. D.)

The prison literature of the Christian Church

To Paul’s prison life in Rome we owe some of the most important and consolatory Epistles. And he is not the only Christian prisoner who has been busy for God and man. Savonarola wrote his commentaries on Psalms 31:1; Psalms 51:1 during his month of imprisonment before his execution, which show that though he had much spiritual conflict, neither his faith nor his comfort yielded. The gentle Anne Askew, who was burnt at Smithfield, wrote the night before she suffered--

“Like as an armed knight appointed to the field

With this world will I fight, and faith shall be my shield.
Faith is that weapon strong which will not fail at need,
My foes therefore among therewith will I proceed.
I now rejoice in heart, and hope bids me do so,

That Christ will take my part, and ease me of my woe.”

Tyndale, to whom more than any other we owe our English Bible, wrote, during his imprisonment at Vilvorde, to the governor of the castle, asking for some articles of dress in a style that reminds us of Paul’s request that Timothy should bring his cloak from Troas; and then goes on to say: “But above all I entreat and beseech your clemency to be urgent with the procureur that he may kindly permit me to have my Hebrew Bible, Grammar, and Dictionary, that I may spend my time with my study.” Ridley wrote in the interval between his condemnation and execution, a long “farewell to all his true and noble friends in God,” which contains these sentences: “I warn you all, my well-beloved kinsfolk and countrymen, that ye be not amazed or astonished at the kind of my departure and dissolution, for I assure you I think it is the greatest honour that ever I was called unto in my life. For you know I no more doubt but that the causes whereof I am put to death are God’s causes and the causes of truth, than I doubt that John’s Gospel is the gospel of Christ, or that Paul’s Epistles are the very Word of God.” And only a short time before Lady Jane Grey, in sending, on the eve of her execution, her Greek Testament to her sister, wrote: “I am assured that I shall for the losing of a mortal life find an immortal felicity, the which I pray God grant you and enable you of His grace to live in His fear and die in the true Christian faith, from the which, in God’s name, I exhort you that you never swerve, neither for hope of life nor fear of death.” The hymn “Jerusalem, my happy home,” was, in one of its versions, composed by Francis Baker while a prisoner in the Tower, and in the same fortress Sir Walter Raleigh composed his “History of the World,” and wrote poems, of which the following is a specimen:--

“Rise my soul, with thy desires, to heaven,

And with divinest contemplation use
Thy time, where time’s eternity is given.
And let vain thoughts no more thy thoughts abuse,
But down in midnight darkness let them lie;
So live thy better, let thy worse thoughts die
And thou, my soul, inspired with sacred flame,
View and review, with most regardful eye,
Thy holy Cross, whence thy salvation came;
On which thy Saviour and thy sin did die;
For in that sacred object is much pleasure,

And in that Saviour is thy life, thy treasure.”

Everybody knows that Bunyan’s “Pilgrim’s Progress” was the fruit of his labours in Bedford Gaol; and as the joy bells of the new Jerusalem kept ringing in his ears he forgot the vileness of the “cage” wherein he was confined. Not so well known are the letters of Samuel Rutherford, so unique for their unction and holy rapture, yet many of them were written from Aberdeen, to which city he had been confined by the Court of High Commission. George Wither, the Puritan poet, whose quaint motto was, “I grow and wither, both together,” had a chequered career, and many of his best pieces were composed in prison. His “Prison Meditation” has preserved his experiences for us:--

“While here I bide, though I unworthy be,

Do Thou provide all needful things for me,
And though friends grow unkind in my distress,
Yet leave not Thou Thy servant comfortless.
So, though in thrall my body must remain,
In mind I shall some freedom still retain;
And wiser made by this restraint shall be

Than if I had, until my death, been free.”

Who, having read, can ever forget the lines of Madam Guyon under similar circumstances?--

“My cage confines me round, abroad I cannot fly,

But though my wing is closely bound, my heart’s at liberty.

My prison walls cannot control the flight, the freedom of the soul.”

James Montgomery, wrote a whole volume of “Prison Amusements” while he was confined in York Castle, the victim of political injustice; and the hymn beginning “Spirit, leave thy house of clay” was composed in the same place on the occasion of the death of one of his fellow prisoners, who with seven others had suffered the loss of all worldly goods for conscience’ sake. And to mention no more, what an interesting record is that of the imprisonment in Burma of the sainted Judson for two years, during which he composed the beautiful paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer, commencing, “Our Father God, who art in heaven.” Now compare all this with the melancholy lines of Ovid and the letters of Cicero during their exile. The latter discover a pusillanimity humiliating to contemplate, and it would have been better for the orator’s reputation if they had been destroyed. The same thing has come out in the prison experiences of many others who, being without God, were also without hope in the world, Now how shall we account for the difference? Simply by the sustaining grace of the Lord Jesus. One of the greatest triumphs of modern horology is the construction of a chronometer with a compensation balance which keeps it moving at the same rate in every temperature. What that balance is to the timepiece, the grace of God is to the believer’s heart. It gives him equanimity in all experiences. It makes prosperity safe and adversity salutary. It puts for him a rainbow in every cloud, opens a fountain in every wilderness, and gives a song for every night. (W. M. Taylor, D. D.)

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