 10. An ambassador in bonds. The safety of his prisoner secured, the tribune Lucius informed the Jews that the case had been transferred to the governor of Caesarea, to whom they had better go if they wished to give evidence. The high priest set off at once with his friends, but as they could not speak Greek, they engaged a lawyer named Tertulus to plead their cause before Felix. The court having assembled, Tertulus began his speech with a few compliments adroitly addressed to the governor. Not only was Paul a pestilent fellow, he argued, a razor of seditions and a ringleader of the sect of the Nazarenes. He had even made an attempt to profane the temple. If the tribune Lucius had only allowed them to manage their own affairs, he hinted delicately, all this turmoil might have been avoided, for the Jews were obviously the right people to deal with such a case. Since, however, he had chosen to use violence, a riot had resulted for which they were not in the least to blame. The Jews would bear witness to his words that these things were true. A chorus of assent greeted the close of his speech, when Paul, at a sign from Felix, began his defense. It was but twelve days, he said, since he had arrived in Jerusalem, whether he had come on an errand of charity. During this time he had neither preached in public nor disputed, but had remained quietly in the temple at prayer. Concerning the accusation of heresy, it was true that he was of the sect that they denounced, notwithstanding which, he firmly believed all that was written in the law and the prophets, and looked for the resurrection of the dead, which the Jews themselves acknowledged. The Sanhedrin had been able to prove nothing against him, when Lucius had brought him before them. The men who had laid hands on him in the temple were certain Jews from Asia. Since it was they who had brought the accusation against him, why were they not there? Felix was in difficulty. He would adjourn the case, he said, until the tribune Lucius should be present. Unwilling to offend the Jews by setting Paul at liberty, yet fearful of the risk of passing an unjust judgment, he kept Paul for two years in prison. The soldiers received orders to treat him kindly and to allow his friends to visit him. For Felix, who was not above taking bribes, hoped that the prisoner might persuade some of his well-to-do converts to pay handsomely for his release. Timothy and Luke hastened to Caesarea with other faithful friends of the Apostle. The Christians flocked to visit him. He could continue his apostolate even thus, a touching and pathetic figure, and ambassador in chain. But Felix's career of iniquity came abruptly to an end. He was called suddenly to Rome in disgrace, and Portius Festus, an honest and upright man, was appointed in his stead. Anxious to know something of the people over whom he was called to rule, the new governor went up to Jerusalem. There he was assailed by the Jews, who demanded that Paul should be sent to them for trial. They had resolved, if their requests were granted, to weigh lay and murder him on their road. But Festus refused to give up his prisoner. Let them bring their complaints to Caesarea, he said, and he would give a fair judgment according to the Roman law. This, however, was more difficult than he had imagined. The Jews repeated the old charges, and Paul met them with the same quiet denial. Festus was all together at a loss. He was anxious if it could be done without injustice to conciliate the Jews. Was Paul willing, he asked, to go to Jerusalem to be judged by the Sanhedrin in his presence? The apostle well knew the uselessness of such a proceeding. I stand at Caesar's tribunal, he said, to Caesar I appeal. Nothing remained for Festus but to send his prisoner to Rome to be tried before the Emperor's court. But it was his duty to send an account of the case against him, and Festus was thoroughly puzzled as to what he should write. A few days later King Herod Agrippa came to Caesarea with his sister Baranis to pay his respects to the new governor. He was a Jew, and Festus resolved to consult him on the matter. Here was a man, he said, who appeared to him entirely innocent, but against whom the Jews seemed bitterly prejudiced on account of some question of religion. One Jesus whom they declared to be dead, Paul affirmed, was alive. Herod's interest was roused. He would like to see this man, he said, and hear what he had to say. The next day a brilliant assembly was held in the governor's hall of audience, at which Herod Agrippa and his sister, with all their court were present. Paul was led in, and Festus, having briefly stated the facts to Agrippa, invited the prisoner to speak. It was the wonderful story of his life that Paul told, as he stood before them in chains, worn with the labors and hardships he had borne for Christ. His sole crime, he said, was his belief in the resurrection of the dead. Did it seem so strange a thing to Herod, himself a Jew? As to the charge of preaching Jesus of Natharis, it was in obedience to the divine revelation at Damascus that he had done so. Because of this the Jews had sought to kill him, yet he had preached only what Moses and the prophets had foretold, that the Christ must suffer and rise again, to be the light of the chosen people and of the Gentiles. To Festus, Paul's impassioned words seemed like the raving of one demented. Much learning has made you mad, Paul, he said, you are beside yourself. I am not mad, most excellent Festus, replied Paul gently. I speak sober words and Jew. Then, turning to Herod, who had seemed impressed by what he had said, Do you believe the prophets, King Agrippa? he asked him. I know that you believe them. Paul's words had astonished Herod. He had felt himself moved against his will, by that burning tide of eloquence. The question brought him suddenly to himself. A little more and you would persuade me to be a Christian, he answered half-loving. Paul's eyes swept the circle of faces before him. With a sudden passionate gesture he raised his feathered hands to heaven. I would to God, he cried, that you and all who are here with you today were altogether such as I am. The sound of the change reminded him suddenly of his condition, except these bones he added softly, and the soldiers led him from the hole. This man has done nothing worthy of prison or of death, was the general verdict. He might have been set free if he had not appealed to Caesar. It was too late. He had appealed to Rome, and to Rome he must go. He was therefore confided to the care of a centurion called Julius, who was about to embark with a convoy of prisoners for Italy. Luke and Aristarchus, a faithful disciple of Thessalonica, were allowed to go with him, for Julius had received orders to treat Paul with kindness and courtesy. The ship in which they sailed from Myra was a grain transport on its way from Alexandria to Naples. The wind was against them and they pushed on with difficulty to a small bay called Fairhaven's, on the southern coast of Crete. It was not a good harbor to winter in, but the dangerous season had already begun, and a question arose as to whether it would not be wiser to remain there, rather than run the risk of seeking a better. Paul was strongly in favour of the former course. He warned them that they would risk both the cargo and the lives of the passengers if they continued the journey. Julius, however, was more ready to agree with the captain and the pilot, who were anxious to reach Venice. Taking advantage of what looked like the promise of calm weather, they put out to sea, and were sailing along the coast of the island, when a sudden hurricane swept down on them through the clefts of the Cretan mountains. There was nothing to be done but to let the ship drive with the wind, and to hope against hope that she might be able to stand the terrible strain. Beaten and tempest tossed, fearing at one moment to fall into the quicksands, and at another to be hurled upon the rocks, the terrified crew lightened the ship by casting overboard the greater part of the cargo. The next day, all that could be spared of the ship's tackle was sacrificed, but still the storm continued, seeming rather to increase in fury than to show signs of clearing. A thick darkness enveloped the vessel, while the sailors losing courage gave up all hope and resigned themselves to their fate, refusing even to take food. But there was one man on board for whom death had no terrors. You would have done better, said Paul to his terrified shipmates, to have listened to my advice and to have remained in harbor. But now, since we have incurred this danger, hear my words and take courage. This night, there stood by me an angel of the Lord, whose I am and whom I serve. Fear not, Paul, he said, for you shall stand at Caesar's tribunal, and God has given you all that are with you in the ship. Take heart, therefore, for as it has been told me, so shall it be. On they drove through the raging storm and the darkness until, one fearful night, they sighted land. Sounding, they found that the water grew shallower as they advanced. They had not been mistaken. But what kind of coast were they approaching? Had they escaped so far only to fall upon the rocks? Casting out four anchors from the stern, they waited anxiously for the day. The sailors in the meantime, knowing that land was near, and thinking only of their own safety, proceeded under pretense of being busy about the anchors to lower the boat. But Paul's watchful eyes were upon them. He warned Julius, who gave orders to the soldiers to cut the ropes, and the boat fell into the sea. The terrified and fasting passengers were in no condition to battle for their lives. Taking bread in his hands, Paul gave thanks to God, broke it and partook of it before them, inducing them to follow his example. For none of them, he said, would be drowned. Strengthened by their repose, they proceeded to cast overboard all that remained of the cargo of grain, and by this time it was already day. It was an unknown coast that the first streaks of dawn revealed to them. They lay directly opposite a small creek or bay into which they resolved, if possible, to run the ship. Cutting the cables, they hoisted her sail to the wind, and made for the opening. But midway between them and the shore was a shore, or reef, on which the ship ran aground. The fore part of the vessel stuck fast, while the hinder part, was rapidly being beaten to pieces by the waves. Swimming was now the only chance of safety, but it also was a chance of escape for the prisoners. The soldiers would have put them all to death as the safest and shortest way, but Julius, anxious to save Paul, intervened. Let those who could swim, he said, leave the ship at once, that reaching land, they might do what they could to help the others. The rest, seizing boats and planks and anything they could find, cast themselves overboard, and all reached the shore in safety. The inhabitants of the island, who had hastened to the spot, treated the shipwrecked crew with great kindness. It was the island of Melita or Malta, they said, as they made a fire to dry the shivering strangers. Paul, who was working with them, had just thrown a bundle of sticks into the flames, when a viper, roused by the heat, fastened on him with its poisonous fangs. The islanders, seeing the venomous creature hanging from his hand, concluded that the vengeance of heaven was pursuing him. He is a murderer, they whispered among themselves, who has only escaped the dangers of the sea to perish on land. Paul, who had shaken off the serpent into the fire, seemed alone unconcerned at the occurrence. The people, expecting every moment to see him drop down dead, were astonished beyond words as time went by and no evil effects followed. Opinions suddenly changed. This man must be a god, they said. Death has no power to harm him. Subsequent events only increased their veneration for the stranger. The father of Publius, the governor of Melita, who had received the travelers into his house, was cured by Paul of a dangerous illness. The news spread fast. All that were sick in the island hastened to the Apostle and were healed. Souls as well as bodies drew new life from his presence. The islanders could not do enough to honour the guest that God had sent them. And three months later, when the dangers of the winter being over, a ship from Alexandria cast anchor in the harbour of Melita. It was a sorrowful company that escorted Paul and his companions to the seashore and bade them a sad farewell. Landing at Puteoli, the Centurion Julius, having remained a few days at Naples, that Paul might visit the brethren, set out with his prisoners and his troop to Rome. The Christian community had heard of the Apostle's arrival and came a long way out to meet him. Cheered and encouraged by their loving reception, he entered the city, where, seven years later, he was to meet Amartar's death. End of Chapter 10 Chapter 11 of The Life of Saint Paul This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Life of Saint Paul by Francis Alice Forbes Chapter 11. The City That Has Foundations The Roman authorities treated Paul with indulgence, for the report of Festus had been strongly in his favour, and the Centurion Julius had nothing but good to say of his prisoner. He was allowed to live in a private lodging of his own, where everyone who wished might come to him. This was all that the Apostle desired, for to a certain extent it made it possible for him to continue his ministry. That he was a prisoner he could never for a moment forget. For a soldier of the Priatorian Guard, whose wrist was fastened by a light chain to his own, was responsible for his safety, and was always at his side. Never for one moment could he be alone. But what to most people would have been an intolerable burden was to him but another chance of winning a soul to Christ. The keepers succeeded each other at intervals. All but the most brutal of these men must have felt Paul's influence, drawing them to higher and nobler things. Some, in their turn, probably became apostles, and spread the face of Christ amongst their fellow soldiers. For the number of Christians in Rome increased greatly during the time of Paul's imprisonment. The Apostle's first thought was as usual for those of his own nation. He sent messages to the chief men amongst the Jews, begging them to come to him. It was hard indeed to discourage this great-hearted servant of Christ. From the Jews he had received, on his own evidence, five cruel scourgings. Since the moment when he had fled from Damascus to escape their vengeance, they had plotted to murder him in nearly every city where he had breached the faith. His imprisonment at Cicarea and in Rome was there doing. Yet now, when they came to him and answered to his message, he could say to them in all sincerity that he had nothing of which to accuse his nation. Disappointment awaited him here as elsewhere. The greater number refused to believe the Gospel. He could forgive and forget their treatment of himself, but not their treatment of his master. Well did Isaiah's prophecy of you, he cried, with the ear you shall hear and shall not understand, and seeing you shall see and shall not perceive. Know therefore that the salvation of God is sent to the Gentiles and they will hear it. There was already a large Christian community in Rome, amongst whose members were many old friends of earlier days. Scattered abroad, through the cities of Greece and Macedonia, by the edict of Claudius, they had now returned, for Claudius was dead, and a monster called Nero sat on the imperial throne. There were Christians even in the household of the emperor, for his wild beast nature had not as yet fully revealed itself. Christians amongst the noblest families in the city, as well as amongst the poorest. Mark was in Rome, and Paul could now speak of him as a true and faithful friend. Bring Mark with you, for he is profitable to me for the ministry. He was to write in later years to Timothy. Epaphroditus, a faithful disciple of Philippi, had arrived in Rome with offerings from the Philippians. Lydia and her friends had heard of his imprisonment, and were ready to do all they could to prove their affection and sympathy. Epaphroditus had fallen ill and had been sick nigh unto death since his arrival. Paul hastened to send by the hands of Timothy a letter full of love and gratitude to the Christians at Philippi, thanking them for their kind thought of him. Their beloved Epaphroditus God had cured, he told them, lest I should have sorrow upon sorrow. The Ephesians had also heard of Paul's imprisonment, and were overwhelmed by the news. The Apostle dispatched Tihikus to Ephesus with a letter of comfort. Paul was the prisoner of Jesus Christ, he reminded them, praying them not to faint at my tribulation for you, which is your glory. Luke, the most dear physician, was with him, and the faithful Aristarchus, Dimas also, who was later under the stress of persecution to fall away from the faith, and other disciples. The preaching of this ambassador in a chain touched the Gentiles to the heart, and strengthened the Christians in their preaching of the faith. All who came to Paul found help and sympathy. Amongst others a runaway slave called Anasimus, who, having robbed his master Philemon, a Christian of Colosseum, had fled to Rome. This outcast, too, Paul won to Christ, and sent him back to ask pardon of his master. I beseech you for my son Anasimus, he wrote, whom I have begotten in my bonds and whom I send back to you. If you look on me as a brother, receive him as myself. The imprisonment dragged on for two long years, at the end of which Paul was set at liberty. He had scarcely left Rome when a terrible persecution broke out against the Christians. The idea had entered the wicked head of the Emperor to build himself a palace that should be more magnificent than anything the world had seen. He would show them what a Caesar could do. No expense was spared to carry his plan into execution, but the space at his disposal was not large enough to please his ambitious taste. The poorer quarters, chiefly inhabited by Jews and Christians, were in his way. Suddenly, one July day, a terrible fire broke out in the crowded part of the city that lay nearest to the new palace. Street after street was consumed, until the whole wally was like a blazing furnace. Scarcely had it died down when the flames burst forth again. Rumour whispered that the men sent by Nero to fight against the fire helped rather than hindered its spreading. It was said that the Emperor had been seen on the roof of his palace, singing of the fall of Troy, and exulting in the sight of the blazing city. He was already hated for his crimes. Rome had grown weary of the monster's tyranny. The Emperor realized that he had gone too far. His popularity was in danger. Someone must be found to bear the blame. An evil counselor suggested the Christians. They were an unpopular sect, disliked and despised by the Romans. Nero caught eagerly at the idea. The story was at once circulated that the Christians had set fire to the city. There were enemies of the state and of the people. This was the more readily believed, as the fire had broken out in their quarter, and men, women and children were seized and cast into prison. The evil mind of Nero then conceived a new idea. In putting the Christians to a fearful death, he might at the same time ensure his own popularity by providing an exciting entertainment for his subjects. The Romans loved the cruel sights of the arena, the combats, with wild beasts, the fights of the gladiators. He would give them the chance of indulging their taste to the utmost. A great festival was announced to take place in the circus, that the Emperor had built for himself in the gardens that lay at the foot of the Vatican hill, and the citizens of Rome were invited to attend. Posts had been set up at regular intervals, to which the Christians had been bound. The entertainment was now to begin. Panthers, lions and other wild beasts were let loose in the arena, and springing upon the martyrs, toward them limb from limb. A fresh batch of Christians were then brought out, wrapped in the skins of wild beasts. These were hunted to death by ferocious dogs, which had been made more savage by hunger. But the triumph of cruelty was reserved for the evening. Into the ground huge stakes had been driven, on which the Christians, wrapped in tunic soaked in pitch and sulfur, were impaled and set on fire. In the light of these fearful torches, a chariot race was held, in which the Emperor himself took part. He was in the highest spirits. Surely his lost popularity would now be regained, after such a day, as he had given to the people. But he had gone too far, even for the Romans. Murmurs of horror and pity broke out amongst the crowd. The chariot race was scarcely applauded. The citizens returned home ill-contained. Nero's plan had failed. In the dead of the night, men and women crept silently into the deserted gardens, to gather up the relics of their dead, those first fruits of the martyrs, who had given their lives for Christ. They were reverently buried in a secret place, and as the day dawned, the disciples crept back again to their hiding places. The persecutions continued to rage. Edicts were issued against the Christians all over the Roman Empire. Those who had not courage to face death fled into the neighboring countries. Dearly beloved, think not strange the burning heat which is to try you, as if some new thing happened to you, says Saint Peter in his epistle to the churches of Asia, Britain at Rome about this time. If you partake of the sufferings of Christ, rejoice. If you be reproached for Christ, you shall be blessed. So were the Christians strengthened for the coming storm, that they might glorify God in this name. The years had gone by, and Paul was in Rome again a prisoner. The brethren no longer thronged about him, for it was death for them to be recognized. The faithful honesty for us, who had followed him to Rome, had to make a long search before he discovered Paul's prison. I am even now ready to be sacrificed, he wrote to Timothy in Ephesus. And the time of my dissolution is at hand. I have fought a good fight. I have finished my course. I have kept the faith. Saint Peter had also been taken. According to tradition, the two apostles shared the same prison, and were destined to suffer martyrdom at the same time. Saint Peter being crucified within the city, and Saint Paul beheaded without the walls. When thou shalt be owed, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and lead thee whither thou wouldst not go. The master had said to Peter, signifying at the evangelist, by what death he should glorify God. To Peter also it had been revealed that the end was near. I think it meant to stir you up by putting you in remembrance, he writes, in his second epistle to the churches shortly before his death. Being assured that delaying away of this my tabernacle is at hand, according as our Lord Jesus Christ has signified to me, to him big glory, both now and to the day of eternity. That Saint Paul was twice brought up for trial we know, from the letter written from his prison in Rome to Timothy at Ephesus. On the first occasion he had been delivered out of the mouth of the lion, but he knew that the respite was short, and the second trial could have but one ending. There was in Rome neither justice nor mercy for a Christian. Make haste to come to me quickly, he writes. Only Luke is with me. The cloak that I left at Troas with Carpus, when thou comest, bring with thee and the books, especially the parchment, make haste to come before winter. Oibolus and Pudence and Linus and Claudius, and all the brethren salute thee, the Lord Jesus Christ be with thy spirit. They led him out along the Ostean way to a spot far from the crowded city. A little band of soldiers surrounded him, three of whom were to be won to Christ by the death of the martyr. His eyes looked out over the sunlit Campania, to the far horizon, and the blue Italian sky, but they saw none of these things. It was a fairer vision that strengthened him for the last fight, and beckoned him to a glorious eternity. For that which is at present momentary, and light of our tribulation, worketh for us above measure exceedingly an eternal weight of glory. While we look not at the things which are seen, but the things which are not seen, for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal. End of chapter 11 and end of the life of St. Paul by Francis Alice Forbes