sacredness of religious elevation.  Senators and generals, petty kings and provincial governors, were all obliged to bow obsequiously to his mandates.  In this vast metropolis might be found natives of almost every clime; some engaged in its trade; some who had travelled to it from distant countries to solicit the imperial favour; some, like Paul, conveyed to it as prisoners; some stimulated to visit it by curiosity; and some attracted to it by the vague hope of bettering their condition.  The city of the Caesars might well be described as “sitting upon many waters;” [145:4] for, though fourteen or fifteen miles from the mouth of the Tiber, the mistress of the world was placed on a peninsula stretching out into the middle of a great inland sea over which she reigned without a rival.  In the summer months almost every port of every country along the shores of the Mediterranean sent forth vessels freighted with cargoes for the merchants of Rome. [146:1] The fleet from Alexandria laden with wheat for the supply of the city was treated with peculiar honour; for its ships alone were permitted to hoist their topsails as they approached the shore; a deputation of senators awaited its arrival; and, as soon as it appeared, the whole surrounding population streamed to the pier, and observed the day as a season of general jubilee.  But an endless supply of other articles in which the poor were less interested found their way to Rome.  The mines of Spain furnished the great capital with gold and silver, whilst its sheep yielded wool of superior excellence; and, in those times of Roman conquest, slaves were often transported from the shores of Britain.  The horses and chariots and fine linen of Egypt, the gums and spices and silk and ivory and pearls of India, the Chian and the Lesbian wines, and the beautiful marble of Greece and Asia Minor, all met with purchasers in the mighty metropolis. [146:2] As John surveyed in vision the fall of Rome, and as he thought of the almost countless commodities which ministered to her insatiable luxury, well might he represent the world’s traffic as destroyed by the catastrophe; and well might he speak of the merchants of the earth as weeping and mourning over her, because “no man buyeth their merchandise any more.” [146:3]

Paul had often desired to prosecute his ministry in the imperial city; for he knew that if Christianity could obtain a firm footing in that great centre of civilisation and of power, its influence would soon be transmitted to the ends of the earth:  but he now appeared there under circumstances equally painful and discouraging.  And yet even in this embarrassing position he was not overwhelmed with despondency.  At Puteoli he “found brethren,” [146:4] and through the indulgence of Julius, the centurion to whose care he was committed, he was courteously allowed to spend a week [147:1] with the little Church of which they were members.  He now set out on his way to the metropolis; but the intelligence of