It would have made a precious chapter in the Acts of the Apostles had the author of that book been able to give his readers some of Paul’s musings as he crossed the Troad on foot that day.  But in the absence of Paul’s musings we have here the musings of a man whom Paul would not have shaken off had he foregathered with him on that lonely road.  For Standfast was in a deep and serious muse mile after mile, when, who should step into the middle of his path right before him but Madam Bubble with her body and her purse and her bed?  Now, had this hungry howlet of a pilgrim been at that moment in any other but a musing mood of mind, he had to a certainty sold himself, soul and body, Celestial City and all, to that impudent slut.  But, as He would have it who overrules Madam Bubble’s descents, and all things, Standfast was at that moment in one of his most musing moods, and all her smiles and all her offers fell flat and poor upon him.  Cultivate Standfast’s mood of mind, my brethren.  Walk a good deal alone.  Strike across country from time to time alone and have good long walks and talks with yourself.  And when you know that you are passing places of temptation see that your thoughts, and even your imaginations, are well occupied with solemn considerations about the certain issue of such and such temptations; and then, to you, as to Standfast,

   “The arrow seen beforehand slacks its flight.”

2.  But, musing alone, the arrow seen beforehand, and all, Standfast would have been a lost man on that lonely road that day had he not instantly betaken himself to his knees.  And it was while Standfast was still on his knees that the ascending pilgrims heard that concerned and solemn noise a little ahead of them.  Did you ever suddenly come across a man on his knees?  Did you ever surprise a man at prayer as Greatheart and his companions surprised Standfast?  I do not ask, Did you ever enter a room and find a family around their morning or evening altar?  We have all done that.  And it left its own impression upon us.  But did you ever spring a surprise upon a man on his knees alone and in broad daylight?  I did the other day.  It was between eleven and twelve o’clock in the forenoon when I asked a clerk if his master was in.  Yes, he said, and opened his master’s door.  When, before I was aware, I had almost fallen over a man on his knees and with his face in his hands.  “I pray thee,” said Valiant-for-truth, “tell us what it was that drew thee to thy knees even now.  Was it that some special mercy laid its obligations on thee, or how?” I did not say that exactly to my kneeling friend, though it was on the point of my tongue to say it.  My dear friend, I knew, had his own difficulties, though he was not exactly as poor as a howlet.  And it might have been about some of his investments that had gone out of joint that he went that forenoon to Him who had said that He would help.  Or, like the author of the Christian Perfection and The