company of several popish priests and gentlemen of that communion; when, acquitting himself with great learning and clearness of argument, one of the company told him, that they would give him an answer if they met him at Rome; which afterwards disappointed him of the satisfaction of seeing that city. For when he was in Italy, within a day's journey of it, and just taking coach to go thither, he saw two of those very gentlemen riding towards it; whereupon, not thinking it safe to proceed, he returned; and in 1646 arrived in England, where he was soon after informed that the parsonage - house belonging to the portion of Clare, and standing in the town of Tiverton (together with four or five other houses, which, as rector of that portion, he had a power of leasing), were all by the devastations of the war laid in rubbish, and the very materials of them carried away. He was also informed that the plague was then very hot in the town. Notwithstanding which, he resolved immediately to repair thither, as he accordingly did, and continued to discharge all the duties of his function, visiting the sick, relieving the poor, constantly preaching throughout the whole course of that distemper, first in the church, and afterwards (when the country people of his parish refused to come into the town) at a place in the fields, which was provided for that purpose. All this time God was pleased to preserve him amidst many thousands which perished, notwithstanding he was so frequent in his attendance on the sick and infected of the town. I do not find that he met with any disturbance from the godly during the rage of this sickness; but his troubles began soon after; and from thenceforward he continually suffered in the revenues of his living,-had one Mr. Stukely thrust upon him to supply half the cure (whom they compelled him to hire at the rate of 1001. a-year); and was frequently harassed before the triers and committees of those times, not only at Tiverton, but at Plymouth and London also (the trouble and expensiveness of which I need not observe to the reader); until at length he was formally dispossessed of both his rectories. I cannot exactly account for the order and event of his several appearances before those ravagers; but the single crime I find alleged against him was that unpardonable one of loyalty—a malignancy (as it was then esteemed, as well as commonly termed) much more fatal and destructive than the plague just now mentioned. Mr. Newte had one shrewd symptom of this malady upon him, which was his having persuaded a person to take what they then called the cavaliers' oath. Besides which, Mr. Stukely, his intruding partner, and soon after his successor, deposed before the committee, that he once met a gentleman who told him that he heard another gentleman say, that Mr. Newte, when he was in France, did very much promote the king's interest there. But the most material allegation against him was his having taken the cavaliers' oath himself; which was, I believe, a very great truth; but how well they might be able to prove it, is another question, and cannot be determined, without knowing what defence Mr. Newte made for himself. In the meanwhile this is sure, that the party took what care they could to prevent • Except that some of his factious parishioners passed the common cry of false doctrine against him.

him from making any. For either at this, or some other time of his appearance before the committee, a godly sister of the town locked the door upon her husband, and would not suffer him to go out when she understood that he was to be an evidence on Mr. Newte's behalf. And yet Mr. Newte had attended this very woman at a time when no one else would venture to do it, and when she stood most in need of such a charitable visit; being not only seized with the plague in the time of that common calamity, but under some disturbance of mind also. Upon these, and such like accusations, the committee of Devon (where sitting at that time I know not, but judge that it was at Tiverton) proceeded to sequester him, May the 31st, 1650; and August the 22d, following, ratified the sentence. After this, Mrs. Newte applied herself to the committee to get an order for the fifths, pursuant to the ordinance provided in that behalf. This order was accordingly granted her December the 4th, 1650; but no regard being had to it, upon her complaint the committee issued forth a second order, bearing date April 11, 1651; but not to much better effect than the former. And possibly that which prevented it, was Mr. Newte's refusing to give up the quiet possession of his livings to the usurper. For, in August 1651, he was again summoned before the committee at Plymouth; and, about this same time, I find also his case before the committee for plundered ministers at London, whither he had himself removed it by the interest and assistance of some friends. But all in vain; for in 1652 the sequestration was confirmed to Mr. Stukely, who had deposed the hearsay before mentioned. However, he had but very little enjoyment of it; for Mr. Newte did not presently quit it upon the sentence in 1650, and about 1653 got possession of it again. But the following year he was turned out a second time, and forced to give over all hopes of ever returning to it. In the mean time, as the committees performed their part, so the soldiers and the rabble were not, wanting to play theirs; and, by all the methods of violence and outrage which they could think of, endeavoured to worry him out of his possession, as long as he continued to defend it. To this end, they ordered sometimes ten, sometimes twelve, soldiers to quarter on him; and took care to pick out such among them as were the lewdest and most profligate villains, and the greatest enemies to the clergy, in the whole regiment. And when he was at length forced by these, and other methods, to abscond,* his wife was threatened by the commissioners in the town to be thrown out of doors, with her tender infants, into the highway, if they would not depart; and the mob of the town were encouraged to make alarms all night at the gates and doors of the house several times, to weary and frighten her out by their perpetual disturbances; all which, with many more indignities too tedious to relate, the poor gentlewoman bore for a long time with a great deal of patience and courage; but at last she was forced to remove, though even then she refused to deliver up the possession, and stoutly told them she knew no right they had; and if they entered there, it should be like rogues, as they were. However, when they at length broke in, notwithstanding this provocation, they shewed her, as • Or not to appear in prosecution of his cause.

it must be owned, such a piece of mercy as was not common in those times. For they only threw out of the barns into the court the corn, which, it seems, they had no occasion for till the next harvest, and some of it into the highway, in the midst of winter; whereas they used either to give it their horses, or secure it for the intruder. But, after all, it seems Mr. Newte was not wholly, but in part only, unworthy of the ministry; and therefore he was by the triers themselves removed to the lecture of Ottery St. Mary, in this county, worth about 207. a-year. By which, it may be guessed, that, in their account, the proportion of his merit to that of his successor was that of a fifteenth or a twentieth; for what he lost at Tiverton amounted to about 300 or 4001. a-year. But afterwards, not improving his one talent, it was adjudged that even that also should be taken from him. And accordingly he was esteemed unworthy to hold that small lecture,—was harassed and abused at Ottery, as well as at Tiverton,-forced with his family to lodge several nights in a wood; and at length dismissed from thence also. Whilst he was in possession of that office, the lecture-day once happened to be coincident with that of Christmas; and Mr. Newte, who was so bold as to preach on the subject of the nativity, in prosecution of his discourse, happened to mention that text of St. John, "Abraham rejoiced to see my day; he saw it, and was glad." Upon which a fellow in the congregation cried out aloud (as the fashion then was to disturb even a godly, as well as a malignant minister, if they did not like his doctrine), "What, doth he make Abraham a Christmas-man ?" And, in truth, it was such preaching as this which occasioned his removal from that place; for his learning and abilities were so well known, that several persons of note, and many others, came as far as from Exon, about twelve miles' distance, to hear him.

These were some of the troubles which this excellent person met with from the hands of the reformers; but all of them cannot be recounted at this distance of time. Only, in general, it is further to be added, that he was forced in the whole to remove his family no less than seven times; and, more particularly, had once been certainly murdered, had not the providence of God prevented him from going to Tiverton (the parsonage-house where he lived lying about a mile out of town) at that time to officiate as he had intended. For a fellow, who afterwards confessed it on his deathbed, had way-laid him, with a full resolution to have murdered him. Nor will it be thought that the villain would in the least have scrupled to perpetrate this wicked design, when it is known that he had murdered a man before in Tiverton. Though the reader may well be amazed to hear that he had purposed to bathe his hands in the blood of Mr. Newte also, when he is further informed, that the fellow, being tried and condemned for the murder which he had accomplished, was saved from the gallows by the interest of Mr. Newte and his eldest brother, who procured his pardon. How fit a match this fellow was for the woman before mentioned is easy to observe; but 'tis not so easy to parallel those circumstances of Mr. Newte's troubles from the hands of one whose life he had saved,

• Belonging to Major Fry.

and of another to save whom he had ventured his own life.

At length, about the year 1656, he found some respite; for Colonel Basset, of this county, having presented him to the living of Heanton, near Barnstaple, he continued there undisturbed until the happy restoration [although he constantly read the 20th chapter of Exodus, instead of the commandments, which it was popery then to recite in form, chose the lessons according to the directions of the Church, and threw the collects into one continued prayer, as Bishop Saunderson and some others then did].

As for his successors during the usurpation, the first of them, as I have before said, was Mr. Stukely. The precise time of his leaving it I do not find; but after him one Chishul usurped, or rather officiated for, both the portions; and in the beginning of 1654 Oliver settled them upon John Row, but, withal, ordered the profits of them to Chishul, during the time that he had served them. But before the expiration of that year, one Polwheel,* an Independent, got in full possession of them; and had the mortification to deliver them up again to Mr. Newte in 1660, having first let down the parsonage-house quite even to the highway. After the restoration, Mr. Newte became chaplain to the Lord De la Warr, had a tender made him first of the deanery of Salisbury, and afterwards of that of Exeter, both which he refused; and in 1666 was made chaplain in ordinary to his majesty, but got himself excused from waiting, partly on account of his great distance from court, partly because he was much afflicted with the gout, but chiefly, as is supposed, because of his great love to a retired life, which he enjoyed about eighteen years after the return of his majesty, and died August 10, 1678. He was a very learned man, particularly skilled in the eastern languages, as likewise in the French and Italian tongues ; a man of great piety and meekness, a constant preacher, and, in a word, a very accomplished gentleman, an excellent scholar, and a polite divine.

ABYSSINIA.-No. I.

Situation-Climate-Inhabitants.

THE Church Missionary Society having, within the last few years, established a mission in Abyssinia, the history and peculiar circumstances of the country have excited more attention than hitherto; and the reports of the missionaries cannot fail to increase the interest as to all that is connected with it.† The present, therefore, is the commencement of a series of papers designed to give a concise history of Abyssinia, its inhabitants, customs, and, more especially, its Church. The object of the series is to direct the minds of the readers to this important sphere of missionary labour, and to excite them to greater activity and energy in their attempts to spread far and wide the saving truths of the Gospel.

The kingdom of Abyssinia, Habbesh, or Ethiopia, the oldest monarchy in Africa, is a mountainous district, about the size of Great Britain. It is bounded

On Mr. Row's removal to be preacher at Westminster Abbey.

The reader will derive much interesting information as to the present religious state of Abyssinia from a "Journal of Three Years' Residence in Abyssinia, in furtherance of the objects of the Church Missionary Society, by the Rev. Samuel Gobat, one of the Society's Missionaries." London, Hatchards; Seeleys.

on the north by Sennaar, and the great woods of the Shangalla; on the south it is hemmed in by various tribes of the Galla nations, which almost bound it also on the west, and which, with the Red Sea, encircle it on the east. From Suez to Masuah, the ancient harbour of Abyssinia, and from thence to the Straits of Babelmandeb, a chain of mountains runs nearly parallel to the western coast of the Red Sea. These mountains, on the north of Abyssinia, pass through the country of the shepherds, and separate vast districts, which, though exactly in the same latitude, have a remarkable difference in the period of their rains. Both countries are deluged with rain for six months in the year; but the seasons on the two sides of these mountains are diametrically opposite to each other. On the east side, it rains during the six months which constitute our winter; on the opposite side, during our summer months. From the violence of these rains, and the fly that accompanies them, either region becomes for six months almost unfit for habitation; while, on the other side of the mountains, the country is teeming with the richest luxuriance. The inhabitants of these adjoining districts annually migrate from one side of the mountains to the other, and thus enjoy a perpetual summer--a wandering mode of life calculated to render them little suited for civilisation.

Abyssinia being mountainous, and lying in the middle of the torrid zone, and subject to heavy rains and fearful tempests, the climates of the high and low country materially differ. The high land, covered with long grass, and destitute of wood, is always healthy, dry, cool, and temperate, nay sometimes is very cold; while the low woody country, hazy and insufferably hot, suffers severely from a feverish season produced by the rains. Part of this latter, however, not being covered with wood, is generally healthy, and abounds in the choicest cattle; but where the waters stagnate, the marshes produce no pasture, and are extremely unwholesome. Such being the variety of the climate, the country is inhabited by people of very different complexion and characters. Royalty occupies the tops of the highest mountains; the mass of the people inhabit the sides of the hills, or the wide and healthy plains; while the Shangalla, the ancient Cushites, or Ethiopians, occupy the low, flat country, about forty miles broad.

The Shangalla are black and naked, and bitter enemies of the Abyssinian government. During the first half of the year they live under the shade of their own trees, bending the lower branches downwards, fixing them into the ground, and covering the outsides with the skins of animals. They hunt the elephant, hippopotamus, and other large animals, found either in the woods or pools; and hence, where the forest is the broadest and thickest, and the stagnant lakes the largest, the tribes of the Shangalla are most formidable. Where these large animals do not abound, they live on boars, lions, and even serpents; while whole tribes of them live on locusts, lizards, and ostriches. During the summer they subsist on the animals they catch; some of which they dry against the rainy season. Venison, and other flesh, is cut into strips or thongs, and dried in the sun until as tough as leather. Locusts are dried, and packed in baskets, against the winter. Before the rainy season commences, they retire to caves cut out in the rocks. As soon as the

• The authority on which the statements in this paper rest is chic fly that of the "Life of Bruce, the African Traveller," by Major F. B. Head. London, Murray. Forming No. XVII. of the Family Library."-An interesting volume.

+ The trailsalya, scarcely larger than a common bee-the sound of which is no sooner heard than the cattle run wildly about the plain, till they die from fear, pain, and fatigue. It is probably to this insect that Isaiah refers (vii. 18): "And it shall come to pass in that day that the Lord shali hiss for the fly that is in the uttermost part of the rivers of Egypt. . . . And they shall conie, and shall rest all of them in the desolate valley."

rains subside, the high grass becomes quickly parched, to which they set fire, the flames rapidly extending over the country.

The Shangalla have but one language. They are idolators, worshipping the moon and stars, trees and serpents, and are extremely superstitious. They have priests to defend them from evil spirits. They are archers from their infancy. To be able to bend the bow, made of wild fennel, vertically, is the admitted sign of manhood. They place on their bow a ring of the skin of every animal they kill; and when, covered with these rings, it becomes unfit for use, it is carefully preserved. The old Shangalla keeps always a number of these in his possession, and selects a favourite one to be buried with him, that at the resurrection, in which he believes, he may be able to defend himself from his enemies.

The Shangalla is exposed to the attacks of many enemies. He often meets with a cruel death, and is often carried into slavery. On the accession of every new king to the throne of Abyssinia, a great huntingmatch takes place, and premiums are awarded for each of the animals killed. As soon as this is at an end, there is a general hunt after the Shangalla, and the same reward offered for the murder of them as for the slaying of a wild beast." In order to hunt these people," says Major Head, "the Abyssinians, in overpowering numbers, and armed with every sort of weapon they can collect, enter the forest, and then, like hounds, they regularly draw the covers which contain their game. The men of the Shangalla being extremely active, intelligent, and accustomed to the intricacies of their native woods, could easily avoid their pursuers; but each man, tethered by his affections to his own little family, can only retreat at the rate of the weakest, and they are consequently very soon overtaken by the Abyssinians. In the hot, gloomy, unhealthy recesses of the forest, far beyond the regions of civilisation, out of the hearing of mercy, out of the sight of every nation that would rush forward to prevent such conduct, the sport or slaughter begins. The grown-up men are all killed, and are then mutilated, parts of their bodies being always carried away as trophies; several of the old mothers are also killed, while others, frantic with fear and despair, kill themselves. The boys and girls of a more tender age are then carried off in brutal triumph: the former are afterwards to be found as servants in all the great houses in Abyssinia; the latter, the weaker sex, are dragged into more remote and distant countries, to be sold as attendants to the Turks, who profess to admire the Ethiopians in summer, because, like toads, they have a cold skin."

The Galla are a numerous race of shepherds, inhabiting the south, west, and also parts of the interior of Abyssinia. Some have supposed them to be descendants of the Jews transported into Assyria by Shalmanezer, into Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar, or banished by Titus and Vespasian into Ethiopia. Bruce is inclined to think their ancestors fled before Joshua after the burning of Jericho. Their general complexion is brown; though some, who live in the valleys, are quite black, and have long black hair. They are divided into tribes, for every seven of which a chief is elected. There is a distinction of ranks among them, those whose ancestors have distinguished themselves in war forming a kind of aristocracy; and from this their chiefs are chosen. The Galla are almost all mounted on horses, which they manage with the greatest skill; and in passing rivers they dismount, and grasping the tails of their horses are drawn across. Their arms consist of a shield of bull's hide, and a long lance. The Abyssinians dread their attacks; they utter in battle a fearful howl, which terrifies the horses of their adversaries; and when they march against an enemy, they carry with them small bales of beans mixed with butter, one of which is said to be sufficient for a man's

with grease; which, being poured in quantities upon their heads, melts and drops upon their shoulders, over which a piece of goat's skin is thrown. They wind the entrails of oxen round them as ornaments. They eat raw meat. The Galla of the south are generally Mahometans; those of the east and west are pagans, worshipping the moon, of which Bruce was a witness. The wansey-tree, under which their chiefs are crowned, is also worshipped. They believe in the resurrection of the body. They admit of a plurality of wives; and when the father of a family becomes old, he is compelled to surrender his effects to his eldest son, who is obliged to support him; and should this son die, the youngest son of the family is expected to marry the widow.

Such are two of the savage people found in Abyssinia and its neighbourhood. Ignorant of the one true God, and of the Gospel of his Son, can it be wondered at, that in their characters they should often be little removed from the beasts that perish? And how melancholy is the reflection, that such is the condition, not merely of Abyssinian tribes, but of millions of the human race; and that elsewhere even more heart-rending pictures of idolatry and savage life present themselves! Wherever God is unknown, as revealed in his holy word, man is degraded. Christianity is the grand, the only effectual, instrument for the amelioration and civilisation of the human race. Let the Gospel be proclaimed, in all its fulness and freeness, to those who are now the deluded captives of the prince of darkness; let men devoted to the furtherance of the glory of God, and the welfare of their fellow-creatures, be sent forth to instruct the heathen; let prayer be offered for their success,-and then there is the sure warrant to believe that their labour shall not be in vain; that amidst the spiritual deserts the streams of salvation shall burst forth; and that myriads may yet refresh themselves at cisterns of living water, and in the fountain opened for sin and for uncleanness wash all their guilt away. T.

PASSING THOUGHTS.

BY CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH. No. XXI.-The Burden. WALKING along a hilly road the other day, I observed a young girl, apparently about sixteen, carrying a large bucket of grains, as I supposed, from a brewery not far behind us, to replenish the trough of her pig, or to fatten her fowls. There was something painful in the continued effort with which the poor girl ascended the path. The right arm was evidently on the full stretch downwards, while the left was no less forcibly extended horizontally, to assist, with body and neck inclined in the same direction, in affording a counterpoise to the heavy weight that dragged her earthward. After a while, she rested for breath, placing her bucket on the ground, and her hands to her hips, as if to relieve the overstrained muscles so severely taxed; then, at the foot of a higher ascent, she resumed the load, and proceeded more painfully than before.

At this juncture a girl, considerably less than herself, who was loitering near a gate on the road, accosted her, and after a short parley, going round to the other side of the bucket, she also took the handle; and thus sharing the burden between them, they trotted along, with countenances and manner 80 changed, that I could not but mark them: the expression of fatigue and vexation on the aspect of the burdened traveller gave place to one of sprightly

and lifeless, brightened with animation as they chatted away. The weary step of the one, and the lazy lounge of the other, were alike succeeded by a light and lively pace; and I hardly know which was most pleasant to witness, the relaxed outline of the overworked arm, or the vigorous movement of that which had just been folded in useless inactivity. My pace being slow, they soon outstripped me, and, turning off into a lane, were presently out of sight. Not so the lesson conveyed : it was one that we all require to learn anew very frequently, for it illustrated a text of daily and almost hourly applicability in every station of life: "Bear ye one another's burdens, and so fulfil the law of Christ."

Revolving in my mind this little incident, I traced in the unoccupied girl a resemblance to many wellmeaning Christians, who, relieved at the moment from any heavy pressure on their own strength or fortitude, stand by, as it were, to remark how their fellows proceed under some present weight; but it must be confessed that the contemplation is not always followed up by an extension of prompt assistance. The duty of burden-bearing is admitted by all who acknowledge the authority of the Gospel, but it is too much confined to what the Lord sees good to lay upon us-too little considered with a reference to the precious text above quoted. Few will refuse to lend the aid that is asked of them; but they are not very many who will step out of their own path to proffer help when it is not demanded of them, although that proffer is, in a multitude of cases, the principal part of the benefit conferred. I saw plainly that a very small portion of the actual weight of the bucket was transferred to the smaller girl; but she put her hand to it with hearty good will, and the companionship, the practical sympathy thus afforded, administered such a cordial to the other, that I doubt not it lightened the load in a far greater degree than if twothirds of the contents of the bucket had been subtracted, and the remainder left for her to bear alone.

Nothing would so sweeten the intercourse of God's people on earth as a diligent cultivation of this principle and habit. A thousand occasions for bearing a brother's burden pass by unimproved, because unmarked, by us; while he, perhaps, marks them, and is pained by the omission. To comfort the feebleminded, to lift up the hands that hang down, to bear the infirmities of the weak, is an office that the meanest, the most inexperienced, may easily perform, and in so doing confer a lasting benefit on themselves. There are some professors who appear as a sort of gladiators on the scene, ambitious to exhibit their own powers of endurance, and, still more, of infliction, and rather to take advantage of a brother's comparative feebleness for that purpose, than to impart to him of the gift that they have received. Such, while wounding their weaker brethren, break the law of Christ, and inflict a blow on his cause. The superiority, whether openly vaunted of or silently displayed, becomes a reproach, and often produces in the mind of the harassed individual a secret murmuring against the will of Him, who, in severally dividing his gifts according to that mysterious will, leaves one in poverty, that another may minister to him out of his

abundance. Our proud hearts generally contrive to discover something in ourselves whereof to glory; and in that one thing we should ever be most watchful that we offend not. A man of strong reasoning powers will be tempted to seek victory in an argument with one not so well exercised in that line-nay, to court an argument, in the anticipation of triumph, perhaps at the sacrifice of that unity of spirit which he statedly prays for. One whose views of doctrinal truth are deep and clear, will frequently be beguiled into increasing the perplexity of a hesitating mind, and quenching the light that does but glimmer in comparison with the clear beams of his own, in order to display the latter in all their brightness; forgetting, perhaps, that there may be much light with little heat, or none; and that the clearest head may be joined to a heart in the Laodicean state, which the Lord accepts not. A fluent talker on spiritual matters will exceedingly dishearten one who may secretly, though needlessly, fear that his own lack of words preceeds from lack of love; and a disposition naturally phlegmatic, assuming the appearance of being fixed on the sure foundation, beyond the power of passing events to affect his settled repose of mind, will break the bruised reed that quivers in every breeze. In any of these cases, or in the numerous varieties that belong

THE PHILIPPIAN JAILOR: A Sermon,

BY THE RIGHT REV. JOHN BIRD SUMNER, D.D. Lord Bishop of Chester.

ACTS, xvi. 33, 34.

"And he took them the same hour of the night, and washed their stripes; and was baptised, he and all his straightway. And when he had brought them into his house, he set meat before them, and rejoiced, believing in God with all his house."

THEY to whom this kindness was shewn were the apostles Paul and Silas, who on the preceding day had been cast into prison. And he who shewed this kindness was the jailor under whose custody they were. The last thing stated of him was, that, having received a charge to keep his prisoners safely, he "thrust them into the inner prison, and made their feet fast in the stocks;" now we find him treating them with all tenderness, washing their stripes, bringing them into his own house, and setting meat before them.

We will refer to the history which led to this extraordinary change. "And at mid

Christ fulfilled?

Apart from these, there is the selfishness that, without aspiring to shine at any one's expense, is too much wrapped in its own concerns or enjoyments to

take thought, practically, for those of another. They

would help if called on—at least so they say, or think; but as to going out of their way, they see no occasion for that. And as those who most need sympathy are generally the slowest at asking it, this class rarely find eccasion to exert themselves. The Christian's duty is to tread in the steps of his Master, who was found of them that sought him not; and to give unasked that which, alike unasked and undeserved by him, he has

received of God. How far the outstretched hand of offered assistance, the tone of sympathy, and the step of kind companionship, will go in lightening the heaviest burdens, and cheering the most care-worn mind, they alone know who have both needed and found such fellow-helpers on a toilsome road; and, in like manner, the richness of the recompense internally enjoyed by the conscious succourer, is only to be ascertained by experiment. There is not in the whole Bible a precept, the fulfilment of which does not bring gladness to the heart that obeys it; and perhaps among them all, as there is none more imitative of the Lord Jesus in its object, so there is none that in its application more directly insures the twofold blessing, than that which says, "Bear ye one another's burdens."

:

unto God: and the prisoners heard them. And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one's bands were loosed. And the keeper of the prison awaking out of his sleep, and seeing the prison-doors open, he drew out his sword, and would have killed himself, supposing that the prisoners had been fled. But Paul cried with a loud voice, saying, Do thyself no harm: for we are all here. Then he called for a light, and sprang in, and came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, and brought them out, and said, Sirs, what must I do to be saved ?”

We see now why this earthquake had been ordered. Not chiefly on account of the apostles. Many ways were open to Almighty God by which he might have delivered them. But he had mercy in store for this man. The earthquake which shook the prisonwalls shook also that which it is often more hard to move-the stony heart. The bands were loosed which had held the prisoners' limbs; those stronger bands were also loosed in which Satan had held their keeper's heart. He had seen, by an indisputable proof, that some mighty power attended the apostles; that to persecute them was to oppose the power which protected them; to ill treat them was to fight against God. So he came trembling, and fell down before Paul and Silas, saying, Sirs, what must I do to be saved?" How can I escape the vengeance of this power which defends you, and which by severely handling you I have provoked?

We see here the different dealings of God