The Life and Epistles of Paul

Before entering on the narrative of that voyage (f2187) which brought the Apostle Paul, through manifold and imminent dangers, from Caesarea to Rome , it will be convenient to make a few introductory remarks concerning the ships and navigation of the ancients. By fixing clearly in the mind some of the principal facts relating to the form and structure of Greek and Roman vessels, the manner in which these vessels were worked, the prevalent lines of traffic in the Mediterranean, and the opportunities afforded to travelers of reaching their destination by sea, — we shall be better able to follow this voyage without distractions or explanations, and with a clearer perception of each event as it occurred.

With regard to the vessels and seamanship of the Greeks and Romans, many popular mistakes have prevailed, to which it is hardly necessary to allude, after the full illustration which the subject has now received. (f2188) We must not entertain the notion that all the commerce of the ancients was conducted merely by means of small craft, which proceeded timidly in the day-time, and only in the summer season, along the coast from harbor to harbor, — and which were manned by mariners almost ignorant of the use of sails, and always trembling at the prospect of a storm. We cannot, indeed, assert that the arts either of ship-building or navigation were matured in the Mediterranean so early as the first century of the Christian era. The Greeks and Romans were ignorant of the use of the compass: (f2189) the instruments with which they took observations must have been rude compared with our modern quadrants and sextants; (f2190) and we have no reason to believe that their vessels were provided with nautical charts; (f2191) and thus, when "neither sun nor stars appeared," and the sky gave indications of danger, they hesitated to try the open sea. (See Acts 27:9- 12, also Acts 28:11.) But the ancient sailor was well skilled in the changeable weather of the Levant, and his very ignorance of the aids of modern science made him the more observant of external phenomena, and more familiar with his own coasts. (f2192) He was not less prompt and practical than a modern seaman in the handling of his ship, when overtaken by stormy weather on a dangerous coast.

The ship of the Greek and Roman mariner was comparatively rude, both in its build and its rig. The hull was not laid down with the fine lines with which we are so familiar in the competing vessels of England and America, (f2193) and the arrangement of the sails exhibited little of that complicated distribution yet effective combination of mechanical forces which we admire in the East-Indiaman or modern frigate. With the war-ships (f2194) of the ancients we need not here occupy ourselves or the reader: but two peculiarities in the structure of Greek and Roman merchantmen must be carefully noticed; for both of them are much concerned in the seamanship described in the narrative before us.

The ships of the Greeks and Romans, like those of the early Northmen, (f2195) were not steered by means of a single rudder, but by two paddle-rudders, one on each quarter. Hence "rudders" are mentioned in the plural (f2196) by St. Luke (Acts 27:40) as by Heathen writers; and the fact is made still more palpable by the representations of art, as in the coins of Imperial Rome or the tapestry of Bayeux: nor does the hinged-rudder appear on any of the remains of antiquity till a late period in the Middle Ages. (f2197)

And as this mode of steering is common to the two sources, from which we must trace our present art of ship-building, so also is the same mode of rigging characteristic of the ships both of the North Sea and the Mediterranean. (f2198) We find in these ancient ships one large mast, with strong ropes rove through a block at the mast-head, and one large sail, fastened to an enormous yard. (f2199) We shall see the importance of attending to this arrangement when we enter upon the incidents of St. Paul’s voyage (Acts 27:17, 19). One consequence was, that instead of the strain being distributed over the hull, as in a modern ship, it was concentrated upon a smaller portion of it: and thus in ancient times there must have been a greater tendency to leakage than at present; (f2200) and we have the testimony of ancient writers to the fact, that a vast proportion of the vessels lost were by foundering. Thus Virgil, (f2201) whose descriptions of everything which relates to the sea are peculiarly exact, speaks of the ships in the fleet of AEneas as lost in various ways, some on rocks, and some on quicksands, but "all with fastenings loosened;" and Josephus relates that the ship from which he so narrowly escaped foundered (f2202) in "Adria," and that he and his companions saved themselves by swimming (f2203) through the night, — an escape which found its parallel in the experience of the Apostle, who in one of those shipwrecks, of which no particular narration has been given to us, was "a night and a day in the deep" (2Corinthians 11:25). The same danger was apprehended in the ship of Jonah, from which "they cast forth the wares that were in the ship into the sea to lighten it" (Jonah 1:5); as well as in the ship of St. Paul, from which, after having "lightened" it the first day, they "cast out the tackling" on the second day, and finally "threw out the cargo of wheat into the sea" (Acts 27:18, 19, 38).

This leads us to notice what may be called a third peculiarity of the appointments of ancient ships, as compared with those of modern times. In consequence of the extreme danger to which they were exposed from leaking, it was customary to take to sea, as part of their ordinary gear, "undergirders" (upozwmata), which were simply ropes for passing round the hull of the ship, and thus preventing the planks from starting. (f2204) One of the most remarkable proofs of the truth of this statement is to be found in the inscribed marbles dug up within the last twenty years at the Piraeus, which give us an inventory of the Attic fleet in its flourishing period; (f2205) as one of the most remarkable accounts of the application of these artificial "helps" (Acts 27:17) in a storm is to be found in the narrative before us.

If these differences between ancient ships and our own are borne in mind, the problems of early seamanship in the Mediterranean are nearly reduced to those with which the modern navigator has to deal in the same seas. The practical questions which remain to be asked are these, What were the dimensions of ancient ships? how near the wind could they sail? and, with a fair wind, at what rate?

As regards the first of these questions, there seems no reason why we should suppose the old trading-vessels of the Mediterranean to be much smaller than our own. We may rest this conclusion both on the character of the cargoes with which they were freighted, (f2206) and on the number of persons we know them to have sometimes conveyed. Though the great ship of Ptolemy Philadelphus (f2207) may justly be regarded as built for ostentation rather than for use, the Alexandrian vessel which forms the subject of one of Lucian’s dialogues, (f2208) and is described as driven by stress of weather into the Piraeus, furnishes us with satisfactory data for the calculation of the tonnage of ancient ships. Two hundred and seventy-six souls (f2209) were on board the ship in which St. Paul was wrecked (Acts 27:37), and the "Castor and Pollux" conveyed them, in addition to her own crew, from Malta to Puteoli (Acts 28:11); while Josephus informs us (f2210) that there were six hundred on board the ship from which he, with about eighty others, escaped. Such considerations lead us to suppose that the burden of many ancient merchantmen may have been from five hundred to a thousand tons.

A second question, of greater consequence in reference to the present subject, relates to the angle which the course of an ancient ship could be made to assume with the direction of the wind, or, to use the language (f2211) of English sailors (who divide the compass into thirty-two points), within how many points of the wind she would sail. That ancient vessels could not work to windward is one of the popular mistakes (f2212) which need not he refuted. They doubtless took advantage of the Etesian winds, (f2213) just as the traders in the Eastern Archipelago sail with the monsoons: but those who were accustomed to a seafaring life could not avoid discovering that a ship’s course can be made to assume a less angle than a right angle with the direction of the wind, or, in other words, that she can be made to sail within less than eight points of the wind: (f2214) and Pliny distinctly says, that it is possible for a ship to sail on contrary tacks. (f2215) The limits of this possibility depend upon the character of the vessel and the violence of the gale. We shall find, below, that the vessel in which St. Paul was wrecked "could not look at the wind," — for so the Greek word (Acts 27:15) may be literally translated in the language of English sailors, — though with a less violent gale an English ship, well managed, could easily have kept her course. A modern merchantman, in moderate weather, can sail within six points of the wind. In an ancient vessel the yard could not be braced so sharp, and the hull was more clumsy; and it would not be safe to say that (f2216) she could sail nearer the wind than within seven points.

To turn now to the third question, the rate of sailing, — the very nature of the rig, which was less adapted than our own for working to windward, was peculiarly favorable to a quick run before the wind. In the China seas, during the monsoons, junks have been seen from the deck of a British vessel behind in the horizon in the morning, and before in the horizon in the evening. (f2217) Thus we read of passages accomplished of old in the Mediterranean, which would do credit to a well-appointed modern ship. Pliny, who was himself a seaman, and in command of a fleet at the time of his death, might furnish us with several instances. We might quote the story of the fresh fig, which Cato produced in the senate at Rome, when he urged his countrymen to undertake the third Punic war, by impressing on them the imminent nearness of their enemy. "This fruit," he says, "was gathered fresh at Carthage three days ago." (f2218) Other voyages, which he adduces, are such as these, — seven days from Cadiz to Ostia, — seven days from the straits of Messina to Alexandria, — nine days from Puteoli to Alexandria. These instances are quite in harmony with what we read in other authors. Thus Rhodes and Cape Salmone, at the eastern extremity of Crete, are reckoned by Diodorus and Strabo as four days from Alexandria: Plutarch tells us of a voyage within the day from Brundusium to Corcyra: Procopius describes Belisarius as sailing on one day with his fleet from Malta, and landing on the next day some leagues to the south of Carthage. (f2219) A thousand stades (or between 100 and 150 miles) is reckoned by the geographers a common distance to accomplish in the twenty-four hours. (f2220) And the conclusion to which we are brought is, that with a fair wind an ancient merchantman would easily sail at the rate of seven knots an hour, — a conclusion in complete harmony both with what we have observed in a former voyage of St. Paul (Ch. 20.), and with what will demand our attention at the close of that voyage which brought him at length from Malta by Rhegium to Puteoli (Acts 28:13).

The remarks which have been made will convey to the reader a sufficient notion of the ships and navigation of the ancients. If to the above-mentioned peculiarities of build and rig we add the eye painted at the prow, the conventional ornaments at stem and stern, which are familiar to us in remaining works of art, (f2221) and the characteristic figures of Heathen divinities, (f2222) we shall gain a sufficient idea of an ancient merchantman. And a glance at the chart of the Mediterranean will enable us to realize in our imagination the nature of the voyages that were most frequent in the ancient world. With the same view of elucidating the details of our subject beforehand, we may now devote a short space to the prevalent lines of traffic, and to the opportunities of travelers by sea, in the first century of the Christian era.

Though the Romans had no natural love for the sea, and though a commercial life was never regarded by them as an honorable occupation, and thus both experience of practical seamanship and the business of the carrying-trade remained in a great measure with the Greeks, yet a vast development had been given to commerce by the consolidation of the Roman Empire. Piracy had been effectually put down before the close of the Republic. (f2223) The annexation of Egypt drew towards Italy the rich trade of the Indian seas. After the effectual reduction of Gaul and Spain, Roman soldiers and Roman slave-dealers (f2224) invaded the shores of Britain. The trade of all the countries which surrounded the Mediterranean began to flow towards Rome. The great city herself was passive, for she had nothing to export. But the cravings of her luxury, and the necessities of her vast population, drew to one center the converging lines of a busy traffic from a wide extent of provinces. To leave out of view what hardly concerns us here, the commerce by land from the North, (f2225) some of the principal directions of trade by sea may be briefly enumerated as follows. The harbors of Ostia and Puteoli were constantly full of ships from the West, which had brought wool and other articles from Cadiz: (f2226) a circumstance which possesses some interest for us here, as illustrating the mode in which St. Paul might hope to accomplish his voyage to Spain (Romans 15:24). On the South was Sicily, often called the Store-house of Italy, — and Africa, which sent furniture-woods to Rome, and heavy cargoes of marble and granite. On the East, Asia Minor was the intermediate space through which the caravan-trade (f2227) passed, conveying silks and spices from beyond the Euphrates to the markets and wharves of Ephesus. We might extend this enumeration by alluding to the fisheries of the Black Sea, and the wine-trade of the Archipelago. But enough has been said to give some notion of the commercial activity of which Italy was the center: and our particular attention here is required only to one branch of trade, one line of constant traffic across the waters of the Mediterranean to Rome.

Alexandria has been mentioned already as a city, which, next after Athens, exerted the strongest intellectual influence over the age in which St. Paul’s appointed work was done; and we have had occasion to notice some indirect connection between this city and the Apostle’s own labors. (f2228) But it was eminent commercially not less than intellectually. The prophetic views of Alexander were at that time receiving an ampler fullfillment than at any former period. The trade with the Indian seas, which had been encouraged under the Ptolemies, received a vast impulse in the reign of Augustus: and under the reigns of his successors, the valley of the Nile was the channel of an active transit trade in spices, dyes, jewels, and perfumes, which were brought by Arabian mariners from the far East, and poured into the markets of Italy. (f2229) But Egypt was not only the medium of transit trade. She had her own manufactures of linen, paper, and glass, which she exported in large quantities. And one natural product of her soil has been a staple commodity from the time of Pharaoh to our own. "We have only to think of the fertilizing inundations of the Nile, on the one hand, and, on the other, of the multitudes composing the free and slave population of Italy, in order to comprehend the activity and importance of the Alexandrian corn-trade. At a later period the Emperor Commodus established a company of merchants to convey the supplies from Egypt to Rome; and the commendations which he gave himself for this forethought may still be read in the inscription round the ships represented on his coins. (f2230) The harbor to which the Egyptian corn-vessels were usually bound was Puteoli. At the close of this chapter we shall refer to some passages which give an animated picture of the arrival of these ships. Meanwhile, it is well to have called attention to this line of traffic between Alexandria and Puteoli; for in so doing we have described the means which Divine Providence employed for bringing the Apostle to Rome.

The transition is easy from the commerce of the Mediterranean to the progress of travelers from point to point in that sea. If to this enumeration of the main lines of traffic by sea we add all the ramifications of the coasting-trade which depended on them, we have before us a full view of the opportunities which travelers possessed of accomplishing their voyages. Just in this way we have lately seen St. Paul completing the journey, on which his mind was set, from Philippi, by Miletus and Patara, to Caesarea (Ch. 20.). We read of no periodical packets for the conveyance of passengers sailing between the great towns of the Mediterranean. Emperors themselves were usually compelled to take advantage of the same opportunities to which Jewish pilgrims and Christian Apostles were limited. When Vespasian went to Rome, leaving Titus to prosecute the siege of Jerusalem, "he went on board a merchant-ship, and sailed from Alexandria to Rhodes," and thence pursued his way through Greece to the Adriatic, and finally went to Rome through Italy by land. (f2231) And when the Jewish war was ended, and when, suspicions having arisen concerning the allegiance of Titus to Vespasian, the son was anxious "to rejoin his father," he also left Alexandria (f2232) in a "merchant-ship," and "hastened to Italy," touching at the very places at which St. Paul touched, first at Rhegium (Acts 28:13), and then at Puteoli (ib.).

If such was the mode in which even royal personages traveled from the provinces to the metropolis, we must of course conclude that those who traveled on the business of the state must often have been content to avail themselves of similar opportunities. The sending of state prisoners to Rome from various parts of the Empire was an event of frequent occurrence. Thus we are told by Josephus, (f2233) that Felix, "for some slight offence, bound and sent to Rome several priests of his acquaintance, honorable and good men, to answer for themselves to Caesar." Such groups must often have left Caesarea and the other Eastern ports, in merchant-vessels bound for the West; and such was the departure of St. Paul, when the time at length came for that eventful journey, which had been so long and earnestly cherished in his own wishes; ( Romans 15:23.) so emphatically foretold by divine revelation; (Acts 19:21; 23:11. See Acts 27:24.) and which was destined to involve such great consequences to the whole future of Christianity.

The vessel in which he sailed, with certain other state prisoners, was "a ship of Adramyttium" apparently engaged in the coasting-trade, (f2234) and at that time (probably the end of summer or the beginning of autumn) (f2235) bound on her homeward voyage. Whatever might be the harbors at which she intended to touch, her course lay along the coast of the province of Asia. (f2236) Adramyttium was itself a seaport in Mysia, which (as we have seen) was a subdivision of that province: and we have already described it as situated in the deep gulf which recedes beyond the base of Mount Ida, over against the island of Lesbos, and as connected by good roads with Pergamus and Troas on the coast, and the various marts in the interior of the peninsula. (f2237) Since St. Paul never reached the place, no description of it is required. (f2238) It is only needful to observe that when the vessel reached the coast of "Asia," the travelers would be brought some considerable distance on their way to Rome; and there would be a good prospect of finding some other westward-bound vessel, in which they might complete their voyage, — more especially since the Alexandrian corn-ships (as we shall see) often touched at the harbors in that neighborhood.

St. Paul’s two companions — besides the soldiers, with Julius their commanding officer, the sailors, the other prisoners, and such occasional passengers as may have taken advantage of this opportunity of leaving Caesarea — were two Christians already familiar to us, Luke the Evangelist, whose name, like that of Timothy, is almost inseparable from the Apostle, and whom we may conclude to have been with him since his arrival in Jerusalem, (f2239) — and "Aristarchus the Macedonian, of Thessalonica," whose native country and native city have been separately mentioned before (Acts 19:29, 20:4), and who seems, from the manner in which he is spoken of in the Epistles written from Rome (Philemon 1:24, Colossians 4:10), to have been, like St. Paul himself, a prisoner in the cause of the Gospel.

On the day after sailing from Caesarea the vessel put into Sidon (v. 3). This may be readily accounted for, by supposing that she touched there for the purposes of trade, or to land some passengers. Or another hypothesis is equally allowable. Westerly and north-westerly winds prevail in the Levant at the end of summer and the beginning of autumn; (f2240) and we find that it did actually blow from these quarters soon afterwards, in the course of St. Paul’s voyage. Such a wind would be sufficiently fair for a passage to Sidon: and the seamen might proceed to that port in the hope of the weather becoming more favorable, and be detained there by the wind continuing in the same quarter. (f2241) The passage from Caesarea to Sidon is sixty-seven miles, a distance easily accomplished, under favorable circumstances, in less than twenty-four hours. In the course of the night they would pass by Ptolemais and Tyre, where St. Paul had visited the Christians two years before. (f2242) Sidon is the last city on the Phoenician shore in which the Apostle’s presence can be traced. It is a city associated, from the earliest times, with patriarchal and Jewish history. The limit of "the border of the Canaanites" in the description of the peopling of the earth after the Flood (Genesis 10:19), — "the haven of the sea, the haven of ships," in the dim vision of the dying Patriarch (Genesis 49:13), — the "great Sidon" of the wars of Joshua (Joshua 11:8), — the city that never was conquered by the Israelites (Judges 1:31), — the home of the merchants that "passed over the sea" (Isaiah 23.), — its history was linked with all the annals of the Hebrew race. Nor is it less familiarly known in the records of Heathen antiquity. Its name is celebrated both in the Iliad and the Odyssey, and Herodotus says that its sailors were the most expert of all the Phoenicians. Its strong and massive fortifications were pulled down, when this coast fell under the sway of the Persians; but its harbor remained uninjured till a far later period.

The Prince of the Druses, with whose strange and brilliant career its more recent history is most closely connected, threw masses of stone and earth into the port, in order to protect himself from the Turks: (f2243) — and houses are now standing on the spot where the ships of King Louis anchored in the last Crusade, (f2244) and which was crowded with merchandise in that age, when the geographer of the Roman Empire spoke of Sidon as the best harbor of Phoenicia. (f2245)

Nor is the history of Sidon without a close connection with those years in which Christianity was founded. Not only did its inhabitants, with those of Tyre, follow the footsteps of JESUS, to hear His words, and to be healed of their diseases (Luke 6:17), but the Son of David Himself visited those coasts, and there rewarded the importunate faith of a Gentile suppliant (Matthew 15., Mark 7.); and soon the prophecy which lay, as it were, involved in this miracle, was fulfilled by the preaching of Evangelists and Apostles. Those who had been converted during the dispersion which followed the martyrdom of Stephen were presently visited by Barnabas and Saul (Acts 11.). Again, Paul with Barnabas passed through these cities on their return from the first victorious journey among the Gentiles (Acts 15:3). Nor were these the only journeys which the Apostle had taken through Phoenicia; (f2246) so that he well knew, on his arrival from Caesarea, that Christian brethren were to be found in Sidon. He, doubtless, told Julius that he had "friends" there, whom he wished to visit, and, either from special commands which had been given by Festus in favor of St. Paul, or through an influence which the Apostle had already gained over the centurion’s mind, the desired permission was granted. If we bear in our remembrance that St. Paul’s health was naturally delicate, and that he must have suffered much during his long detention at Caesarea, a new interest is given to the touching incident, with which the narrative of this voyage opens, that the Roman officer treated this one prisoner "courteously, and gave him liberty to go unto his friends to refresh himself." We have already considered the military position of this centurion, and seen that there are good grounds for identifying him with an officer mentioned by a Heathen historian. (f2247) It gives an additional pleasure to such investigations, when we can record our grateful recollection of kindness shown by him to that Apostle, from whom we have received our chief knowledge of the Gospel.

On going to sea from Sidon, the wind was unfavorable. Hence, whatever the weather had been before, it certainly blew from the westward now. The direct course from Sidon to the "coasts of Asia" would have been to the southward of Cyprus, across the sea over which the Apostle had sailed so prosperously two years before. (f2248) Thus when St. Luke says that "they sailed under the lee (f2249) of Cyprus, because the winds were contrary" he means that they sailed to the north-east and north of the island. If there were any doubt concerning his meaning, it would be made clear by what is said afterwards, that they "sailed through (f2250) the sea which is over against Gilicia and Pamphylia." The reasons why this course was taken will be easily understood by those who have navigated those seas in modern times. By standing to the north, the vessel would fall in with the current which sets in a north-westerly direction past the eastern extremity of Cyprus, and then westerly along the southern coast of Asia Minor, till it is lost at the opening of the Archipelago. (f2251) And besides this, as the land was neared, the wind would draw off the shore, and the water would be smoother; and both these advantages would aid the progress of the vessel. (f2252) Hence she would easily work to windward, (f2253) under the mountains of Cilicia, and through the bay of Pamphylia, — to Lycia, which was the first district in the province of Asia. (f2254) Thus we follow the Apostle once more across the sea over which he had first sailed with Barnabas from Antioch to Salamis, — and within sight of the summits of Taurus, which rise above his native city, — and close by Perga and Attaleia, — till he came to a Lycian harbor not far from Patara, the last point at which he had touched on his return from the third missionary journey.

The Lycian harbor, in which the Adramyttian ship came to anchor on this occasion, after her voyage from Sidon, was Myra, a city which has been fully illustrated by some of those travelers, whose researches have, within these few years, for the first time provided materials for a detailed geographical commentary on the Acts of the Apostles. (f2255) Its situation was at the opening of a long and wonderful gorge, which conducts the traveler from the interior of the mountain-region of Lycia to the sea. (f2256) A wide space of plain intervened between the city and the port. Strabo says that the distance was twenty stadia, or more than two miles. (f2257) If we draw a natural inference from the magnitude of the theatre, (f2258) which remains at the base of the cliffs, and the traces of ruins to some distance across the plain, we should conclude that Myra once held a considerable population: while the Lycian tombs, still conspicuous in the rocks, seem to connect it with a remote period of Asiatic history. (f2259) We trace it, on the other hand, in a later though hardly less obscure period of history: for in the Middle Ages it was called the port of the Adriatic, and was visited by Anglo-Saxon travelers. (f2260) This was the period when St. Nicholas, the saint of the modern Greek sailors, — born at Patara, and buried at Myra, — had usurped the honor which those two cities might more naturally have given to the Apostle who anchored in their harbors. (f2261) In the seclusion of the deep gorge of Dembra is a magnificent Byzantine church, (f2262) — probably the cathedral of the diocese, when Myra was the ecclesiastical and political metropolis of Lycia. (f2263) Another building, hardly less conspicuous, is a granary erected by Trajan near the mouth of the little river Andraki. (f2264) This is the ancient Andriace, which Pliny mentions as the port of Myra, and which is described to us by Appian, in bis narrative of the Civil Wars of Rome, as closed and protected by a chain. (f2265)

Andriace, the port of Myra, was one of the many excellent harbors which abound in the south-western part of Asia Minor. From this circumstance, and from the fact that the coast is high, and visible to a great distance, — in addition to the local advantages which we have mentioned above, the westerly current, and the offshore wind, — it was common for ships bound from Egypt to the westward to be found in this neighborhood when the winds were contrary. (f2266) It was therefore a natural occurrence, and one which could have caused no surprise, when the centurion met in the harbor at Myra with an Alexandrian corn-ship on her voyage to Italy (v. 6). Even if business had not brought her to this coast, she was not really out of her track in a harbor in the same meridian as that of her own port. (f2267) It is probable that the same westerly winds which had hindered St. Paul’s progress from Caesarea to Myra had caused the Alexandrian ship to stand to the north.

Thus the expectation was fulfilled which had induced the centurion to place his prisoners on board the vessel of Adramyttium. (f2268) That vessel proceeded on her homeward route up the coast of the AEgean, if the weather permitted; and we now follow the Apostle through a more eventful part of his voyage, in a ship which was probably much larger than those that were simply engaged in the coasting-trade. From the total number of souls on board (v. 37), and the known fact that the Egyptian merchantmen were among the largest in the Mediterranean, (f2269) we conclude that she was a vessel of considerable size. Every thing that relates to her construction is interesting to us, through the minute account which is given of her misfortunes from the moment of her leaving Myra. The weather was unfavorable from the first. They were "many days" before reaching Cnidus (v. 7):and since the distance from Myra to this place is only a hundred and thirty miles, it is certain that they must have sailed "slowly" (ib.). The delay was of course occasioned by one of two causes, — by calms or by contrary winds. There can be no doubt that the latter was the real cause, not only because the sacred narrative states that they reached Cnidus (f2270) "with difficulty" but because we are informed that, when Cnidus was reached, they could not make good their course (f2271) any farther, "the wind not suffering them" (ibid.). At this point they lost the advantages of a favoring current, a weather-shore and smooth water, and were met by all the force of the sea from the westward; and it was judged the most prudent course, instead of contending with a head sea and contrary winds, to run down to the southward, and after rounding Cape Salmone, the easternmost point of Crete, to pursue the voyage under the lee of that island. (f2272)

Knowing, as we do, the consequences which followed this step, we are inclined to blame it as imprudent, unless, indeed, it was absolutely necessary. For while the south coast of Crete was deficient in good harbors, that of Cnidus was excellent, — well sheltered from the north-westerly winds, fully supplied with all kinds of stores, and in every way commodious, if needful, for wintering. (f2273)

And here, according to our custom, we pause again in the narrative, that we may devote a few lines to the history and description of the place. In early times it was the metropolis of the Asiatic Dorians, who worshipped Apollo, their national Deity, on the rugged headland called the Triopian (f2274) promontory (the modern Cape Crio), which juts out beyond the city to the West. From these heights the people of Cnidus saw that engagement between the fleets of Pisander and Conon, which resulted in the maritime supremacy of Athens. (f2275) To the north-west is seen the island of Cos (p. 604); to the southeast, across a wider reach of sea, is the larger island of Rhodes (p. 606), with which, in their weaker and more voluptuous days, (f2276) Cnidus was united in alliance with Rome, at the beginning of the struggle between Italy and the East. (f2277) The position of the city of Cnidus is to the east of the Triopian headland, where a narrow isthmus unites the promontory with the continent,, and separates the two harbors which Strabo has described. (f2278)

"Few places bear more incontestable proofs of former magnificence; and fewer still of the ruffian industry of their destroyers. The whole area of the city is one promiscuous mass of ruins; among which may be traced streets and gateways, porticoes and theatres." (f2279)

But the remains which are the most worthy to arrest our attention are those of the harbors; not only because Cnidus was a city peculiarly associated with maritime enterprise, (f2280) but because these remains have been less obliterated by violence or decay. "The smallest harbor has a narrow entrance between high piers, and was evidently the closed basin for triremes, which Strabo mentions." But it was the southern and larger port which lay in St. Paul’s course from Myra, and in which the Alexandrian ship must necessarily have come to anchor, if she had touched at Cnidus.

"This port is formed by two transzerse moles; these noble works were carried into the sea to a depth of nearly a hundred feet; one of them is almost perfect; the other, which is more exposed to the south-west swell, can only be seen under water." (f2281)

And we may conclude our description by quoting from another traveler, who speaks of "the remains of an ancient quay on the S. W., supported by Clycopean walls, and in some places cut out of the steep limestone rocks, which rise abruptly from the water’s edge." (f2282)

This excellent harbor, then, from choice or from necessity, was left behind by the seamen of the Alexandrian vessel. Instead of putting back there for shelter, they yielded to the expectation of being able to pursue their voyage under the lee of Crete, and ran down to Cape Salmone: after rounding which, the same "difficulty" would indeed recur (v. 8), but still with the advantage of a weather-shore. The statements at this particular point of St. Luke’s narrative enable us to ascertain, with singular minuteness, the direction of the wind: and it is deeply interesting to observe how this direction, once ascertained, harmonizes all the inferences which we should naturally draw from other parts of the context. But the argument has been so well stated by the first writer who has called attention to this question, that we will present it in his words rather than our own. (f2283)

"The course of a ship on her voyage from Myra to Italy, after she has reached Cnidus, is by the north side of Crete, through the Archipelago, W. by S. Hence a ship which can make good a course of less than seven points from the wind would not have been prevented from proceeding on her course, unless the wind had been to the west of N. N. W. But we are told that she ‘ran under Crete, over against Salmone,’ which implies that she was able to fetch that cape, which bears about S. W. by S. from Cnidus; but, unless the wind had been to the north of W. N. W., she could not have done so. The middle point between N. N. W. and W.N.W. is north-west, which cannot be more than two points, and is probably not more than one, from the true direction. The wind, therefore, would in common language have been termed northwest." (f2284)

And then the author proceeds to quote, what we have quoted elsewhere (p. 605, n. 4), a statement from the English Sailing Directions regarding the prevalence of north-westerly winds in these seas during the summer months; and to point out that the statement is in complete harmony with what Pliny says of the Etesian monsoons.

Under these circumstances of weather, a consideration of what has been said above, with the chart of Crete before us, will show that the voyage could have been continued some distance from Cape Salmone under the lee of the island, as it had been from Myra to Cnidus, (f2285) — but that at a certain point (now called Cape Matala), where the coast trends suddenly to the north, and where the full force of the wind and sea from the westward must have been met, this possibility would have ceased once more, as it had ceased at the south-western corner of the Peninsula. At a short distance to the east of Cape Matala is a roadstead, (f2286) which was then called "Fair Havens," and still retains the same name, (f2287) and which the voyagers successfully reached and came to anchor. There seems to have been no town at Fair Havens: but there was a town near it called Lasaea, (f2288) a circumstance which St. Luke mentions (if we may presume to say so), not with any view of fixing the locality of the roadstead, but simply because the fact was impressed on his memory. (f2289) If the vessel was detained long at this anchorage, the sailors must have had frequent intercourse with Lasaea, and the soldiers too might obtain leave to visit it; and possibly also the prisoners, each with a soldier chained to his arm.

We are not informed of the length of the delay at Fair Havens: but before they left the place, a "considerable time" had elapsed since they had sailed from Caesarea (f2290) (v. 9); and they had arrived at that season of the year when it was considered imprudent to try the open sea. This is expressed by St. Luke by saying that "the fast was already past;" a proverbial phrase among the Jews, employed as we should employ the phrase "about Michaelmas," and indicating precisely that period of the year. (f2291) The fast of expiation was on the tenth of Tisri, and corresponded to the close of September or the beginning of October; (Leviticus 16:29, 23:27.) and is exactly the time when seafaring is pronounced to be dangerous by Greek and Roman writers. (f2292) It became, then, a very serious matter of consultation whether they should remain at Pair Havens for the winter, or seek some better harbor. St. Paul’s advice was very strongly given that they should remain where they were. He warned them that if they ventured to pursue their voyage, they would meet with violent weather, (f2293) with great injury to the cargo and the ship, and much risk to the lives of those on board. It is sufficient if we trace in this warning rather the natural prudence and judgment of St. Paul than the result of any supernatural revelation: though it is possible that a prophetic power was acting (f2294) in combination with the insight derived from long experience of "perils in the sea" (2Corinthians 11:26). He addressed such arguments to his fellow-voyagers as would be likely to influence all: the master (f2295) would naturally avoid what might endanger the ship: the owner (f2296) (who was also on board) would be anxious for the cargo: to the centurion and to all, the risk of perilling their lives was a prospect that could not lightly be regarded. That St. Paul was allowed to give advice at all implies that he was already held in a consideration very unusual for a prisoner in the custody of soldiers; and the time came when his words held a commanding sway over the whole crew: yet we cannot be surprised that on this occasion the centurion was more influenced (f2297) by the words of the owner and the master than those of the Apostle. There could be no doubt that their present anchorage was "incommodious to winter in" (v. 12), and the decision of "the majority" was to leave it so soon as the weather should permit.

On the south coast of the island, somewhat farther to the west, was a harbor called Phoenix, (f2298) with which it seems that some of the sailors wove familiar. (f2299) They spoke of it in their conversation during the delay at Fair Havens, and they described it as "looking (f2300) toward the south-west wind and the north-west wind." If they meant to recommend a harbor, into which these winds blew dead on shore, it would appear to have been unsailor-like advice: and we are tempted to examine more closely whether the expression really means what at first sight it appears to mean, and then to inquire further whether we can identify this description with any existing harbor. This might indeed be considered a question of mere curiosity, — since the vessel never reached Phoenix, — and since the description of the place is evidently not that of St. Luke, but of the sailors, whose conversation he heard. (f2301) But every thing has a deep interest for us which tends to elucidate this voyage. And, first, we think there cannot be a doubt, both from the notices in ancient writers and the continuance of ancient names upon the spot, that Phoenix is to be identified with the modern Lutro. (f2302) This is a harbor which is sheltered from the winds above mentioned: and, without entering fully into the discussions which have arisen upon this subject, we give it as our opinion that the difficulty is to be explained, simply by remembering that sailors speak of every thing from their own point of view, and that such a harbor does "look" — from the water towards the land which encloses it — in the direction of "south-west and north-west." (f2303)

With a sudden change of weather, the north-westerly wind ceasing, and a light air springing up from the south, the sanguine sailors "thought that their purpose was already accomplished" (v. 13). They weighed anchor: and the vessel bore round Cape Matala. The distance to this point from Fair Havens is four or five miles: the bearing is W. by S. With a gentle southerly wind she would be able to weather the cape: and then the wind was fair to Phoenix, which was thirty-five miles distant from the cape, and bore from thence about W. N. W. The sailors already saw the high land above Lutro, and were proceeding in high spirits, — perhaps with fair-weather sails set, (f2304) — certainly with the boat towing astern, (f2305) — forgetful of past difficulties, and blind to impending dangers.

The change in the fortunes of these mariners came without a moment’s warning. (f2306) Soon after weathering Cape Matala, and while they were pursuing their course in full confidence, close by the coast of Crete (f2307) (v. 13), a violent wind came down (f2308) from the mountains, and struck the ship (seizing her, according to the Greek expression, and whirling her round), so that it was impossible for the helmsman to make her keep her course. (f2309) The character of the wind is described in terms expressive of the utmost violence. It came with all the appearance of a hurricane: (f2310) and the name "Euroclydon," which was given to it by the sailors, indicates the commotion in the sea which presently resulted. (f2311) The consequence was, that, in the first instance, they were compelled to scud before the gale. (f2312)

If we wish to understand the events which followed, it is of the utmost consequence that we should ascertain, in the first place, the direction of this gale. Though there is a great weight of opinion in favor of the reading Euroaquilo, in place of Euroclydon, (f2313) — a view which would determine, on critical grounds, that the wind was E. N. E., — we need not consider ourselves compelled to yield absolutely to this authority: and the mere context of the narrative enables us to determine the question with great exactitude. The wind came down from the island and drove the "vessel off the island: whence it is evident that it could not have been southerly. (f2314) If we consider further that the wind struck the vessel when she was not far (f2315) from Cape Matala (v. 14), — that it drove her towards Clauda (f2316) (v. 16), which is an island about twenty miles to the S. W. of that point, — and that the sailors "feared" lest it should drive them into the Syrtis (f2317) on the African coast (v. 17), — all which facts are mentioned in rapid succession, — an inspection of the chart will suffice to show us that the point from which the storm came must have been N. E., or rather to the East of N. E., — and thus we may safely speak of it as coming from the E. N. E. (f2318)

We proceed now to inquire what was done with the vessel under these perilous circumstances. She was compelled at first (as we have seen) to scud before the gale. But three things are mentioned in close connection with her coming near to Clauda, and running under the lee of it. (f2319) Here they would have the advantage of a temporary lull and of comparatively smooth water for a few miles: (f2320) and the most urgent necessity was attended to first. The boat was hoisted on board: but after towing so long, it must have been nearly filled with water: and under any circumstances the hoisting of a boat on board in a gale of wind is a work accomplished "with difficulty." So it was in this instance, as St. Luke informs us. To effect it at all, it would be necessary for the vessel to be rounded to, with her head brought towards the wind; (f2321) a circumstance which, for other reasons (as we shall see presently), it is important to bear in mind. The next precaution that was adopted betrays an apprehension lest the vessel should spring a leak, and so be in danger of foundering at sea. (f2322) They used the tackling, which we have described above, and which provided "helps" in such an emergency. They "undergirded" the ship with ropes passed round her frame and tightly secured on deck. (f2323) And after this, or rather simultaneously (for, as there were many hands on board, these operations might all be proceeding together), they "lowered the gear." This is the most literal translation of the Greek expression. (f2324) In itself it is indeterminate: but it doubtless implies careful preparation for weathering out the storm. What precise change was made we are not able to determine, in our ignorance of the exact state of the ship’s gear at the moment. (f2325) It might mean that the mainsail was reefed and set; or that the great yard (f2326) was lowered upon deck and a small storm-sail hoisted. It is certain that what English seamen call the top-hamper (f2327) would be sent down on deck. As to those fair-weather sails themselves, which may have been too hastily used on leaving Fair Havens, if not taken in at the beginning of the gale, they must have been already blown to pieces.

But the mention of one particular apprehension, as the motive of this last precaution, informs us of something further. It was because they feared lest they "should be driven into the Syrtis" that they "lowered the gear." Now, to avoid this danger, the head of the vessel must necessarily have been turned away from the African coast, in the direction (more or less) from which the wind came. To have scudded before the gale under bare poles, or under storm-sails, would infallibly have stranded them in the Syrtis, — not to mention the danger of pooping, or being swamped by the sea breaking over her stern. To have anchored was evidently impossible. Only one other course remained: and this was what is technically called by sailors lying to. To effect this arrangement, the head of the vessel is brought as near to the wind as possible: a small amount of canvas is set, and so adjusted as to prevent the vessel from falling off into the trough of the sea. (f2328) This plan (as is well known to all who have made long voyages) is constantly resorted to when the object is not so much to make progress as to weather out a gale.

We are here brought to the critical point of the whole nautical difficulty in the narrative of St. Paul’s voyage and shipwreck, and it is desirable to notice very carefully both the ship’s position in reference to the wind and its consequent motion through the water. Assuming that the vessel was laid to, the questions to be answered in reference to its position are these: How near the wind did she lie? and which side did she present to the wind? The first question is answered in some degree by a reference to what was said in the early part of this chapter. (f2329) If an ancient merchantman could go ahead in moderate weather, when within seven points of the wind, we may assume that she would make about the same angle with it when lying to in a gale. (f2330) The second question would be practically determined by the circumstances of the case and the judgment of the sailors. It will be seen very clearly by what follows, that, if the ship had been laid to with her left or port side to the wind, she must have drifted far out of her course, and also in the direction of another part of the African coast. In order to make sure of sea-room, and at the same time to drift to the westward, she must have been laid to with her right side to the wind, or on the starboard tack, — the position which she was probably made to assume at the moment of taking the boat on board. (f2331)

We have hitherto considered only the ship’s position in reference to the wind. We must now consider its motion. When a vessel is laid to, she does not remain stationary, but drifts; and our inquiries of course have reference to the rate and direction of the drift. The rate of drift may vary, within certain limits, according to the build of the vessel and the intensity of the gale; but all seamen would agree, that, under the circumstances before us, a mile and a half in the hour, or thirty-six miles in twenty-four hours, may be taken as a fair average. (f2332) The direction in which she drifts is not that in which she appears to sail, or towards which her bows are turned: but she falls off to leeward: and to the angle formed by the line of the ship’s keel and the line in which the wind blows we must add another, to include what the sailors call lee-way: (f2333) and this may be estimated on an average at six points (67°). Thus we come to the conclusion that the direction of drift would make an angle of thirteen points (147°) with the direction of the wind. If the wind was E. N. E., the course of the vessel would be W. by N. (f2334)

We have been minute in describing the circumstances of the ship at this moment; for it is the point upon which all our subsequent conclusions must turn. (f2335) Assuming now that the vessel was, as we have said, laid to on the larboard tack, with the boat on board and the hull under-girded, drifting from Clauda in a direction W. by N. at the rate of thirty-six miles in twenty-four hours, we pursue the narrative of the voyage, without anticipating the results to which we shall be brought. The more marked incidents of the second and third days of the gale are related to us (vv. 18, 19). The violence of the storm continued without any intermission. (f2336) On "the day after" they left Clauda, "they proceeded to lighten (f2337) the ship" by throwing overboard whatever could be most easily spared. From this we should infer that the precaution of undergirding had been only partially successful, and that the vessel had already sprung a leak. This is made still more probable by what occurred on the "third day." Both sailors and passengers united (f2338) in throwing out all the "spare gear" into the sea. (f2339) Then followed "several days" of continued hardship and anxiety. (f2340) No one who has never been in a leaking ship in a continued gale (f2341) can know what is suffered under such circumstances. The strain both of mind and body — the incessant demand for the labor of all the crew — the terror of the passengers — the hopeless working at the pumps — the laboring of the ship’s frame and cordage — the driving of the storm — the benumbing effect of the cold and wet — make up a scene of no ordinary confusion, anxiety, and fatigue.

But in the present case these evils were much aggravated by the continued overclouding of the sky (a circumstance not unusual during a Levanter), which prevented the navigators from taking the necessary observations of the heavenly bodies. In a modern ship, however dark the weather might be, there would always be a light in the binnacle, and the ship’s course would always be known; but in an ancient vessel, "when neither sun nor stars were seen for many days," the case would be far more hopeless. It was impossible to know how near they might be to the most dangerous coast. And yet the worst danger was that which arose from the leaky state of the vessel. This was so bad, that at length they gave up all hope of being saved, thinking that nothing could prevent her foundering. (f2342) To this despair was added a further suffering from want of food, (f2343) in consequence of the injury done to the provisions, and the impossibility of preparing any regular meal. Hence we see the force of the phrase (f2344) which alludes to what a casual reader might suppose an unimportant part of the suffering, the fact that there was "much abstinence." It was in this time of utter weariness and despair that to the Apostle there rose up "light in the darkness:" and that light was made the means of encouraging and saving the rest. While the Heathen sailors were vainly struggling to subdue the leak, Paul was praying; and God granted to him the lives of all who sailed with him. A vision was vouchsafed to him in the night, as formerly, when he was on the eve of conveying the Gospel from Asia to Europe, and more recently in the midst of those harassing events, which resulted in his voyage from Jerusalem to Rome. When the cheerless day came, he gathered the sailors round him (f2345) on the deck of the laboring vessel, and, raising his voice above the storm, said,

See Notes on Acts 27:21-26.

We are not told how this address was received. But sailors, however reckless they may be in the absence of danger, are peculiarly open to religious impressions: and we cannot doubt that they gathered anxiously round the Apostle, and heard his words as an admonition and encouragement from the other world; that they were nerved for the toil and difficulty which was immediately before them, and prepared thenceforward to listen to the Jewish prisoner as to a teacher sent with a divine commission.

The gale still continued without abatement. Day and night succeeded, and the danger seemed only to increase: till fourteen days had elapsed, during which they had been "drifting through the sea of Adria" (f2346) (v. 27). A gale of such duration, though not very frequent, is by no means unprecedented in that part of the Mediterranean, especially towards winter. (f2347) At the close of the fourteenth day, about the middle of the night, the sailors suspected that they were nearing land. (f2348) There is little doubt as to what were the indications of land. The roar of breakers is a peculiar sound, which can be detected by a practised ear, (f2349) though not distinguishable from the other sounds of a storm by those who have not "their senses exercised" by experience of the sea. When it was reported that this sound was heard by some of the crew, orders were immediately given to heave the lead, and they found that the depth of the water was "twenty fathoms." After a short interval, they sounded again, and found "fifteen fathoms." Though the vicinity of land could not but inspire some hope, as holding out the prospect of running the ship ashore (f2350) and so being saved, yet the alarm of the sailors was great when they perceived how rapidly they were shoaling the water. It seems also that they now heard breakers ahead. (f2351) However this might be, there was the utmost danger lest the vessel should strike and go to pieces. No time was to be lost. Orders were immediately given to clear the anchors. But, if they had anchored by the bow, there was good ground for apprehending that the vessel would have swung round and gone upon the rocks. They therefore let go "four anchors by the stem." For a time, the vessel’s way was arrested: but there was too much reason to fear that she might part from her anchors and go ashore, if indeed she did not founder in the night: and "they waited anxiously for the day."

The reasons are obvious why she anchored by the stern rather than in the usual mode. Besides what has been said above, her way would be more easily arrested, and she would be in a better position for being run ashore (f2352) next day. But since this mode of anchoring has raised some questions, it may be desirable, in passing, to make a remark on the subject. That a vessel can anchor by the stern is sufficiently proved (if proof were needed) by the history of some of our own naval engagements. So it was at the battle of the Nile. And when ships are about to attack batteries, it is customary for them to go into action prepared to anchor in this way. This was the case at Algiers. There is still greater interest in quoting the instance of Copenhagen, not only from the accounts wo have of the precision with which each ship let go her anchors astern as she arrived nearly opposite her appointed station, (f2353) but because it is said that Nelson stated after the battle, that he had that morning been reading the twenty-seventh chapter of the Acts of the Apostles. (f2354) But, though it will be granted that this manoeuvre is possible with due preparation, it may be doubted whether it could be accomplished in a gale of wind on a lee shore, without any previous notice. The question in fact is, whether ancient ships in the Mediterranean were always prepared to anchor in this way. Some answer to this doubt is supplied by the present practice of the Levantine caiques, which preserve in great measure the traditionary build and rig of ancient merchantmen. These modern Greek vessels may still be seen anchoring by the stern in the Golden Horn at Constantinople, or on the coast of Patmos. (f2355)

But the best illustration is afforded by one of the paintings of Herculaneum, which represents "a ship so strictly contemporaneous with that of St. Paul, that there is nothing impossible in the supposition, that the artist had taken his subject from that very ship, on loosing from the pier at Puteoli." (f2356) There is this additional advantage to be obtained from an inspection of this rude drawing, that we see very clearly how the rudders would be in danger of interfering with this mode of anchoring, — a subject to which our attention will presently be required. (f2357) Our supposed objector, if he had a keen sense of practical difficulties, might still insist that to have anchored in this way (or indeed in the ordinary way) would have been of little avail in St. Paul’s ship: since it could not be supposed that the anchors would have held in such a gale of wind. To this we can only reply, that this course was adopted to meet a dangerous emergency. The sailors could not have been certain of the result. They might indeed have had confidence in their cables: but they could not be sure of their holding ground.

This is one of the circumstances which must be taken into account, when we sum up the evidence in proof that the place of shipwreck was Malta. At present we make no such assumption. We will not anticipate the conclusion till we have proceeded somewhat farther with the narrative. We may, however, ask the reader to pause for a moment, and reconsider what was said of the circumstances of the vessel when we described what was done under the lee of Clauda. We then saw that the direction in which she was drifting was W. by N. Now an inspection of the chart will show us that this is exactly the bearing of the northern part of Malta from the south of Clauda. We saw, moreover, that she was drifting at the rate of about a mile and a half in every hour, or thirtysix miles in the twenty-four hours. Since that time, thirteen days had elapsed: for the first of the "fourteen days" would be taken up on the way from Pair Havens to Clauda. (f2358) The ship therefore had passed over a distance of about 468 miles. The distance between Clauda and Malta is rather less than 480 miles. The coincidence (f2359) is so remarkable, that it seems hardly possible to believe that the land, to which the sailors on the fourteenth night "deemed that they drew nigh," — the "certain island" on which it was prophesied that they should be cast, — could be any other place than Malta. The probability is overwhelming. But we must not yet assume the fact as certain: for we shall find, as we proceed, that the conditions are very numerous which the true place of shipwreck will be required to satisfy.

We return, then, to the ship, which we left laboring at her four anchors. The coast was invisible, but the breakers were heard in every pause of the storm. The rain was falling in torrents; (f2360) and all hands were weakened by want of food. But the greatest danger was lest the vessel should founder before daybreak. The leak was rapidly gaining, and it was expected that each moment might be the last. Under these circumstances we find the sailors making a selfish attempt to save themselves, and leave the ship and the pasengers to their fate. Under the pretence of carrying out some anchors from the bow, they lowered the boat over the ship’s side (v. 30). The excuse was very plausible, for there is no doubt that the vessel would have been more steady if this had been done; and, in order to effect it, it would be necessary to take out anchors in the boat. But their real intention was to save their own lives and leave the passengers. (f2361) St. Paul penetrated their design, and either from some divine intimation of the instruments which were to be providentially employed for the safety of all on board, — or from an intuitive judgment, which showed him that those who would be thus left behind, the passengers and soldiers, would not be able to work the ship in any emergency that might arise, — he saw that, if the sailors accomplished their purpose, all hope of being saved would be gone. (f2362) With his usual tact, he addressed not a word to the sailors, but spoke to the soldiers and his friend the centurion; (f2363) and they, with military promptitude, held no discussion on the subject, but decided the question by immediate action. With that short sword, with which the Roman legions cleft their way through every obstacle to universal victory, they "cut the ropes;" and the boat fell off, (f2364) and, if not instantly swamped, drifted off to leeward into the darkness, and was dashed to pieces on the rocks.

Thus the prudent counsel of the Apostle, seconded by the prompt action of the soldiers, had been the means of saving all on board. Each successive incident tended to raise him, more and more, into a position of overpowering influence. (f2365) Not the captain or the ship’s crew, but the passenger and the prisoner, is looked to now as the source of wisdom and safety. We find him using this influence for the renewal of their bodily strength, while at the same time he turned their thoughts to the providential care of God. By this time the dawn of day was approaching. (f2366) A faint light showed more of the terrors of the storm, and the objects on board the ship began to be more distinctly visible. Still, towards the land, all was darkness, and their eyes followed the spray in vain as it drifted off to leeward. A slight effort of imagination suffices to bring before us an impressive spectacle, as we think of the dim light just showing the haggard faces of the 276 persons, (f2367) clustered on the deck, and holding on by the bulwarks of the sinking vessel. In this hour of anxiety the Aposti-stands forward to give them courage. He reminds them that they had "eaten nothing" for fourteen days; and exhorts them now to partake of a hearty meal, pointing out to them that this was indeed essential to their safety, (f2368) and encouraging them by the assurance that "not a hair (f2369) of their head" should perish. So speaking, he set the example of the cheerful use of God’s gifts, and grateful acknowledgment of the Giver, by taking bread, "giving thanks to God before all," and beginning to eat. Thus encouraged by his calm and religious example, they felt their spirits revive, (f2370) and "they also partook of food," and made themselves ready for the labor which awaited them. (f2371)

Instead of abandoning themselves to despair, they proceeded actively to adopt the last means for relieving the still sinking vessel. The cargo of wheat was now of no use. It was probably spoilt by the salt water. And however this might be, it was not worth a thought; since it was well known that the vessel would be lost. Their hope now was to run her on shore, and so escape to land. Besides this, it is probable that, the ship having been so long in one position, the wheat had shifted over to the port side, and prevented the vessel from keeping that upright position, which would be most advantageous when they came to steer her towards the shore. (f2372) The hatchways were therefore opened, and they proceeded to throw the grain into the sea. This work would occupy some time; and when it was accomplished, the day had dawned, and the land was visible. (f2373) The sailors looked hard at the shore, but they could not recognize it. (f2374) Though ignorant, however, of the name of the coast off which they were anchored, they saw one feature in it which gave them a hope that they might accomplish their purpose of running the ship aground. They perceived a small bay or indentation, with a sandy or pebbly beach: (f2375) and their object was, "if possible," so to steer the vessel that she might take the ground at that point. To effect this, every necessary step was carefully taken. While cutting the anchors adrift, they unloosed the lashings with which the rudders had been secured, (f2376) and hoisted the foresail. (f2377) These three things would be done simultaneously, (f2378) as indeed is implied by St. Luke; and there were a sufficient number of hands on board for the purpose. The free use of the rudders would be absolutely necessary; nor would this be sufficient without the employment of some sail. (f2379) It does not appear quite certain whether they exactly hit the point at which they aimed. (f2380) We are told that they fell into "a place between two seas" (a feature of the coast, which will require our consideration presently), and there stranded the ship. The bow stuck fast in the shore, and remained unmoved; but the stern began immediately to go to pieces (f2381) under the action of the sea.

And now another characteristic incident is related. The soldiers, who were answerable with their lives for the detention of their prisoners, were afraid lest some of them should swim out and escape: and therefore, in the spirit of true Roman cruelty, they proposed to kill them at once. Now again the influence of St. Paul over the centurion’s mind (f2382) was made the means of saving both his own life and that of his fellow-prisoners. For the rest he might care but little; but he was determined to secure Paul’s safety. (f2383) He therefore prevented the soldiers from accomplishing their heartless intention, and directed (f2384) those who could swim to "cast themselves into the sea" first, while the rest made use of spars and broken pieces of the wreck. Thus it came to pass that all escaped safely (f2385) through the breakers to the shore.

When the land was safely reached, it was ascertained that the island on which they were wrecked was Melita. The mere word does not absolutely establish the identity of the place; for two islands were anciently called alike by this name. This, therefore, is the proper place for summing up the evidence which has been gradually accumulating in proof that it was the modern Malta. We have already seen (p. 711) the almost irresistible inference which follows from the consideration of the direction and rate of drift since the vessel was laid to under the lee of Clauda. But we shall find that every succeeding indication not only tends to bring us to the shore of this island, but to the very bay (the Cala di San Paolo) which has always been the traditionary scene of the wreck.

In the first place we are told that they became aware of land by the presence of breakers, and yet without striking. Now an inspection of the chart will show us that a ship drifting W. by N. might approach Koura Point, the eastern boundary of St. Paul’s Bay, without having fallen in previously with any other part of the coast; for, towards the neighborhood of Valetta, the shore trends rapidly to the southward. (f2386) Again, the character of this point, as described in the Sailing Directions, is such that there must infallibly have been violent breakers upon it that night. (f2387) Yet a vessel drifting W. by N. might pass it, within a quarter of a mile, without striking on the rocks. But what are the soundings at this point? They are now twenty fathoms. If we proceed a little farther, we find fifteen fathoms. It may be said that this, in itself, is nothing remarkable. But if we add, that the fifteen-fathom depth is in the direction of the vessel’s drift (W. by N.) from the twenty-fathom depth, the coincidence is startling. (f2388)

But at this point we observe, on looking at the chart, that now there would be breakers ahead, — and yet at such a distance ahead, that there would be time for the vessel to anchor before actually striking on the rocks. (f2389) All these conditions must necessarily be fulfilled; and we see that they are fulfilled without any attempt at ingenious explanation. But we may proceed farther. The character of the coast on the farther side of the bay is such, that, though the greater part of it is fronted with mural precipices, there are one or two indentations, (f2390) which exhibit the appearance of "a creek with a [sandy or pebbly] shore." And again we observe that the island of Salmonetta is so placed, that the sailors, looking from the deck when the vessel was at anchor, could not possibly be aware that it was not a continuous part of the mainland; whereas, while they were running her aground, they could not help observing the opening of the channel, which would thus appear (like the Bosphorus) (f2391) "a place between two seas," and would be more likely to attract their attention if some current resulting from this juxtaposition of the island and the coast interfered with the accuracy of their steering. (f2392) And finally, to revert to the fact of the anchors holding through the night (a result which could not confidently be predicted), we find it stated, in our English Sailing Directions, (f2393) that the ground in St. Paul’s Bay is so good, that, "while the cables hold, there is no danger, as the anchors will never start."

Malta was not then the densely-crowded island which it has become during the last half-century. (f2394) Though it was well known to the Romans as a dependency of the province of Sicily, (f2395) and though the harbor now called Valetta must have been familiar to the Greek mariners who traded between the East and the West, (f2396) — much of the island was doubtless uncultivated and overrun with wood. Its population was of Phoenician origin, — speaking a language which, as regards social intercourse, had the same relation to Latin and Greek which modern Maltese has to English and Italian. (f2397) The inhabitants, however, though in this sense (f2398) "barbarians," were favorably contrasted with many Christian wreckers in their reception of those who had been cast on their coast. They showed them no "ordinary kindness;" for they lighted a fire and welcomed them all to the warmth, drenched and shivering as they were in the rain and the cold. The whole scene is brought very vividly before us in the sacred narrative. One incident has become a picture in St. Paul’s life, with which every Christian child is familiar. The Apostle had gathered with his own hand a heap of sticks, and placed them on the fire, when a viper came "out of the heat" and fastened on his hand. The poor superstitious people, when they saw this, said to one another, "This man must be a murderer: he has escaped from the sea: but still vengeance suffers him not to live." But Paul threw off the animal into the fire and suffered no harm. Then they watched him, expecting that his body would become swollen, or that he would suddenly fall down dead. At length, after they had watched for a long time in vain, and saw nothing happen to him, their feelings changed as violently as those of the Lystrians had done in an opposite direction; (f2399) and they said that he was a god. We are not told of the results to which this occurrence led, but we cannot doubt that while Paul repudiated, as formerly at Lystra, (f2400) all the homage which idolatry would pay to him, he would make use of the influence acquired by this miracle, for making the savior known to his uncivilized benefactors.

St. Paul was enabled to work many miracles during his stay in Malta. The first which is recorded is the healing of the father of Publius, the governor of the island, (f2401) who had some possessions (f2402) near the place where the vessel was lost, and who had given a hospitable reception to the shipwrecked strangers, and supplied their wants for three days. The disease under which the father of Publius was suffering was dysentery in an aggravated form. (f2403) St. Paul went in to him and prayed, and laid his hands on him; and he recovered. This being noised through the island, other sufferers came to the Apostle, and were healed. Thus he was empowered to repay the kindness of these islanders by temporal services intended to lead their minds to blessings of a still higher kind. And they were not wanting in gratitude to those whose unexpected visit had brought so much good among them. They loaded them with every honor in their power, and, when they put to sea again, supplied them with every thing that was needful for their wants (ver. 10).

Before we pursue the concluding part of the voyage, which was so prosperous that hardly any incident in the course of it is recorded, it may be useful to complete the argument by which Malta is proved to be the scene of St. Paul’s shipwreck, by briefly noticing some objections which have been brought against this view. It is true that the positive evidence already adduced is the strongest refutation of mere objections; but it is desirable not to leave unnoticed any of the arguments which appear to have weight on the other side. Some of them have been carelessly brought together by a great writer, to whom, on many subjects, we might be glad to yield our assent. (f2404) Thus it is argued, that, because the vessel is said to have been drifting in the Adriatic, the place of shipwreck must have been, not Malta to the south of Sicily, but Meleda in the Gulf of Venice. It is no wonder that the Benedictine of Ragusa (f2405) should have been jealous of the honor of his order, which had a convent on that small island. But it is more surprising that the view should have been maintained by other writers since. (f2406) For not only do the classical poets (f2407) use the name "Adria" for all that natural division of the Mediterranean which lies between Sicily and Greece, but the same phraseology is found in historians and geographers.

Thus Ptolemy distinguishes clearly between the Adriatic Sea and the Adriatic Gulf. Pausanias says that the Straits of Messina unite the Tyrrhene Sea with the Adriatic Sea; and Procopius (f2408) considers Malta as lying on the boundary of the latter. Nor are the other objections more successful. It is argued that Alexandrian sailors could not possibly have been ignorant of an island so well known as Malta was then. But surely they might have been very familiar with the harbor of Valetta, without being able to recognize that part of the coast on which they came during the storm. A modern sailor who had made many passages between New York and Liverpool might yet be perplexed if he found himself in hazy weather on some part of the coast of Wales. (f2409) Besides, we are told that the seamen did recognize the island as soon as they were ashore. (f2410) It is contended also that the people of Malta would not have been called barbarians. But, if the sailors were Greeks (as they probably were), they would have employed this term, as a matter of course, of those who spoke a different language from their own. (f2411) Again it is argued that there are no vipers — that there is hardly any wood — in Malta. But who does not recognize here the natural changes which result from the increase of inhabitants (f2412) and cultivation? Within a very few years there was wood close to St. Paul’s Bay; (f2413) and it is well known how the Fauna of any country varies with the vegetation. (f2414) An argument has even been built on the supposed fact that the disease of Publius is unknown in the island. To this it is sufficient to reply by a simple denial. (f2415) Nor can we close this rapid survey of objections without noticing the insuperable difficulties which lie against the hypothesis of the Venetian Meleda, from the impossibility of reaching it, except by a miracle, under the above-related circumstances of weather, (f2416) — from the disagreement of its soundings with what is required by the narrative of the shipwreck, (f2417) — and from the inconsistency of its position with what is related of the subsequent voyage. (f2418) To this part of the voyage we must now proceed.

After three months they sailed again for Italy in a ship called the Castor and Pollux. (f2419) Syracuse was in their track, and the ship put into that famous harbor, and staid there three days. Thus St. Paul was in a great historic city of the West, after spending much time in those of greatest note in the East. We are able to associate the Apostle of the Gentiles and the thoughts of Christianity with the scenes of that disastrous expedition which closed the progress of the Athenians towards our part of Europe, — and with those Punic Wars, which ended in bringing Africa under the yoke of Rome. We are not told whether St. Paul was permitted to go on shore at Syracuse; but from the courtesy shown him by Julius, it is probable that this permission was not refused. If he landed, he would doubtless find Jews and Jewish proselytes in abundance, in so great a mercantile emporium; and would announce to them the Glad Tidings which he was commissioned to proclaim "to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile." Hence we may without difficulty give credit to the local tradition, which regards St. Paul as the first founder of the Sicilian church.

Sailing out of that beautiful land-locked basin, and past Ortygia, once an island, (f2420) but then united in one continuous town with the buildings under the ridge of Epipolae, — the ship which carried St. Paul to Rome shaped her course northwards towards the straits of Messina. The weather was not favorable at first: they were compelled to take an indirect course, (f2421) and they put into Rhegium, a city whose patron divinities were, by a curious coincidence, the same hero-protectors of seafaring men, "the Great Twin Brethren," to whom the ship itself was dedicated. (f2422)

Here they remained one day (ver. 13), evidently waiting for a fair wind to take them through the Faro; for the springing-up of a wind from the south is expressly mentioned in the following words. This wind would be favorable, not only for carrying the ship through the straits, but for all the remainder of the voyage. If the vessel was single-masted, (f2423) with one large square-sail, this wind was the best that could blow: for to such a vessel the most advantageous point of sailing is to run right before the wind; (f2424) and Puteoli lies nearly due north from Rhegium. The distance is about 182 miles. If, then, we assume, in accordance with what has been stated above (p. 683), that she sailed at the rate of seven knots an hour, (f2425) the passage would be accomplished in about twenty-six hours, which agrees perfectly with the account of St. Luke, who says that, after leaving Rhegium, they came, "the next day" to Puteoli.

Before the close of the first day they would see on the left the volcanic cone and smoke of Stromboli, the nearest of the Liparian islands. In the course of the night they would have neared that projecting part of the mainland, which forms the southern limit of the bay of Salerno. (f2426) Sailing across the wide opening of this gulf, they would, in a few hours, enter that other bay, the bay of Naples, in the northern part of which Puteoli was situated. No long description need be given of that bay, which has been made familiar, by every kind of illustration, even to those who have never seen it. Its south-eastern limit is the promontory of Minerva, with the island of Capreae opposite, which is so associated with the memory of Tiberius, that its cliffs still seem to rise from the blue waters as a monument of hideous vice in the midst of the fairest scenes of nature. The opposite boundary was the promontory of Misenum, where one of the imperial fleets (f2427) lay at anchor under the shelter of the islands of Ischia and Procida. In the intermediate space the Campanian coast curves round in the loveliest forms, with Vesuvius as the prominent feature of the view. But here one difference must be marked between St. Paul’s day and our own. The angry neighbor of Naples was not then an unsleeping volcano, but a green and sunny background to the bay, with its westward slope covered with vines. (f2428) No one could have suspected that the time was so near, when the admiral of the fleet at Misenum would be lost in its fiery eruption; (f2429) and little did the Apostle dream, when he looked from the vessel’s deck across the bay to the right, that a ruin, like that of Sodom and Gomorrah, hung over the fair cities at the base of the mountain, and that the Jewish princess, who had so lately conversed with him in his prison at Caesarea, would find her tomb in that ruin, with the child she had borne to Felix. (f2430)

By this time the vessel was well within the island of Capreae and the promontory of Minerva, and the idlers of Puteoli were already crowding to the pier to watch the arrival of the Alexandrian corn-ship; so we may safely infer from a vivid and descriptive letter preserved among the correspondence of the philosopher Seneca. He say that all ships, on rounding into the bay within the above-mentioned island and promontory, were obliged to strike their topsails, with the exception of the Alexandrian corn-vessels, which were thus easily recognized as soon as they hove in sight; and then he proceeds to moralize on the gathering and crowding of the people of Puteoli to watch these vessels coming in. Thus we are furnished with new circumstances to aid our efforts to realize the arrival of the Castor and Pollux, on the coast of Italy, with St. Paul on board. And if we wish still further to associate this event with the history and the feeling of the times, we may turn to an anecdote of the Emperor Augustus which is preserved to us by Suetonius. The Emperor had been seized with a feverish attack, — it was the beginning of his last illness, — and was cruising about the bay for the benefit of his health, when an Alexandrian corn-ship was coming to her moorings, and passed close by. The sailors recognized the old man, whom the civilized world obeyed as master, and was learning to worship as God; and they brought out garlands and incense, that they might pay him divine honors, saying that it was by his providence that their voyages were made safe and that their trade was prosperous. Augustus was so gratified by this worship, that he immediately distributed an immense sum of gold among his suite, exacting from them the promise that they would expend it all in the purchase of Alexandrian goods. Such was the interest connected in the first century with the trade between Alexandria and Puteoli. Such was the idolatrous homage paid to the Roman Emperor. The only difference, when the Apostle of Christ came, was that the vice and corruption of the Empire had increased with the growth of its trade, and that the Emperor now was not Augustus, but Nero.

In this wide and sunny expanse of blue waters, no part was calmer or more beautiful than the recess in the northern part of the bay between Baiae and Puteoli. It was naturally sheltered by the surrounding coasts, and seemed of itself to invite both the gratification of luxurious ease, and the formation of a mercantile harbor. Baiae was devoted to the former purpose; it was to the invalids and fashionable idlers of Rome like a combination of Brighton and Cheltenham. Puteoli, on the opposite side of this inner bay, was the Liverpool of Italy. Between them was that enclosed reach of water called the Lucrine Lake, which contained the oyster-beds for the luxurious tables of Rome, and on the surface of which the small yachts of fashionable visitors displayed their colored sails. Still farther inland was that other calm basin, the Lacus Avernus, which an artificial passage connected with the former, and thus converted into a harbor. Not far beyond was Cumae, once a flourishing Greek city, but, when the Apostle visited this coast, a decayed country town, famous only for the recollections of the Sibyl. (f2431)

We must return to Puteoli. We have seen above (p. 684) how it divided with Ostia the chief commerce by sea between Rome and the provinces. Its early name, when the Campanian shore was Greek rather than Italian, was Dicaearchia. Under its new appellation (which seems to have had reference to the mineral springs of the neighborhood) (f2432) it first began to have an important connection with Rome in the second Punic war. It was the place of embarkation for armies proceeding to Spain, and the landing-place of ambassadors from Carthage. Ever afterwards it was an Italian town of the first rank. In the time of Vespasian it became the Flavian Colony, like the city in Palestine from which St. Paul had sailed; (f2433) but even from an earlier period it had colonial privileges, and these had just been renewed under Nero. It was intimately associated both with this Emperor and with two others who preceded him in power and in crime. Close by Baiae, across the bay, was Bauli, where the plot was laid for the murder of Agrippina. (f2434) Across these waters Caligula built his fantastic bridge; and the remains of it were probably visible when St. Paul landed. (f2435) Tiberius had a. more honorable monument in a statue (of which a fragment is still seen by English travelers at Pozzuoli) erected during St. Paul’s life to commemorate the restitution of the Asiatic cities overthrown by an earthquake. (f2436) But the ruins which are the most interesting to us are the seventeen piers of the ancient mole on which the lighthouse stood, and within which the merchant-men were moored. Such is the proverbial tenacity of the concrete which was used in this structure, (f2437) that it is the most perfect ruin existing of any ancient Roman harbor. In the earlier part of this chapter, we spoke of the close mercantile relationship which subsisted between Egypt and this city. And this remains on our minds as the prominent and significant fact of its history, — whether we look upon the ruins of the mole, and think of such voyages as those of Titus and Vespasian, (f2438) or wander among the broken columns of the Temple of Serapis, (f2439) or read the account which Philo gives of the singular interview of the Emperor Caligula with the Jewish ambassadors from Alexandria. (f2440)

Puteoli, from its trade with Alexandria and the East, must necessarily have contained a colony of Jews, and they must have had a close connection with the Jews of Rome. What was true of the Jews would probably find its parallel in the Christians. St. Paul met with disciples here; (Acts 28:14.) and, as soon as he was among them, they were in prompt communication on the subject with their brethren in Rome. (f2441) The Italian Christians had long been looking for a visit from the famous Apostle, though they had not expected to see him arrive thus, a prisoner in chains, hardly saved from shipwreck. But these sufferings would only draw their hearts more closely towards him. They earnestly besought him to stay some days with them, and Julius was able to allow this request to be complied with. (f2442) Even when the voyage began, we saw that he was courteous and kind towards his prisoner; and, after all the varied and impressive incidents which have been recounted in this chapter, we should indeed be surprised if we found him unwilling to contribute to the comfort of one by whom his own life had been preserved.