about? He was asked to speak 'concerning the faith in Christ.' And do you note what Paul did speak about? He reasoned of righteousness and self-control and judgment. Righteousness-and Felix was a promise-breaker, and had procured the murder of the High-priest Jonathan. Self-control-and there at his side, eagerly listening, sat beautiful Drusilla. Judgment-that was the very thought that haunted Felix, only it was the judgment of his emperor, not of his God. No wonder Felix trembled. He had the soul of a slave, says Tacitus, and the power of a sovereign. He would hear no more; Paul was dismissed; 'when I have a convenient (not more convenient) season, I will call for thee.'

ABOUT the year 60, Felix was recalled, and was suc

ceeded in the governorship by Porcius Festus. Festus seems to have been a better ruler, and probably he was a better man, than Felix, but, like a Roman, he cared little for religion, and could not understand religious earnestness. He was perplexed about this Jewish prisoner; it occurred to him that he might try the case at Jerusalem; and it was then that Paul, apprehending the danger he was in, took the great step of appealing to Cæsar. That is not in the passage to be read; but it must be touched on to illuminate the passage. For it was not till Paul had appealed to Cæsar, that Agrippa and Bernice came to Cæsarea. Might not they be able to unravel Festus' difficulties? They were Jews, and understood the points at issue. Festus arranged that a court should be convened, at which Agrippa and Bernice might be present. It was then that Paul made that most noble defence which is recorded in the twenty-sixth chapter. He told the story of his conversion again, for his greatest defence of all just lay in that. And our passages take up the narrative at the point where Paul has touched on resurrection, and has been rudely silenced by Festus crying out in a loud voice, 'Paul, thou art mad!' Paul

instantly, and without losing self-command, repels the charge. He appeals to Agrippa on the grounds of Jewish prophecy. And Agrippa replies in these memorable words, 'Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian.' Do we know what Agrippa really meant? He did not mean ‘I am almost persuaded.' The Greek words that have been translated so are not capable of bearing such a sense. What Agrippa meant was, 'Paul, do you think that with a little persuasion you are going to persuade me to be a Christian? It is a far harder task than you

imagine.'

NOW let us note three simple lessons, and first the peril of to-morrow. Some one has said that to-day has two great enemies-the one is yesterday, the other is to-morrow. Are we not reminded of that whenever we think of Felix, whose evil past was such a burden on him, and who talked of a convenient time-which never came. Next mark how history reverses human judgments. Peter and the other disciples were despised, because they were ignorant and unlettered men. Paul was put to scorn by Festus for just the opposite reason-he had learned too much. Men thought the prophets of Israel raved. They said of Jesus that He was beside Himself. Is there any one now who would harbour such a thought? Lastly, see the perfect courtesy of the apostle-'I would you were altogether as I am except these bonds.' 'Courtesy,' says St. Francis of Assisi, 'is the sister of charity, which quencheth hate and keepeth love alive.' Never forget that God's mighty missionary was one of the truest gentlemen who ever breathed.

FIFTIETH SUNDAY

Morning

THE BURNING FIERY FURNACE

WH

Passage to be read: Dan. iii. 1-30.

HEN the foreign troubles of Nebuchadnezzar had been settled, and his hands were freed from the stern tasks of war, he turned his thoughts to the worship of the gods, who had prospered him (as he thought) in his campaigns. Erasmus, in one of his inimitable letters, narrates something he had witnessed during a storm at sea. He had seen a sailor on his knees while the storm raged, vowing a mighty wax candle to the Virgin. And when one charged the sailor with the madness of his vow (for all his savings would not purchase such a candle), the sailor bade the speaker hold his tongue, for if he got safe ashore the Virgin might look out for herself. Nebuchadnezzar was of a worthier manhood. His gods had prospered him, and he would honour them. And so we find him rebuilding their temples in Babylon, and reviving forgotten ordinances of worship, and setting up, in the honour of some deity, a great image of gold upon the plain. We must not think it was of solid gold. We shall find in Isaiah how the image was made (Isa. xliv. 9-20). Like idolatry itself, it glittered outwardly, but there was nothing real about its heart. Here, then, on the day of dedication, there gathered a vast multitude of people. Many a strange dress and stranger dialect was there, from the outlying provinces of Babylon.

And when the music sounded, and the cymbals clashed, and the morning sunlight glanced on the golden figure, the vast crowd flung themselves prostrate and worshipped the image that the king had made.

Now

W one would have thought that in such a crowd as that the absence of three men would have been undetected. But jealousy (like love) has piercing eyes. When Mary of Lorraine was regent in Scotland, most of the high offices of state were held by Frenchmen; and we know from history how bitter was the feeling that aliens should be favoured in that way. No doubt it was the same in Babylon. The natives were angry at these brilliant strangers. They fretted under the sway of foreign governors, and would lose no chance to secure their overthrow. And now the opportunity had come; Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were absent; and the doom of the fiery furnace had been pronounced on any man who dared absent himself. Tidings were swiftly carried to the king. The exiles were brought into the royal presence. And there, with a heroism that the world would call reckless, they avowed their intention of holding fast to God. It was a new thing for an Oriental monarch to be bearded by his prisoners like that. He fell into a paroxysm of fury-the passions of a despot are ungovernable. The heat of the furnace was increased sevenfold, and the three Jews were marched out to their doom.

BUT man's extremity is God's opportunity. When

everything is darkest, God is nighest. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were faithful unto death, and unexpectedly they gained a crown of life. I fancy that among the swaying thousands there was a grim satisfaction at the scene. I do not think that many eyes were pitiful, as the three prisoners moved towards their death. There have been martyrs who were cheered in the last

hour by the prayer and the love of many in the crowd; but in all that multitude upon the plain of Dura, I doubt if there was one sympathetic heart. But Shadrach and Meshach and Abednego had God. They had a very present help in time of trouble. They did not dream, when the blast of the furnace met them, how gloriously God was going to work. They reach the fire; they are cast into it. The flames leap out and scorch their guards to death. And Nebuchadnezzar in his chair of state (like Cardinal Beaton in his window at St. Andrews) looks out to the furnace-bars to see the end. Have his eyes tricked him? Is his brain reeling? Had the

soldiers added Daniel to the three? There goes a thrill of excitement through the crowd as the king starts, and grasps the winged lions of his chair. We know now that it was not Daniel whom he saw. It was one fairer than Daniel, for all his pulse and water. It was a figure, human yet divinely beautiful; not wrinkled with age, but with the dew of youth on it-it was something like that that a Babylonian would mean, when he spoke of having seen a son of God. We mean a great deal more than that; but I do not think we mean too much. For the presence of the eternal Son was with His own, and He is fairer than the sons of men. And so the passage closes with the rescue, and with the restoration of the three to their high posts. And as the crowds went homeward to their villages, over the hills, and down the flower-clad valleys, there would lie a strange sense on many hearts of a Power greater than the golden image.

THESE three lessons meet us in the chapter: (1) Re

ligion will keep us out of certain crowds. There were powerful inducements for the three Jews to be present, on the day of the dedication of the image. Curiosity alone would have moved them to be there, and there were weighty reasons for it apart from that. But they deliberately stayed away from the assembly, and they did