Judæan heaven above him.

the angel has departed.

Another moment, and

God had effected the

rescue of his servant, and now he would be left as usual to his own efforts. He had been so amazed by the whole transaction, that for a little while he is confused and overwhelmed; but calmer thought returns, and in an ecstasy of gratitude he exclaims, "Now I know of a surety that the Lord hath sent his angel, and hath delivered me out of the hand of Herod, and from all the expectation of the people of the Jews!"

Oh, there are moments in the Christian's life when he rises on the wings of faith, leaving earth and all its sorrows far below; and just as the man who after gazing long on the sun discerns the landscape with difficulty, his mental gaze has been so fixed on Jesus that the pleasures and cares of life lose their importance. This, we think, must now be the case with Peter. There he stands, lost in thought; at length he looks around him. What is that gentle light that gleams in the distance? tells of a home of quiet Christian love. It is the abode of Mary, the mother of John. Thither Peter bends his steps, exclaiming, perhaps, in the fulness of his heart as he walks along, "He delivereth me from mine enemies; yea, thou liftest me up above those that rise up against me; thou hast delivered me from the violent man!"

It

Peter approaches the dwelling. Surely they

must be sleeping, for it is night. Yet, why that lamp? Look again; they are praying. We are told that prayers were made, night and day, for this beloved apostle. Peter, their friend and pastor, was to be put to death the next day, and can they cease with strong crying and tears to ask for his deliverance? With united voices, even now they are making supplication. "Keep him, O Lord," we can imagine we hear them say, "from the hands of the wicked; preserve him from the violent man ;” and whilst they are yet calling, he hears. Who knocks loudly at the entrance? Rhoda, a damsel, hastens to the gate; and when she knew Peter's voice, she opened not the gate for gladness, but ran in and told how Peter stood before the gate. Yes, she returns amongst them, pale and breathless, exclaiming, "Peter is at the door!" "It cannot be!" was the amazed reply, even of those who had been so fervently praying for his rescue. All this time Peter continues knocking; and it was not till they saw him standing before them, that they were perfectly convinced it was no angel, but Peter, their beloved instructor and friend.

Oh! the weakness of man. They had prayed in much earnestness, and, as they thought, in the confidence of faith, and, now that their prayers are answered, they think it a blessing too great to be theirs. Is not this sometimes the case with us?

Have we, for instance, never prayed earnestly for the recovery of a friend, and when that friend was given back to our prayers, when the pressing danger was over, have we not been ready to attribute his recovery to the skill of the physician, to the efficacy of some newly-discovered and powerful remedy, rather than to Him whose unseen arm, at our earnest entreaty, has arrested the progress of the destroying angel? Oh, let us be careful, that we give the glory where it is due, nor let secondary causes hide from us the omnipotence of our God!

Peter begged them to hush their clamorous joy, and proceeded to tell them how the Lord had brought him out of prison. No doubt many a one mentally exclaimed, as they heard the wonderful tale, "The Lord looseth the prisoners; the Lord raiseth them that are bowed down. Sing unto the Lord with thanksgiving, sing praise upon the harp unto our God!"

And then Peter left them ;-in all probability, to find a place of greater safety, whilst the storm of persecution raged so fiercely.

The morning dawns, and before one streak of gold gleams on the eastern heaven the rumour is abroad, "Peter, the prisoner, has escaped!" Now we see groups of soldiers, with anxious faces, eagerly conversing together.

The keepers look bewildered. Peter is gone, but

they know nothing whatever of the way in which he effected his escape. Those poor soldiers! Well may they tremble as Herod examines them. Look at the stern countenance of that tyrant king!—The command has gone forth the guards are to be put to death; for Herod, whatever his own convic-tion might be, wished every one to believe that Peter had escaped through the negligence of the soldiers.

H

XII.

HEROD'S VAIN GLORY. HIS DEATH.-ELYMAS THE

SORCERER.-PAUL AND BARNABAS ARE DRIVEN

FROM ICONIUM.

THEY TRAVEL FROM PLACE

TO PLACE. AT ONE TIME PAUL IS ALMOST

IDOLIZED AS A GOD, AND AT ANOTHER TIME STONED. THE APOSTLES RETURN TO ANTIOCH.

HEROD now went down to Cæsarea, to attend the games which he caused to be celebrated there in honour of Claudius Cæsar; and it was at one of those sports that the angel of the Lord smote him for receiving to himself glory due to God alone. Oh, what a shaft it must have been! Life trembles! and, after a severe illness of five days, Herod, the conqueror, the king, dies of a loathsome disease.

Yea, the light of the wicked shall be put out, and the spark of his fire shall not shine.” One glance of an angry God, and wealth, station, talent, all are as nothing. Gold and silver cannot deliver in the day of the wrath of the Lord. What now to him were his gorgeous robes and stately palaces? Did he prize, as he lay in anguish, the honied word or