Who is there that can stand beside the simple stone which marks the birthplace of George Washington, or enter that plain cottage in the slashes of Hanover, or walk the halls of Monticello, and not feel arising in his bosom feelings of pleasure and delight? Such feelings are natural; and I hope, dear reader, you will ever cherish them for the memory of such men as Washington, Jefferson, Clay, and the host of others who have done so much for our common country. If we love to visit the birthplaces and homes of men who have preferred death to bondage, how much greater must be the love with which we look upon the home of him who suffered and bled and died for the liberty of the soul from the powerful bondage of sin and Satan—the home of Saul of Tarsus, the scholar of Gamaliel.
That Tarsus was the birthplace of Saul is not very certain, as no one informs us of the fact; but one thing is certain, it was there he spent the hours of his childhood, there he was taught to reverence God’s Word, and there his tender mind received those impressions of love to God and his fellow-man, which followed him throughout his interesting and eventful life.
Tarsus, at the time of Saul’s residence, was one of the largest cities in Asia Minor. It was beautifully situated on the river Cydnus, in the midst of a most fertile and picturesque valley, and was the capital of Cilicia. On the one side a lofty peak of the Taurus mountains lifted its hoary head, and stood like a sentinel, to watch over and protect the city which lay in such calm quietude at its base; on the other lay the lovely valley of the Cydnus, interspersed with beautiful groves of palm trees and luxuriant gardens, through the midst of which the silver stream wound its way till it was lost in the Mediterranean sea. Over this plain, happy cottages were scattered like stars in the blue canopy of heaven. Above the city, about a mile distant, were the falls of the Cydnus, whose sullen roar added no little to the grandeur of the scenery. Such was the nature of the country in which the youthful Saul spent the days of his childhood and youth. Tarsus, as Saul himself says, was “no mean city.” It was no less remarkable for the beauty of its situation, than as a seat of learning and wide-spread commerce.
There is something about the word Home, which in itself is pleasant. How delightful is it to him upon whose locks have fallen the snows of many winters, and whose brow has been furrowed by the hand of time, to look back to the home and friends of his childhood! Every thing about the old homestead is interesting to him. Here, surrounded by kind friends and dear relatives, he spent the happiest hours of his life. Every spot has some attraction. In one he once was rescued from danger; in another he used to indulge in those sportive games which afford so much pleasure to the young beginner of life’s journey; beside some murmuring stream he often strayed, and stole the nimble trout from its crystal home, or rested his weary limbs beneath the wide-extending branches of the aged oak which overhung the gushing spring.
Such, doubtless, were the feelings with which the great “Apostle of the Gentiles,” when his mind was “burdened with the care of all the churches,” visited his native city. And now how changed! An English writer thus describes the present condition of that once prosperous city: “It is now a Turkish town, greatly decayed, but still of some relative importance, and carrying on a somewhat active commerce. The population is about 6,000.”—However the works of man may have decayed in and around Tarsus, yet the works of God remain almost unaltered.—“The rich harvests of corn still grow luxuriantly after the rains in spring; the same tents of goats’ hair are still seen covering the plain in busy harvest. The same sunset lingers on the pointed summits. The same shadows gather in the deep ravines. The water-falls of the Cydnus still break over the same rocks.”
Who would not like to visit a city once hallowed by the presence of one of the greatest and best of men?
THE WANDERER’S RETURN.
I left my home in childhood,
The beautiful green spot,