the Christian socialist with nearly all his favourite texts.  Above all, he is a Greek man of letters, dominated by the conventions of Greek historical composition.  For the Greek, history was a work of art, written for edification, and not merely a bald record of facts.  The Greek historian invented speeches for his principal characters; this was a conventional way of elucidating the situation for the benefit of his readers.  Everyone knows how Thucydides, the most conscientious historian in antiquity, habitually uses this device, and how candidly he explains his method.  We can hardly doubt that the author of Acts has used a similar freedom, though the report of the address to the elders of Ephesus reads like a summary of an actual speech.  The narrative is coloured in places by the historian’s love for the miraculous.  Critics have also suspected an eirenical purpose in his treatment of the relations between St. Paul and the Jerusalem Church.

Saul of Tarsus was a Benjamite of pure Israelite descent, but also a Roman citizen by birth.  His famous old Jewish name was Latinised or Graecised as Paulos (Sahylost means ‘waddling,’ and would have been a ridiculous name); he doubtless bore both names from boyhood.  Tarsus is situated in the plain of Cilicia, and is now about ten miles from the sea.  It is backed by a range of hills, on which the wealthier residents had villas, while the high glens of Taurus, nine or ten miles further inland, provided a summer residence for those who could afford it, and a fortified acropolis in time of war.  The town on the plain must have been almost intolerable in the fierce Anatolian summer-heat.  The harbour was a lake formed by the Cydnus, five or six miles below Tarsus; but light ships could sail up the river into the heart of the city.  Thus Tarsus had the advantages of a maritime town, though far enough from the sea to be safe from pirates.  The famous pass called the ‘Cilician Gates’ was traversed by a high-road through the gorge into Cappadocia.  Ionian colonists came to Tarsus in very early times; and Ramsay is confident that Tarshish, ‘the son of Javan,’ in Gen. x. 4, is none other than Tarsus.  The Greek settlers, of course, mixed with the natives, and the Oriental element gradually swamped the Hellenic.  The coins of Tarsus show Greek figures and Aramaic lettering.  The principal deity was Baal-Tarz, whose effigy appears on most of the coins.  Under the successors of Alexander, Greek influence revived, but the administration continued to be of the Oriental type; and Tarsus never became a Greek city, until in the first half of the second century B.C. it proclaimed its own autonomy, and renamed itself Antioch-on-Cydnus.  Great privileges were granted it by Antiochus Epiphanes, and it rapidly grew in wealth and importance.  Besides the Greeks, there was a large colony of Jews, who always established themselves on the highways of the world’s commerce.  Since St. Paul was a ‘citizen’ of Tarsus, i.e. a member of one of the ‘Tribes’ into which the citizens were divided, it is probable (so Ramsay argues) that there was a large ‘Tribe’ of Jews at Tarsus; for no Jew would have been admitted into, or would have consented to join, a Greek Tribe, with its pagan cult.