peror stamped his image into the silver
coin. The Prince wrought his initial into the palace porch. The
peasant moulded his name into the bricks of his cottage. One form of
property was slaves. Athens had 80,000 free citizens and 400,000
bondmen. As these slaves were liable to run away, their owners branded
them. Sometimes a circle was burned into the palm, or a cross upon the
forehead; and often the owner's name was tattooed upon the slave's
shoulder. One of the gifts of antiquity to our modern life is the use
of the trademark. To-day manufacturers blow their initials in the
glass; they mould the trademark in steel, and weave it in tapestries.

Lying in his dungeon, everything reminded Paul of these marks of
ownership. His chains bore the Emperor's initials. The slaves that
brought him food carried Nero's brand. The very bricks of his dungeon
floor were stamped with the tyrant's name. But, moving out from these
marks of servitude, his vision swept a wider horizon. He, too, was
property. A freeman, indeed, was he, yet he was not his own. Mind and
heart were stamped with God's image and superscription. No hot iron
had mutilated him, but trouble had wrought refinement, and love divine
had left its indelible stamp. Gone indeed the fresh, bright beauty
that was his when he sat a boy at Gamaliel's feet! Since the day when
the mob in Lystra had lifted stones upon him; since the time of his
scourging at Philippi, he had carried the marks of martyrdom.
Suffering had plowed deep furrows in his face. But honorable were all
his scars. They bore witness to his conquest over ease and
self-indulgence. Dear to him these marks--they bound him to his
Master, the Lord Jesus. They filled him with high hopes, for the same
marks that made him a bond slave to God and immortality freed him from
earth and earthly things. Musing, in kingly mood, the scarred hero
exclaimed: "Let not hunger nor cold, let not the scourge nor the
tyrant's threat trouble me, for I bear about in my body the marks of
the Lord Jesus."

Now, God hath ordained that, like Paul's, every human body shall
register personal history, publishing a man's deeds, and proclaiming
his allegiance to good or evil. The human face and form are clothed
with dignity in that the fleshly pages of to-day show forth the soul's
deeds of yesterday. Experience teaches us that occupation affects the
body. Calloused hands betray the artisan. The grimy face proclaims the
collier. He whose garment