All roads led to Rome. Along this highway like beads on a string were the cities of the Ancient World—Jerusalem, the Holy City, at the foot of the right hand side; Damascus, the oldest city of man, halfway up; Antioch, at the angle turning westward, the playground and halfway house, where merchant princes and conquering emperors paused in their far journeyings from Asia to Europe to take their pleasure and spend their fortunes, whether of plunder or traffic; then along the horizontal line leading from desert to sea, Iconium and Philadelphia and Sardis; then on the sea—Ephesus, whence one could sail to Athens or Rome, to culture or power. [Illustration: MAP OF THE ROMAN ROAD] When the summer sea lay in painted crystal, calm as glass, one could come down from any of these cities, to fair harbors and take passage forward on the great grain ships of Egypt or on little sailing vessels; but when the equinoctial storms came in September, or when war filled the great grain ships with troops, travelers were forced to follow the caravan route, and the khans of all the cities were thronged with men of every color and race under the sun. The poor camped in goatskin tents outside the walls. They had nothing to lose from plunder. The rich crowded the city plazas and inns and public khans in the throngs of a great annual fair; and the merchants reaped their harvest in barter of little silver images and amulets to protect from travelers’ perils, and in the sports of theater and hippodrome, where the latest plays from Athens and Rome were given; or lecturers from the Far East disputed their mystic philosophies with the keen wits of Athens and the cynics of Rome; or gladiators fought; or captives in war were thrown to the wild beasts with a chance for life and freedom if they could vanquish tooth and claw with naked hands. We sometimes bewail our modern civilization. Go read of the nightly entertainments in these cities of the Great Roman Road! * * * * * It was the evening of September 24, in Iconium. Lystra and Derbe lay only a few hours south, and there, by the curious trick Fate has of interweaving lives, was the little Phyrygian lad, Onesimus, with his father’s Damascus caravans, beating southward for Damascus where he was first captured by the robber bands of Galilee and began his life of slavery, which took him first to Cæsarea, then to Rome, then seven years later, back over this very road where he rescued victims from crime as he had been rescued by Paul in Rome.