but divinely beautiful. Whether this be true or not I cannot say.

As the multitude surged onward toward the Jaffa gate, a cobbler named Ahasuerus, as if moved by a malignant spirit, thrust his foot before the prisoner, who stumbled thereat and fell. In punishment for that cruel deed he is said to be still a wanderer upon the earth with no rest for his weary feet. This, too, is a mere legend; but certainly I have found, even in the grim business of a soldier, that retribution like a fury pursues all pitiless men.

We passed through the Jaffa gate and entered upon the steep road leading to the place of execution. The sun flamed down upon us; we were enveloped in a cloud of dust. The prisoner at length, overborne by his cross, fell beneath it. We seized upon an Ethiopian who chanced to be in the throng and placed the burden upon him. Strange to tell, he assumed it without a murmur; insomuch that by many he was suspected of being a secret follower of Jesus.

As we surged on with din and uproar a group of women standing by the wayside rent the air with shrill lamentations, on hearing which Jesus said, "Daughters of Jerusalem, weep not for me, but for yourselves and your children; for behold the days come when they shall say to the mountains, Fall on us! and to the hills, Cover us!" It was a weird prophecy, and ere a generation passed it was to the letter fulfilled. There were those in that company who lived to see the Holy City compassed about by a forest of hostile spears. Its inhabitants were brought low by famine and pestilence, insomuch that the eyes of mothers rested hungrily on the white flesh of their own children. On the surrounding heights crosses were reared, on which hundreds of Jewish captives died the shameful death. Despair fell upon all. And in those days there were not a few who called to mind the ominous words of the Nazarene, "Weep not for me, but for yourselves and for your children after you!"

The road we journeyed has since been known as Via Dolorosa. It led to the round knoll called Golgotha, from its resemblance to a skull. As we drew nigh we perceived two crosses, already reared, on which two thieves of Barabbas' band had been suspended in agony for some hours. Their twisted bodies stood out grimly against the sky. Our prisoner, as an added mark of obloquy, was to be crucified between them.

Our spears and standards were lowered, and Jesus, being stripped of his outer garments, was laid prostrate upon his cross. A soldier approached with hammer and spikes, at sight of whom the frenzied multitude ceased their revilings for the moment and pressed near. The prisoner preserved his calm demeanor. A stupefying draught was offered him; but he refused it, apparently preferring to look death calmly in the face. He stretched out his hands; the hammer fell.

At the sight of blood the mob broke forth again, crying, "Staurosate!" But not a word escaped the sufferer. As the nails tore through the quivering flesh his eyes closed and his lips moved as if he were holding communion with some invisible One. Then with a great wrench the cross was lifted into the socket prepared for it.

At this moment the first word escaped him. With a look of reproach and an appealing glance to heaven, he cried, "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do!" It was as if he were covering our heads with a shield of prayer. In this he did but practise his own rule of charity and doctrine of forgiveness, "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them that despitefully use you."

His prayer, however, seemed but to rouse anew the fury of his enemies. They cried out in mockery, "Come down! come down from thy cross. Thou that boastest of destroying the Temple and rebuilding it in three days, save thyself!" The priests and rabbis, standing by, joined in the mockery, saying, "Aha, he saved others, himself he cannot save! Let him come down if he be the Messiah, the chosen of God!" My soldiers meanwhile disputed as to the apportionment of