LIGHTED BY THE HOLY GHOST.

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moments kept up an altercation with the officers, in which I surmised that they were explaining that they were either representatives of the rich Armenian who had bought the first place, or men who had themselves paid for the next places, and so had a right to be there-points which the Turks at last got into their dull heads, and yielded a little, and allowed the persistent devotees to come up closer till they could hug the very walls; and here they stood, clinging to the marble till the fire from heaven should descend.

At length order was in some degree restored, and the crowd pushed back by the soldiers, so as to open a circular space round the Chapel of the Sepulchre, and then entered a series of processions. First came the Greek Patriarch, followed by his clergy in their most gorgeous robes, carrying banners and chanting the litanies. Thus moving with slow step to the sound of their solemn music, they circled three times round the Holy Sepulchre. Next came the Armenians, whose Patriarch outshone his Greek brother in the splendor of his episcopal costume; and then the other Oriental sects-the Copts, the Syrians, and the Abyssinians.

The processions ended, there came the supreme moment, when the Greek Patriarch entered the Holy Sepulchre. All lights were extinguished, and the church was in darkness. Then for the first time there was silence. The whole vast assembly stood breathless, while the Patriarch, having like the High Priest entered into the Holy of Holies, was bowed in prayer. It was a moment of eager expectation. In this deep stillness, out of the darkness suddenly the light appeared. From where I stood, I saw the first faint glimmer within the recess. Long arms had been stretched within the aperture to grasp it, and in an instant it flashed in the eyes of the great assembly, those who seized it first holding it aloft in triumph. Then fol

lowed a scene which defies description. A hundred arms were outstretched to catch the fire, and in an instant it flew from hand to hand, till in a space of time so brief that it seemed almost instantaneous, the whole building was aflame. From below the torches were passed up into the galleries, and were flashed in our faces. The ladies shrunk back lest their dresses should be caught. We all seemed to be in danger. Perhaps we were to be offered up as sacrifices on an altar. As Nero bound the Christians to columns, and smeared them with pitch, and set them on fire to light the Imperial gardens, so we might in the same way obtain the honors of martyrdom; or we might perish, not alone, but with the venerable church itself as a funeral pile for indeed for a few moments I felt a degree of alarm lest the ancient shrine should take fire, as gallery above gallery was in a blaze, while the dome was filled with smoke as with a cloud of incense.

Nor was the illumination confined within the walls. Torches were passed without to the vast crowd waiting in the court. The men whom we had seen round the Holy Sepulchre stripped for the race, were torch-bearers, and now bounded away through the city streets, and out of the gates, speeding over hill and valley to carry the sacred flame to distant hamlets and homes scattered among the hills and valleys of Judea. These torches are precious heirlooms to the pilgrims. After being lighted for a time, they are extinguished, but kept with religious care, to be relighted again only at a bridal or a burial. When the time comes that a service for the dead is to be prepared, they are placed like candles upon the altar, so that those who, having once made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem, now make a longer pilgrimage, may be said to be lighted to the grave by torches first kindled by fire from heaven.

The spectacle was over. We had been in the church

51

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nearly four hours, but it was a long time before the crowd dispersed, so excited were they by this miraculous descent of the Holy Ghost. As I walked slowly away, I was in a sad mood at such a representation of Christianity in the cradle of our religion. Was there ever a more melancholy exhibition of human folly, and folly associated with some of the worst passions of our nature? Fanaticism and superstition go together. One form of madness leads to another, and religious enthusiasm, uncontrolled, lends itself to hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness. It is the same thing the world over, in all ages and all countries. The crowd that filled the theatre at Ephesus, and shouted "Great is Diana of the Ephesians!" was not a whit more frenzied with the fanaticism of superstition, than the Greeks whom I saw in the evening (when I came again before the church was filled, and when there was space to move about), actually running round the Holy Sepulchre like demons, shouting "O Jews! Jews! your feast is a feast of devils or of murderers, but our feast is the feast of Christ!"

As it happened, that same afternoon I went to the Temple area, and the change was very great from the scene I had witnessed to the quiet of this peaceful spot. As we entered the gate, the muezzin was calling the faithful to prayer. All was still, as became a place of worship. In the seclusion of the sheltered enclosure, and the reverent manner of those whose heads were bowed in prayer, there was something far more in harmony with the spirit of devotion than what we had just seen, and I could not but think that for religious worship the Mosque of Omar presented a favorable contrast with the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

The next morning was Easter, and the day was ushered in by the ringing of bells. This indeed was appropriate, that joyful sounds should herald a joyful event. Such public recognition sometimes is very effective, as it was in another

way two days before, when the flags were hung at half mast on Good Friday. From that hour a pall of darkness hung over the world. But now it seemed as if the world began to breathe again, as this morning peal awoke the echoes of the neighboring hills. Listening, I thought how joy answered to joy from one hill-top to another, from city to city, and from land to land; how the peal in Jerusalem was answered by that in Rome; and in every capital and every cathedral, in a thousand temples, were repeated the tidings of joy. In Russia, in Moscow and St. Petersburg, friends meeting in the streets rush into each other's arms, embracing and exclaiming "The Lord is risen!" So does this one event send joy to the ends of the world.

With Easter the religious celebrations came to a close, and immediately the pilgrims began to depart. Passing the Greek Convent, I saw a procession preparing for its homeward march. The next morning the different companies, representing different countries and Churches, were streaming over the hills; while Cook's tourists, piled into waggons, went rattling down the road to Jaffa. The Holy Week was ended.

CHAPTER V.

A SOLITARY WALK FROM GETHSEMANE TO

CALVARY.

If the services of Holy Week were all that Jerusalem had to offer, it would be hardly worth the while to cross the seas on a pilgrimage to the Holy City. As in Rome, so in Jerusalem, the form has killed the spirit, and services designed to recall the most tender scenes in the life of our Divine Master, are made the occasion of theatrical display. Such exhibitions may be entertaining, but they are not edifying; we may have our curiosity excited and gratified, and yet at the same moment we are inexpressibly saddened, at such caricatures of what we hold most sacred. The impression is that of any other dramatic spectacle: there is nothing that sinks into the mind and heart, to remain an assurance forever of the great realities here commemorated -nothing to make one a more believing disciple of Him who lived and died and rose again. Indeed if I were to end here, I should almost be of Mr. Spurgeon's opinion, that it were better to be content with the Life of Christ as we have it in the Gospels, than to try to reproduce it among the hills and valleys of Judea.

And yet it is not to be inferred that there is nothing to