THE PLACE OF CRUCIFIXION. 59 We do not need to spot where he fainted under his cross. be thus precise. It is enough that we walk the Via Dolorosa in company with our Divine Master. What disciple can follow, even at this distance of time, a way filled with such memories, without saying to himself: "Must Jesus bear the cross alone, And all the world go free ? No; there's a cross for every one, And there's a cross for me." And so following in all the way the Master trod in weariness and pain, we come at last to the site which tradition has fixed upon as Golgotha-the Place of a Skull. The place of crucifixion, like the place of burial, is included within the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, though it is at the other end of the church, in a recess, or chapel, by itself. As Golgotha is supposed to have been a rocky mound, which looked down on the garden at its foot, in which was the new sepulchre, the Chapel of the Crucifixion is at an elevation above the pavement, in a gallery, which is reached by a stair. I ascended the steps of stone, and at once saw by the altar at the end of the gallery, covered with votive offerings of gold and silver, which glistened in the light of the lamps suspended over it, that I was at the foot of Calvary. It is a sombre place, with a kind of sepulchral gloom, which the lights hung from the ceiling cannot dispel, as if the darkness of Death still lingered where the Lord expired. But Calvary is the centre which attracts all worshippers. As it was an interval in the services, the crowd had ebbed away; only a few remained, who were held not so much by curiosity as by devotion. These were chiefly pilgrims of the humblest class. A woman whose countenance bore traces of a life of suffering, crept to the altar, and bowing, almost prostrating herself, kissed the spot where the cross stood. I have always observed that 60 AT THE FOOT OF CALVARY. those who come oftenest and linger longest, in such a place of silence and meditation, are the poor in this world who are rich in faith, to whom life is a burden heavy to be borne, and to whom Religion is the only consolation. Those to whom mere subsistence is a constant anxiety, find comfort in looking up to him who had not where to lay his head. The aged and infirm come to one who, however strong, does not repel their weakness. Those who can scarcely creep to the altar find support in looking to him who bore our griefs and carried our sicknesses. He who comes for the last time, whom death has marked for its own, finds strength in the sight of his dying Lord. Even the consciousness of sin does not keep away those who come in penitence and confession to cast the load that weighs heavy on the conscience, on him who bore our sins in his own body on the tree. Thus do all the types of human infirmity-Poverty, and Sickness, and hoary Age; those who are broken with years and with sorrows; kneel together at the feet of him who is at once the Great Sufferer and the Great Consoler. A spectacle so touching draws the coldest heart into sympathy, and I could not look on unmoved. Whatever question I might have had as to the identity of the spot, I was in no mood to raise that question now. Here were men and women on bended knees, in the full exercise of faith and devotion; and though I might not accept all that they believed, yet recognizing the same great event, I bowed my head, and in silent prayer joined with the worshippers. And thus came into my heart a great peace. Looking back, I saw sixty years rolling away behind me, and felt no regret at their departure. They were gone; let them go! At the foot of the cross one learns to judge more justly of life. Things that once seemed great look very small. How petty are our ambitions, our triumphs and our suc AT THE FOOT OF CALVARY. 61 cesses! Even our trials, which we love to magnify to exalt our courage and endurance, sink into nothing in the presence of our Saviour's agony. And so, at the foot of the cross, we gain strength to do and to suffer, to live and to die. Looking up into the face of Jesus Christ, we are answered by a look of infinite tenderness and compassion, which gives us a sense of protection and of safety. We are sure that "He who loved his own will love them unto the end." In all the rough way of life may He be with us! On this day of sober memories and anticipations, this is my prayer : Abide with me! Fast falls the eventide; The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide! Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day; O thou who changest not, abide with me! Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes; Shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies; CHAPTER VI. AT THE CROSS AND THE SEPULCHRE. To come fully under the shadow of the cross, one visit to Calvary is not enough. I came and came again, and with each return to the sacred spot, the scene grew more real, and the moral effect grew deeper. Never can I forget my last visit the evening before I left Jerusalem. The Holy Week was ended, and the pilgrims had turned their faces towards home. Of course some still lingered, reluctant to depart; but so few in comparison that one could walk the streets without being jostled by men wearing strange garbs and speaking strange tongues, and could visit the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and walk about undisturbed. It was nearly twilight when I descended into the court and passed under the old archway for the last time. What a contrast to the trampling crowds of the last week! The great church was empty. The stillness was almost painful; and when, after awhile, there rose from a side chapel a vesper hymn-so soft and gentle was it, that like a distant echo, it seemed to add to the sense of silence that was otherwise unbroken. Thus all combined to produce the feeling of loneliness with which I ascended the stair, and came once more to the foot of Calvary. IS THIS THE VERY SPOT ? 63 And is this the spot where my Saviour died? How can I tell what others, far wiser and more learned, have tried in vain to determine? Tradition affirms it, and even points to the holes in the rock in which the three crosses stood. If there were nothing but tradition to rest upon, that alone would invest it with a sacred interest. Here, where generations have knelt in adoration of their expiring Lord, his death is more real and more present than on any other spot of earth. But there is at least a reasonable presumption that the tradition is founded on reality. Underneath the pavement is a rock which answers to the Mount of Crucifixion. Indeed one may reach down through an opening in the marble floor, and thrust his hand into a fissure which is said to have been caused by the earthquake, when "the rocks were rent and the graves were opened." None can deny that this may be the spot. It is at least possible that the disciples in the first centuries kept the secret of the place, concealing it until it was safe to mark it by an altar of worship. If this be so, then am I at this moment at the foot of the true Calvary, standing where Mary stood-"Now there stood by the cross Mary the mother of Jesus." Of the Roman soldiers, it is said, "And sitting down, they watched him there." We too may watch, silent and observant of that closing scene. To those who stood by the cross, the first impression must have been that of intense physical suffering. Crucifixion is one of the most painful forms of death which the cruelty of man has been able to devise. It is not instantaneous, but long and lingering, the sufferer sometimes hanging for hours, with cords and nerves torn by the nails, before death comes to his relief. Nor had our Master any of the alleviations which in some cases make the suffering less intense. In an old man, whose frame has long been breaking, age that weakens the power of |