ng to happen. The tinkle of golden bells
told that the High Priest himself approached, and every eye was turned
to look upon him. Imperious in the splendor of his exalted office he
made his way. His robe of blue and purple and scarlet, his gorgeous
colored coat, his purple mitre and above all the sacred breast-plate
sparkling with its twelve emblematic jewels as it hung in place on blue
cords through gold rings, were in strong contrast to the plain and worn
garment of the man who waited under the high arch of the Beautiful Gate
with arms folded across his breast. An intense stillness fell over the
gathering--such a hush as marked the circus arena in Rome when
gladiatorial combatants came together in the death-struggle. As Annas,
the All-Powerful head of God's elect priesthood, neared the end of the
open path cut through the throng, the Galilean lifted his eyes from the
surrounding scene and entered into some high place of communion. The
flush of anger left his face. The calm of the Eternal took its place,
and the High Priest with his Roman spearmen lined behind him stood
without recognition for a moment. When the Galilean turned his eyes on
Annas he looked down as if from some vast height.

The lips of the High Priest moved, but something in the majestic mien
and unfathomable eye of the one before him stopped the words
half-formed. A second and third time his tongue raised itself to shape
words, but the silent one before him gave unuttered command for
silence. The conflict was on. Not a conflict of gleaming blades; not
a conflict of cunning, neither of Senatorial oratory, nor contention of
the wise gone mad. In the arena of the occult was the conflict on
between such forces as move constellations and give birth to worlds.
And the one force was white and the one was black. The one was the
will of God leading by way of man's reason to Liberty and Life. The
other was perversion leading by way of servile obedience to Bondage and
Death. The one was Reality; the other but the Passing Show. So
intense was the conflict of these unseen forces that it drew the
multitude into its silent circle and held it spellbound. On the face
of Annas alone was the progress of the fierce and deadly conflict
written in terms of such hatred as made him appear almost inhuman. Yet
the destructive force of the terrible vibration he sent out touched not
the poise and calm of the Galilean, but after the law of like force it
followed