their voices was faint and far away, less loud than the
twittering of the thousands of swallows that soared and circled, with
glistening of innumerable blue-black wings and soft sheen of white
breasts, in the tender light of sunset above the facade of the gray
old church.

Westward the long ridge of Olivet was bathed in the rays of the
declining sun.

Northward, beyond the city-gate, the light fell softly on a little rocky
hill, shaped like a skull, the ancient place of stoning for those whom
the cruel city had despised and rejected and cast out. At the foot of
that eminence there is a quiet garden and a tomb hewn in the rock.
Rosemary and rue grow there, roses and lilies; birds sing among the
trees. Is not that little rounded hill, still touched with the free
light of heaven, still commanding a clear outlook over the city to the
Mount of Olives--is not that the true Golgotha, where Christ was lifted
up?

As we were thinking of this we saw a man come out on the roof of the
Greek "Centre of the World," and climb by a ladder up the side of the
huge dome. He went slowly and carefully, yet with confidence, as if the
task were familiar. He carried a lantern in one hand. He was going to
the top of the dome to light up the great cross for the night. We spoke
no word, but each knew the thought that was in the other's heart.

Wherever the crucifixion took place, it was surely in the open air,
beneath the wide sky, and the cross that stood on Golgotha has become
the light at the centre of the world's night.

_A PSALM OF THE UNSEEN ALTAR_

_Man the maker of cities is also a builder of altars:
Among his habitations he setteth tables for his god._

_He bringeth the beauty of the rocks to enrich them:
Marble and alabaster, porphyry, jasper and jade._

_He cometh with costly gifts to offer an oblation:
He would buy favour with the fairest of his flock._

_Around the many altars I hear strange music arising:
Loud lamentations and shouting and singing and sighs._

_I perceive also the pain and terror of their sacrifices:
I see the white marble wet with tears and with blood._

_Then I said, These are the altars of ignorance:
Yet they are built by thy children, O God, who know thee not._

_Surely thou wilt have pity upon them and lead them:
Hast thou not prepared for them a table of peace?_

_Then the Lord mercifully sent his angel forth to lead me:
He led me through the temples, the holy place that is hidden._

_Lo,