With his soldier's cloak about him, in protection against the
winter's chill, Quintus is away to Jerusalem. The national Feast
of Dedication attracts his notice. A courteous Hebrew explains to
him that the joyful festival commemorates the cleansing of the
Temple after its profanation by Antiochus Epiphanes, two hundred
years before. The procession of pious Jews, carrying their palm
branches and marching to the heights of Moriah, the chanting of the
great Hallel within the imposing fane, the ascription of praise to
Jehovah all impress the keen-eyed soldier.

The enthusiasm of it all! Though of other blood, Quintus clearly
feels the thrill of patriotism that stirs the multitude about him;
and he understands in some measure their impatient waiting for the
coming prince who shall deliver Israel.


But is this all? Instead it is only the beginning of the wonders
which the serious Quintus is to witness. Forth he passes to the
eastern cloister of the Temple, known then among the Jews as
Solomon's Porch, in memory of their illustrious king. The
bystanders tell Quintus that it is built of a fragment of the first
Temple which Nebuchadnezzar had left standing. As the soldier
looks down the far-reaching aisle, he sees a quadruple row of white
Corinthian columns, one hundred and sixty in number, and extending
a length of many hundred feet. The vista is most amazing.
Accustomed though he has been all his days to the magnificence of
the Roman architecture, he yields in willing admiration to the
splendors of the Solomonic porch.

Then--he sees the Christ! Walking through that forest of massive