Lately the highway from north to south, which passed the
gates of Jerusalem, had been as a fair of the nations. A host had
journeyed far to amuse the great king or to enjoy his holiday. Gayer
and more given to proud speech than they who came to the festivals of
the Temple, beneath the skull-bone there was yet a more remarkable
unlikeness.
These were mostly the children of Hatred, each heart a lair of wild
passions, each brain teeming with catlike gods. Here were they to be
lifted up by the power of love--the heathen, the debased. What a
gathering of the enemies of God and man! Crowding at the gates were
gladiators from Greece and Rome; Arab chiefs upon camels, with horses
trained for the race; troops of rich men with armed retainers; hunters
bringing wild beasts in cages lashed upon heavy carts; squads of Roman
cavalry; gamblers, peddlers, thieves, bandits, musicians, dancers, and
singers, some walking, some riding horse or camel. Many had travelled
far for one purpose--to behold the great king. Now solemn whispers of
gossip had gone to every side of the city.
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