and with sieges.  It speaks to him of Baldwin, and Tancred, the princely Saladin, and great Richard of the Lion Heart.  It was with just such blades as these that these splendid heroes of romance used to segregate a man, so to speak, and leave the half of him to fall one way and the other half the other.  This very sword has cloven hundreds of Saracen Knights from crown to chin in those old times when Godfrey wielded it.  It was enchanted, then, by a genius that was under the command of King Solomon.  When danger approached its master’s tent it always struck the shield and clanged out a fierce alarm upon the startled ear of night.  In times of doubt, or in fog or darkness, if it were drawn from its sheath it would point instantly toward the foe, and thus reveal the way—­and it would also attempt to start after them of its own accord.  A Christian could not be so disguised that it would not know him and refuse to hurt him—­nor a Moslem so disguised that it would not leap from its scabbard and take his life.  These statements are all well authenticated in many legends that are among the most trustworthy legends the good old Catholic monks preserve.  I can never forget old Godfrey’s sword, now.  I tried it on a Moslem, and clove him in twain like a doughnut.  The spirit of Grimes was upon me, and if I had had a graveyard I would have destroyed all the infidels in Jerusalem.  I wiped the blood off the old sword and handed it back to the priest—­I did not want the fresh gore to obliterate those sacred spots that crimsoned its brightness one day six hundred years ago and thus gave Godfrey warning that before the sun went down his journey of life would end.

Still moving through the gloom of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre we came to a small chapel, hewn out of the rock—­a place which has been known as “The Prison of Our Lord” for many centuries.  Tradition says that here the Saviour was confined just previously to the crucifixion.  Under an altar by the door was a pair of stone stocks for human legs.  These things are called the “Bonds of Christ,” and the use they were once put to has given them the name they now bear.

The Greek Chapel is the most roomy, the richest and the showiest chapel in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.  Its altar, like that of all the Greek churches, is a lofty screen that extends clear across the chapel, and is gorgeous with gilding and pictures.  The numerous lamps that hang before it are of gold and silver, and cost great sums.

But the feature of the place is a short column that rises from the middle of the marble pavement of the chapel, and marks the exact centre of the earth.  The most reliable traditions tell us that this was known to be the earth’s centre, ages ago, and that when Christ was upon earth he set all doubts upon the subject at rest forever, by stating with his own lips that the tradition was correct.  Remember, He said that that particular column stood upon the