Yet who should lead the people? Jochanan, the only man whom of recent times the people followed gladly, had been done to death by Herod. One man alone since his death had won the people’s heart, to wit, Jesus the cousin of Jochanan. He, and he alone, could lead the people against the Romans, and all men wondered if he would. In the midst of their wonder came news that Jesus the Nazarene was coming up to the Holy City for the Feast of Passover, the feast of redemption from Egypt. Would it prove this year a feast of redemption from the Romans? All hope of this depended upon this Jesus. It was twenty‐one years ago, but I can remember as if it were yesterday the excitement in Jerusalem when the news came that Jesus of Nazareth had arrived in the neighborhood, and was spending his Sabbath at the village of Bethany. All those who were disaffected against the Romans cried out, “A leader! a leader!” All those who were halt, sick, or blind, cried out, “A healer! a healer!” Wherever we went, there was no talk but of the coming deliverance. As I approached one group of men I heard them say, “When will it be? When will he give the sign? Will it be before or after the feast?” “Nay,” said one of the crowd, a burly blacksmith he, “what day for the deliverance but the Passover day? But be it when it may, let him give the sign, and I shall be ready.” “And prove a new Maccabee,” said one in the crowd, referring to his hammer, whereat a grim laugh arose. The next day being the first of the week, which the Romans call the Day of the Sun, I was pondering the words of the Law in my little study chamber near the roof of my father’s house in the Street of the Bakers near Herod’s Palace, which at that time was inhabited by the Procurator, when suddenly I heard the patter of many feet in the street beneath me, and looking out, I saw them all hurrying, as it seemed, to the Temple. I put on my sandals, and taking my staff in my hand and drawing my mantle over my head, hurried out after the passers‐by. But when they came to the Broad Place before the Water Gate, they turned sharp to the right, and went down the Tyropœon as far as the Fountain Gate, where I overtook them. There I found all the most turbulent of the city population. Some of the men I knew had been engaged in the recent riot under Jesus Bar Abbas. Others were the leading Zealots in Jerusalem, and all were men eager for the freeing of the city from the Romans. And among them, too, were others who cared not for freedom, nor hated the Romans, but would only be too pleased if the city were given up to disorder and rapine. While these waited there, we heard cries from behind us, and looking back, saw filing out from the Temple courts on to the Xystus Bridge, and down into the Tyropœon, the brigade of beggars who pass almost their whole life in the Court of the Gentiles. These came down slowly, for among them were many halt and some blind, and all were old and feeble of limb. “Why come they