And then the last word. It was spoken softly, as if from the threshold of the other world, "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit!" Then, as he yielded up the ghost, a look of surpassing peace fell upon his upturned face, which lingered even after death had put its rigid seal upon it. Thus he fell on sleep. I have ofttimes since been reminded of that look when I have seen an infant lulled in its mother's arms, or when, walking through a Christian cemetery, I have noted upon the tombstones of martyrs the word "_Dormit_: He sleeps." The supernatural darkness had now given way to a calm twilight. The sky was covered far toward the zenith with a golden splendor crossed with bars of crimson light. It looked as if heaven's gates were opened; and one gazing through could almost seem to see the flitting of superhuman shapes and hear far-away voices calling, "Lift up your heads, O ye gates; even lift them up, ye everlasting doors, and the King of Glory shall come in!" At that moment the earth rumbled under my feet; a shudder seemed to pass through nature. It was said that as the high priest was kindling the lamps in the Holy Place of the Temple, in connection with the evening sacrifice, the great veil hanging before the Holy of Holies was rent from the top to the bottom as if by an unseen hand. This happened at the instant when the Nazarene yielded up his spirit, and his followers are wont to say that when he passed from earth to resume his heavenly glory a new and living way was opened up for penitent sinners into the Holiest of All. The execution being over, the people slowly dispersed to their homes. Twilight settled down on Golgotha. A group of wailing women lingered for a while, then went their way. Against the sky stood forth the three crosses. On the uplifted face of Dysmas the moonlight showed the look of ineffable peace that had settled upon it. The face of the other robber was fallen upon his breast. In the midst Jesus looked upward, dead but triumphant! Long and steadfastly I gazed upon him. The events of the day crowded fast upon my mind and my conviction deepened that this was no impostor, no fanatic, no common man. My conscience was sore smitten; my heart was inexpressibly touched by the memory of the things which I had seen; and, with scarcely an intention, I said aloud, but softly, "Verily, this was a righteous man." Then I reined my horse and rode down the hill. The lights were kindling in Jerusalem; the beacon on the Castle of Antonia was beginning to glow. At a little distance I drew rein and looked back at Golgotha. His cross was there outlined against the sky. I felt myself in the grip of a mighty passion of doubt and wonder! Who was he? Who was he? I would go back and see!