If a yell could have brought down the walls of the Sanctuary they would most assuredly have fallen at that moment before the terrific yell of concentrated hatred and fury that burst from the Romans, when they beheld the destruction of what was to them not merely a patriotic emblem but a darling object of worship, a worship far more real and fervent than they ever paid to Jove or Mars! Simon’s studied affront goaded Titus to a course from which he had hitherto refrained. “_Fire the gates!_” he cried. To this command the legionaries responded with a huge roar of delight. Vast quantities of timber were quickly brought and piled high against the metal-plated doors of the nine gateways. Of these, the most splendid was the one facing the east, and known as the Corinthian Gate, for, whereas, the other doors were crusted all over with gold and silver, the eastern door was a marvel of richly chased Corinthian bronze. It was Alexander, the wealthy Alabarch of Alexandria, who had adorned the gate in this fashion; and, by a singular turn of destiny, it was his apostate son Tiberius who wrought its destruction--a deed surprising to the Romans themselves, who could not but regard it as an act of filial impiety. With buckler held over his head to protect himself from the arrows that came whizzing obliquely from above, the ex-procurator of Judæa ascended the stately flight of fifteen stairs, and, with his own hand, applied a lighted torch to the pile of timber. Nine huge fires were now smoking, and crackling, and flaming, and roaring, at the nine gates of the temple. As the metallic platings became red-hot the fire, carried to the woodwork behind, began to consume the entire gate. The sight produced a strange and stupefying effect upon the Jews, who had never thought such an event to be possible; at one stroke their courage seemed to vanish; they made no attempt to quench the flames, but stood mute spectators of the scene. It was Titus himself, who, not wishing the conflagration to extend too far, gave orders to fling water upon the burning gates; and when this had been done, the besieged realized that their defense was all but at an end; the charred timber of the doors would yield at the first stroke of the battering-ram, and the enemy would enter by nine different ways. “The day is far spent and the soldiers are faint,” said Titus. “We will defer our final attack till the morrow.” With a view of cutting off the retreat of Simon and John, who might seek during the night to make their escape to Mount Zion, Titus caused a great part of his army to camp round about in the cloisters of the Court of the Gentiles. Leaving Crispus and Rufus in charge of these forces Titus retired to Antonia, or rather to a corner of it that had been spared in the general demolition in order to furnish a lodging for himself and his chief officers.