That was the belief of the Jews assembled in the court; they were about to hear the awful voice that had spoken to their fathers from Sinai! Slowly--very slowly--the quivering, continuous flow of sound died away. For a brief space there was a weird spell of silence; then came a sudden clangor, startling by contrast with the previous stillness, a clangor like that of hollow brass struck by a giant hand. All eyes turned instantly upon the Corinthian Gate of the Sanctuary. That great gate, whose folding-doors of plated bronze were so ponderous as to require the united strength of twenty men to turn them on their hinges, was now slowly revolving inwards as if yielding to some invisible pressure from without. Wider and wider grew the space between the two doors, till at last they had revolved so far back that they could revolve no farther. The gate had opened apparently of its own accord! And now came an awe-inspiring sequel. From the interior of the Sanctuary issued a solemn voice, crying in the Hebrew tongue: “LET US GO HENCE!”[11] All trembled at the sound; none more than Crispus. “The voice that spoke in my dream!” This moment of supreme and thrilling terror was followed by a sequence of sounds suggestive of the departure of a vast multitude. It seemed as if ten thousand feet were descending the lofty stairs of the Corinthian Gate, and were treading the pavement of the forecourt. Yet neither shape nor shadow met the gaze of the appalled and trembling Jews, who had drawn together in one dense throng as if for protection against--they knew not what! As for Crispus, had he wished to describe his feelings at this awful moment he might have employed the language of the sacred writer: “Fear came upon me and a trembling that made all my bones to shake. Then a spirit passed before my face; it stood still, but I could not discern the form thereof!” For there was a flowing of air past him, as if some long procession were going by; he could detect the sound of rustling garments and of sighing voices; yet had his life depended upon the action, he durst not put forth his hand to test whether the unseen train that was gliding past were palpable to the touch. The sounds passed on, taking their way through the eastern cloister; and, mounting upon the wings of the night, they melted away in the direction of Olivet. Long, long after the mysterious voices had ceased, the Jews, filled with a divine awe, stood speechless and motionless, as if fearful lest their speaking should call forth the wrath of departing deity. Among the group was the famous rabbi, Johanan ben Zacchai. He was the first to find tongue. Pointing to the interior of the Corinthian gateway, with its walls and roof fashioned from the cedar of Libanus, he cried in a solemn tone: “The end of the temple hath come, for this is that which was spoken by the prophet, saying, ‘Open thy doors, O Lebanon, that the fire may devour thy cedars!’”[12]