The Maryville times. (Maryville, Tenn.) 1884-1944, 1889-12-25

own hands. They pour out of the city
gates until the procession reaches to
the village. They come all around
about the house where the stranger Is
stopping, and peer into the doors and
windows that they may get one glimpse
of him or hear the hum Of his voice.
The police dare not make the ar
rest, because he had somehow won
the affections Of all the peo-
pie. o, it is lively night in
yonder Bethany! The heretofore quiet
village is filled with uproar and cutlery,
and loud discussion about the strange
acting countryman. do not think there
was any sleep in that house that night
where the stranger was stopping Al
though he came in weary he finds no
rest, though, for once in his lifetime, he
had pillow. But the morning dawns,
the olive gardens wave in the light, and
all along yonder road, reaching over the
top of Olivet, toward this city, there is
vast swaying crowd of wondering peo-
pie. The excitement around the
door Of the cottage is wild as the stran-
ger steps out beside an unbroken colt
that had never been mounted, and after
his friends had strewn their garments
on the beast for saddle the Saviour
mounts it, and the populace, excited and
shouting and feverish, push on back
toward this city of Jerusalem. Let none
jeer now or scofi at this rider, or the
populace will trample him under foot
in an instant. There is one long
shout of two miles, and as far as the
eye can reach you see wavings OF
demonstrations and approval. There
was something in the riders visage,
something in his majestic brow, some
thing in his princely behavior, that stirs
up the enthusiasm of the people. They
run up against the beast and try to
pull the rider off into their arms and
carry OIL their shoulders the illustrious
stranger. The populace are so excited
that they hardly know what to do with
roadside trees and wrench off branches
and throw them in his way; and others
doff their garments, what though they
be new and costly, and spread them for
a carpet for the cOnqueror to ride over
"Hosanna!" cry the people at the foot Of
the hill. "Hosanna!' cry the people all
up and down the mountain. The pro-
cession has now come to the brow Of
yonder Olivet. Magnificent prospect
reaching out in every direction-vine-
yards, olive groves, iutting rock, silvery
Sloan, and above all, rising on its
throne of hills, this most highly honored
city of all the earth, Jerusalem. Christ
there, in the midst of the procession
looks off and sees here fortressed gates
and yonder the circling wall, and here
the towers blazing in the sun, Phasaelus
and Marianne. Yonder is Hippicus,
the kings castle. Looking along in the
range Of the large branch of that olive
tree, you see the mansions of the mer-
chant princes. Through this cleft in the
limestone rock you see the palace Of the
richests trafficker in all the earth. He
has made his money by selling Tyrian
purple. Behold now the temple! Clouds
of smoke lifting from the shimmering
roof, while the building rises up beauti-
full, grand, majestic, the architectural
skill and glory of the earth lifting
themselves there in one triumphant
doxology, the frozen prayer Of all ma
tions.
The crowd looked around to see exhil-
aration and transport in the face of
Christ. O, no! Out from amid the
gates, and the domes, and the palaces,
there arose vision of this city's sin,
and of this city's doom, which oblitera-
ted the landscape from horizon to hori-
zon, and He burst into tears, crying: 80,
Jerusalem, Jerusalem!" But that was
the only day Of pomp that Jesus saw in
and around the city. Yet He walked
the streets OF this city the loveliest
and most majestic being that the
world ever saw or ever will see. Pub
Illus Lentulus, in letter to the Roman
Senate describes Him as "a man OF
stature, somewhat tall, His hair the
color of chestnut fully ripe, plain to
the ears, whence downward ii is mere
orient, curling and waving about the
shoulders; in the midst Of his forehead
is stream, or partition of his hair
forehead plain and very delicate; his
face without spot or wrinkle, lovely
red; his nose and mouth so forked as
nothing can be represented; his beard
thick, in color like his hair-not very
long; his eyes gray, quick and clear. y
He must die. The French army in Italy
found brass plate on which was copy
of his death warrant, signed by John
Zerubbabel, Raphael Robani, Daniel
Robani, and Capet
Sometimes men on the way to the
scaffold have been rescued by the mob
No such attempt was made in this case,
for the mob were against him. From
in the morning till 8 in the afternoon
Jesus hung a-dying in the outskirts Of
this city. 1t was scene of blood. We
are so constituted that nothing is so ex
citing as blood. 1t is not the child's
cry in the street that so arouses you as
the crimson dripping from its lip. In
the dark hall, seeing the finger marks
of blood on the plastering, you cry
"What terrible deed has been done
here?" Looking upon this suspended
victim of the cross, we thrill with the
sight of blood-blood dripping from
thorn and nail, blood rushing upon hi.
cheek, blood saturating his garments
blood gathered in pool beneath. L
is called an honor to have in ones vein.
the blood of the house Of Stuart, or o
the house of Hapsburg. Is it nothing