Still moving through the gloom of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre we came to a small chapel．hewn out of the roc k——a place which has been known as“The Prison of 0ur Lord”for many centuries．Tradition says that here the Saviour was confined just previously to the crucifixion．Under an altar by the door was a pair of stone stocks for human legs．These things are called the“Bonds of Christ，”and the use they were once put to has given them the name they nOW bear．
The Greek Chapel iS the most roomy，the richest and the showiest chapelin the Church of the Holy Sepulchre．Its altar，like that of a11 the Greek churches．iS a lofty screen that extends clear across the chapel，and is gorgeous with gilding and pictures．The numerous lamps that hang before it are of gold and silver，and cost great sums．
But the feature of the place is a short column that rises from the middle of the marble pavement of the chapel，and marks the exact centre of the earth．The most reliable traditions tell US that this was known tO be the earth’S centre，ages ago，and that when Christ was upon earth he set all doubts upon the subject at rest forever，by stating with his own lips that the tradition was correct．Remember，He said that particular column stood upon the centre of the world．If the centre of the world changes，the column changes its position accordingly．This column has moved three different times，of its own accord．This is because，in great convulsions of nature，at three different times，masses of the earth—wh01e ranges of mountains，probably--have flown off into space，thus lessening the diameter of the earth，and changing the exact locality of its centre by a point or two．This is a very curious and interesting circumstance，and is a withering rebuke to those philosophers who would make US believe that it is not possible for any portion of the earth to fly off into space．
To satisfy himself that this spot was really the centre of the earth，a sceptic once paid well for the privilege of ascending to the dome of the church to see if the sun gave him a shadow at noon．He came down perfectly convinced．The day was very cloudy and the sun threw no shadows at all；but the man was satisfied that if the sun had come out and made shadows it could not have made any for him．Proofs like these are not to be set aside by the idle tongues of cavilers．To such as are not。bigoted，and are willing to be convinced，they carry a conviction that nothing can ever shake。
If even greater proofs than those I have mentioned are wanted，to satisfy the headstrong and the foolish that this is the genuine centre of the earth，they are here．The greatest of them lies in the fact that from under this very column was taken the dust from which Adam was made．This can surely be regarded in the light of a settler．It is not likely that theoriginal first man would have been made from an inferior quality of earthwhen it was entirely convenient to get first quality from the world’Scentre．This will strike any reflecting mind forcibly．That Adam wasformed of dirt procured in this very spot is amply proven by the fact thatin six thousand years no man has ever been able to prove that the dirt wasnot procured here where of he was made． It is a singular circumstance that fight under the roof of this samegreat church，and not far away from that illustrious column，Adamhimself，the father of the human race，lies buried．There is no questionthat he is actually buried in the grave which is pointed out as his—_therecan be none--because it has never yet been proven that that grave is notthe grave in which he is buried． The tomb of Adam!How touching it was，here in a land of strangers，far away from home，and friends，and all who cared for me，thus tO discover the grave of a blood relation．True，a distant one，but still a relation．The unerring instinct of nature thrilled its recognition．Thefountain of my filial affection was stirred to its profoundest depths，andI gave way to tumultuous emotion．I leaned upon a pillar and burst intotears．I deem it no shame tO have wept over the grave of my poor dead relative．Let him who would sneer at my emotion close this volume here，for he will find little tO his taste in my journeyings through Holy Land．Noble old man——he did not live to see me——he did not 1ive to see his child．And I—I—alas．I did not live to see him．Weighed down by sorrow and disappointment．he died before 1 was born-six thousand brief summers before 1 was born．But let US try to bear it with fortitude．Let UStrust that he is better off,where he is．Let US take comfort in the thoughtthat his loss is our eternal gain．
The next place the guide took US to in the holy church was an altar dedicated to the Roman soldier who was of the military guard that
attended at the crucifixion to keep order，and who--when the vail of the
Temple was rent in the awful darkness that followed；when the rock of
Golgotha was split asunder by an earthquake；when the artillery of heaven
thundered，and in the baleful glare of the lightnings the shrouded dead
flitted about the streets of Jerusalem--shook with fear and said．“Surely
this was the Son of God!”Where this altar stands now．that Roman
soldier stood then．in full view of the crucified SaviOur—in full sight
and hearing of all the marvels that were transpiring far and wide about
the circumference of the Hill of Calvary．And in this self-same spot the
priests of the Temple beheaded him for those blasphemous words he had
spoken．
