ient tombs; one of them is said to be the sepulchre
of Joseph of Arimathea. Of the antiquity of these tombs there cannot be
the slightest doubt; and their being here forms the best argument for
the authenticity of the Holy Sepulchre itself, as it shows that this was
formerly a place of burial, notwithstanding its situation in the centre
of the ancient city, contrary to the almost universal practice of the
ancients, whose sepulchres are always found some short distance from
their cities; indeed, among the Egyptians, whose manners seem to have
been followed in many respects by the Jews, it was a law that no one
should be buried in the cultivated grounds, but their tombs were
excavated in the rocks of the desert, that the agricultural and other
daily pursuits of the living might not interfere with the repose of the
dead. It is mentioned in the Bible that Christ was led _out_ to be
crucified; but it is not quite clear from the passage whether he was led
out of the city of Jerusalem itself, or only from the city of David on
Mount Sion, which appears to have been the citadel and place of
residence of the Roman governor. If so, the site of the Holy Sepulchre
may be the true one; and, in common with all other pilgrims, I am
inclined to hope that the tomb now pointed out may really be the
sepulchre of Christ.

Descending a flight of steps from the body of the church, we entered the
subterranean chapel of St. Helena, below which is another vault, in
which the true cross is said to have been found. A very curious account
of the finding of the cross is to be seen in the black-letter pages of
Caxton's 'Golden Legend,' and it has formed the subject of many
singular traditions and romantic stories in former days. The history of
this famous relic would be tedious were I to narrate it in the obsolete
phraseology of the father of English printing, and I will therefore only
give a short summary of the legend; although, to those who take an
interest in monastic traditions, the accounts given in old books, which
were read by our ancestors before the Reformation with all the sober
seriousness of undoubting faith, afford a curious instance of the
proneness of the human intellect to mistake the shadow for the
substance, and to substitute an unbounded veneration for outward
observances for the more reasonable acts of spiritual devotion.

In the middle ages, while the worship of our Saviour was completely
neglected, the wooden cross upon which