e soldiers may have lent a hand in disentangling the body.

It was in a new sepulchre, which Joseph had had hewn out of the rock
for himself, in order that after death he might lie in the sacred
shadow of the city of God, that the Lord was laid. No corpse had ever
been placed in it before. This was a great gift to give to an
excommunicated and crucified man; and it was a most appropriate one;
for it was meet that the pure and stainless One, who had come to make
all things new and, though dead, was not to see corruption, should rest
in an undefiled sepulchre. Similarly appropriate and suggestive was
the new linen cloth, which Joseph bought expressly for the purpose of
enwinding the body. Nor was Nicodemus behind in affection and
sacrifice. He brought "a mixture of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred
pound weight." This may appear an enormous quantity, but custom was
very lavish in such gifts; at the funeral of Herod the Great, for
example, the spices were carried by five hundred bearers.

The tomb was in a garden--another touch of appropriateness and beauty.
The spot does not seem to have been far from the place of execution;
but whether it was as near as it is represented to have been in the
traditional site may well be doubted. The Church of the Holy Sepulchre
includes within its precincts both the Lord's tomb and the hole in the
rock in which stood His cross; and the two are only thirty yards
apart.[3] But it is highly questionable whether the identification of
either is possible. Still, this may be said to be the most famous bit
of the entire surface of the globe. Christendom accepted the
tradition, which dates from the time of Constantine, and since then
pilgrims have flocked to the spot from every land. It was for the
possession of this shrine that the Crusades were undertaken, and at the
present day the Churches of Christendom fight for a footing in it.

We may have no sympathy with the practice of pilgrimages and little
interest in the identification of holy places; but the holy sepulchre
cannot but attract the believing heart. It was a practice of the piety
of former days to meditate among the tombs. The piety of the present
day inclines to more cheerful and, let us hope, not less healthy
exercises. But every man with any depth of nature must linger
sometimes beside the graves of his loved ones; every man of any
seriousness must think sometimes of his own grave. And in such moments
what can be so