are its chiefest charm, in any eyes, and the spells they weave are feeble

in the searching light of the sun. Then, we scarcely feel the fetters.

Our thoughts wander constantly to the practical concerns of life, and

refuse to dwell upon things that seem vague and unreal. But when the day

is done, even the most unimpressible must yield to the dreamy influences

of this tranquil starlight. The old traditions of the place steal upon

his memory and haunt his reveries, and then his fancy clothes all sights

and sounds with the supernatural. In the lapping of the waves upon the

beach, he hears the dip of ghostly oars; in the secret noises of the

night he hears spirit voices; in the soft sweep of the breeze, the rush

of invisible wings. Phantom ships are on the sea, the dead of twenty

centuries come forth from the tombs, and in the dirges of the night wind

the songs of old forgotten ages find utterance again.

In the starlight, Galilee has no boundaries but the broad compass of the

heavens, and is a theatre meet for great events; meet for the birth of a

religion able to save a world; and meet for the stately Figure appointed

to stand upon its stage and proclaim its high decrees. But in the

sunlight, one says: Is it for the deeds which were done and the words

which were spoken in this little acre of rocks and sand eighteen

centuries gone, that the bells are ringing to-day in the remote islands

of the sea and far and wide over continents that clasp the circumference

of the huge globe?

One can comprehend it only when night has hidden all incongruities and

created a theatre proper for so grand a drama.

582

The Innocents Abroad