Jesus smiled forgiveness upon him so sweetly that the stern Roman's eyes filled with tears, and he placed his gauntleted hand to his face to conceal his emotion.
But, my dear father, I can go on no longer now with my sad narrative. I am weary weeping at the recollections it calls before me, and at our present affliction. In my next I will complete my account of the unhappy crucifixion of the Prophet of Nazareth.
Your affectionate daughter,
Adina.
[LETTER XXXV.]
Jerusalem—Third Morning after the Crucifixion.
My Dear Father:
As I resume my pen by the faint light of the dawn, to continue the particulars of the crucifixion of the unhappy son of Mary, who, widowed and childless, still remains with us, mourning over her dead son, my heart involuntarily shrinks from the painful subject and bleeds afresh. But there is a fascination associated with all that concerns him, even now that he is dead and has proved himself as weak a mortal as other men, which urges me to write of him and which fills my thoughts only with him.
I have just alluded to his grief-smitten mother. Alas, there is no consolation for her! Her loss is not like that of other mothers. Her son has not only been taken from her by death, but has died ignominiously on a Roman cross, executed between two vile malefactors, as if he himself were the greatest criminal of the three; and not only this, but executed as a false prophet—as a deceiver of Israel.