CHAPTER XI

LEGAL ANALYSIS AND SUMMARY OF THE ROMAN TRIAL OF JESUS

In the preceding pages of this volume we have considered the elements of

both Law and Fact as related to the Roman trial of Jesus. Involved in

this consideration were the powers and duties of Pilate as procurator of

Judea and as presiding judge at the trial; general principles of Roman

provincial administration at the time of Christ; the legal and political

status of the subject Jew in his relationship to the conquering Roman;

the exact requirements of criminal procedure in Roman capital trials at

Rome and in the provinces at the date of the crucifixion; the Roman law

applicable to the trial of Jesus; and the facts of said trial before

Pilate and Herod.

We are now in a position to analyze the case from the view point of the

juristic agreement or nonagreement of Law and Fact; and to determine by

a process of judicial dissection and re-formation, the presence or

absence of essential legal elements in the proceedings. We have learned

what should have been done by Pilate acting as a Roman judge in a

criminal matter involving the life of a prisoner. We have also

ascertained what he actually did. We are thus enabled to compare the

requirements with the actualities of the case; and to ascertain the

resemblances in the proceedings against Jesus to a legally conducted

trial under Roman law.

But, in making this summary and analysis, a most important consideration

must be constantly held in mind: that, in matters of review on appeal,

errors will not be presumed; that is, errors will not be considered that

do not appear affirmatively upon the record. The law will rather presume

and the court will assume that what should have been done, was done. In

conformity with this principle, the presumption must be indulged that

Pilate acted in strict obedience to the requirements of Roman law in

trying Jesus, unless the Gospels of the New Testament, which constitute

the record in the case, either affirmatively or by reasonable inference,

disclose the absence of such obedience. A failure to note this

presumption and to keep this principle in mind, has caused many writers

upon this subject to make erroneous statements concerning the merits and

legal aspects of the trial of Christ.

Laymen frequently assert the essential principle of this presumption

without seeming to be aware of it. Both Keim and Geikie declare that

assessors or assistants were associated with Pilate in the trial of

Jesus. The Gospel records nowhere even intimate such a thing; and no

other original records are in existence to furnish such information. And

yet one of the most celebrated of the biblical critics, Dr. Theodor

Keim, writing on the trial of Christ by Pilate, says: "Beside him, upon

benches, were the council or the assessors of the court, sub-officials,

friends, Roman citizens, whose presence could not be dispensed with, and

who were not wanting to the procurators of Judea, although our reports

do not mention them."[109] To the same effect, Dr. Cunningham Geikie

thus writes: "The assessors of the court--Roman citizens--who acted as

nominal members of the judicial bench, sit beside Pilate--for Roman law

required their presence."[110]

These statements of the renowned writers just quoted are justified not

only on the ground of logical historical inference, but also on the

principle of actual legal presumption. The closest scrutiny of the New

Testament narratives nowhere discovers even an intimation that a bench

of judges helped Pilate to conduct the trial of Jesus. And yet, as

Geikie says, "Roman law required their presence," and the legal

presumption is that they were in and about the Prætorium ready to lend

assistance, and that they actually took part in the proceedings. This

inference is strengthened by the fact that Pilate, after he had learned

the nature of the accusation against Jesus, called Him into the palace

to examine Him. Why did Pilate do this? Why did he not examine the

prisoner in the presence of His accusers in the open air? Geikie tells

us that there was a judgment hall in the palace in which trials were

usually conducted.[111] Is it not possible, nay probable, that the

assessors and Pilate were assembled at an early hour in this hall to

hear the usual criminal charges of the day, or, perhaps, to try the

accusation against Jesus, of whose appearance before them they had been

previously notified; and that, when the governor heard that the

religious scruples of the Jews would not permit them to enter the

judgment hall during the Passover feast, he went out alone to hear the

accusation against the prisoner; and that he then returned with the

accused into the hall where the bench of judges were awaiting him, to

lay before them the charges and to further examine the case? It is

admitted that this theory and the statement of Geikie that there was a

hall in the palace where trials were generally held, are seemingly

refuted by the fact that Roman trials were almost always conducted in

the open air. But this was not invariably true; and the case of Pilate

and his court might have been an exception.

It has been sought to lay particular stress upon the doctrine of legal

presumption that what should have been done, was done, unless the record

affirmatively negatives the fact, because it is impossible to appreciate

fully the legal aspects of the trial of Jesus, unless this doctrine is

understood and kept constantly in view.

A casual perusal of the New Testament narratives leaves the impression

upon the mind of the reader that the proceedings against Jesus before

Pilate were exceedingly irregular and lacking in all the essential

elements of a regular trial. As a matter of fact, this impression may be

grounded in absolute truth. It may be that the action of Pilate was

arbitrary and devoid of all legal forms. This possibility is

strengthened by the consideration that Jesus was not a Roman citizen and

could not, therefore, demand the strict observance of forms of law in

His trial. A Jewish provincial, when accused of crime, stood before a

Roman governor with no other rights than the plea of justice as a

defense against the summary exercise of absolute power. In other words,

in the case of Jesus, Pilate was not bound to observe strictly rules of

criminal procedure prescribed by Roman law. He could, if he saw fit,

dispense with forms of law and dispose of the case either equitably or

as his whims suggested. Nor was there a right of appeal in such a case,

from the judgment of the procurator to the emperor at Rome. The decision

of the governor against a provincial was final. The case of Paul before

Felix and before Festus was entirely different. Paul was a Roman citizen

and, as such, was entitled to all the rights involved in Roman

citizenship, which included the privilege of an appeal to Cæsar against

the judgment of a provincial officer; and he actually exercised this

right.[112] It was incumbent, therefore, upon Roman officials to observe

due forms of law in proceeding against him. And St. Luke, in Acts xxiv.,

indicates the almost exact precision and formality of a Roman trial, in

the case of Paul.

But the fact that Jesus was not a Roman citizen does not prove that due

forms of law were not observed in His trial. It is hardly probable, as

before observed, that despotism and caprice were tolerated at any time,

in any part of the Roman world. And, besides, Roman history and

jurisprudence are replete with illustrations of complete legal

protection extended by Roman officials to the non-Roman citizens of

subject states. It is, moreover, a legitimate and almost inevitable

inference, drawn from the very nature of the Roman constitution and from

the peculiar character of Roman judicial administration, that no human

life belonging to a citizen or subject of Rome would be permitted to be

taken without due process of law, either imperial or local.

In forming an opinion as to the existence or non-existence of a regular

trial of Jesus before Pilate, the meager details of the New Testament

histories must not alone be relied upon. Nor must it be forgotten that

the Gospel writers were not lawyers or court officers reporting a case

to be reviewed on appeal. They were laymen writing a general account of

a judicial transaction. And the omissions in their narratives are not to

be considered as either discrepancies or falsehoods. They simply did not

intend to tell everything about the trial of Jesus; and the fact that

they do not record the successive steps of a regular trial does not mean

that these steps were not observed.

It is respectfully submitted that if a modern layman should write a

newspaper or book account of one of the great criminal trials of this

century, with no intention of making it a strictly judicial report, this

account would not reveal the presence of more essential legal elements

than are disclosed by the reports of the Evangelists of the proceedings

against Jesus.

The majority of writers on the subject express the opinion that the

appearance of the Christ before the Roman governor was nothing more than

a short hearing in which a few questions were asked and answers made;

that the proceedings were exceedingly brief and informal; and that the

emergencies of the case rather than forms of law guided the judgment and

controlled the conduct of Pilate. As a layman, the author of these

volumes would take the same view. But as a lawyer, treating the subject

in a judicial manner, and bound by legal rules, regulations, and

presumptions, in reviewing the merits of the case, he feels constrained

to dissent from the prevalent opinion and to declare that the New

Testament records, though meager in details, exhibit all the essential

elements of an ordinary criminal trial, whether conducted in ancient or

modern times. He further asserts that if the affirmative statements of

the Evangelists that certain things were done be supplemented by the

legal presumption that still other things were done because they should

have been done, and because the record does not affirmatively declare

that they were not done, an almost perfect judicial proceeding can be

developed from the Gospel reports of the trial of Jesus before Pilate.

These reports disclose the following essential elements of all ancient

and modern criminal trials:

1. The Indictment, or _Nominis Delatio_.

"What accusation bring ye against this man?"

"And they began to accuse him, saying, We found this fellow

perverting the nation, and forbidding to give tribute to Cæsar,

saying that he himself is Christ a King."

2. The Examination, or _Interrogatio_.

"Art thou the King of the Jews?"

"Art thou a King then?"

3. The Defense, or _Excusatio_.

"My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this world

then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to

the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.... To this end was

I born and for this cause came I into the world, that I should

bear witness unto the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth

my voice."

4. The Acquittal, or _Absolutio_.

"I find in him no fault at all."

Here we have clearly presented the essential features of a criminal

trial: the Indictment, the Examination of the charge, the Defense, and

the Judgment of the tribunal, which, in this case, was an Acquittal.

To demonstrate that Pilate intended to conduct the proceedings against

Jesus seriously and judicially, at the beginning of the trial, let us

briefly review the circumstances attendant upon the successive steps

just enumerated. And to this end, let us proceed in order:

1. The Indictment, or _Nominis Delatio_.

When Pilate had seated himself in the ivory curule chair of the

procurator of Judea, at an early hour on Friday morning, the day of the

crucifixion of Jesus, a Jerusalem mob, led by the Sanhedrin, confronted

him with the prisoner. His first recorded words are: "What accusation

bring ye against this man?" As before suggested, this question is very

keenly indicative of the presence of the judge and of the beginning of a

solemn judicial proceeding. Every word rings with Roman authority and

strongly suggests administrative action.

The accusing priests sought to evade this question by answering: "If he

were not a malefactor, we would not have delivered him up unto thee."

If Pilate had adopted the Jewish view of the merits of the matter, that

his countersign was the only thing necessary to justify the final

condemnation and punishment of the prisoner; or, if he had been

indifferent to the legal aspects of the case, he would simply have

granted their request at once, and would have ordered the prisoner to

execution. But this was not the case; for we are assured that he

insisted on knowing the nature of the accusation before he would assume

jurisdiction of the affair. The mere information that He was a

"malefactor" did not suffice. The conduct of the Roman judge clearly

indicated that accusation was a more important element of Roman

criminal procedure than was inquisition. To meet the emergency, the Jews

were compelled, then, to make the formal charge, that:

"We found this fellow perverting the nation, and forbidding to give

tribute to Cæsar, saying that he himself is Christ a King."

Here we have presented the indictment, the first step in a criminal

proceeding; and it was presented not voluntarily, but because a Roman

judge, acting judicially, demanded and forced its presentment.

2. The Examination, or _Interrogatio_.

Not content with knowing the nature of the charges against the prisoner,

Pilate insisted on finding out whether they were true or not. He

accordingly took Jesus inside the palace and interrogated Him. With true

judicial tact, he brushed aside the first two accusations as

unimportant, and came with pointed directness to the material question:

"Art thou the King of the Jews?"

This interrogation bears the impress of a judicial inquiry, touching a

matter involving the question of high treason, the charge against the

prisoner. It clearly indicates a legal proceeding in progress. And when

Jesus made reply that seemed to indicate guilt, the practiced ear of the

Roman judge caught the suggestion of a criminal confession, and he asked

impatiently:

"Art thou a King then?"

This question indicates seriousness and a resolution to get at the

bottom of the matter with a view to a serious judicial determination of

the affair.

3. The Defense, or _Excusatio_.

In reply to the question of the judge, the prisoner answered:

"My kingdom is not of this world."

This language indicates that Jesus was conscious of the solemnity of the

proceedings; and that He recognized the right of Pilate to interrogate

Him judicially. His answer seemed to say: "I recognize your authority in

matters of this life and this world. If my claims to kingship were

temporal, I fully appreciate that they would be treasonable; and that,

as the representative of Cæsar, you would be justified in delivering me

to death. But my pretensions to royalty are spiritual, and this places

the matter beyond your reach."

The defense of Jesus was in the nature of what we call in modern

pleading a Confession and Avoidance: "A plea which admits, in words or

in effect, the truth of the matter contained in the Declaration; and

alleges some new matter to avoid the effect of it, and shows that the

plaintiff is, notwithstanding, not entitled to his action."

It may be analyzed thus:

Confession: Inside the palace, Pilate asked Jesus the question: "Art

thou the King of the Jews?" According to St. Matthew, Jesus answered:

"Thou sayest";[113] according to St. Mark: "Thou sayest it";[114]

according to St. Luke: "Thou sayest it";[115] according to St. John:

"Thou sayest that I am a king."[116]

All these replies are identical in signification, and mean: Thou sayest

it, because I am really a king. In other words, He simply confessed that

He was a king. Then came His real defense.

Avoidance: "My kingdom is not of this world: if my kingdom were of this

world, then would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered to

the Jews: but now is my kingdom not from hence.... To this end was I

born and for this cause came I into the world, that I should bear

witness of the truth. Everyone that is of the truth heareth my voice."

After having confessed claims to kingship, and having thereby made

Himself momentarily liable on the charge of high treason, He at once

avoids the effect of the declaration by alleging new matter which

exempted Him from the operation of the _crimen Læsæ Majestatis_. He

boldly declares His kingship, but places His kingdom beyond the skies in

the realm of truth and spirit. He asserts a bold antithesis between the

Empire of Cæsar and the Kingdom of God. He cheerfully acknowledges the

procuratorship of Pilate in the first, but fearlessly proclaims His own

Messiahship in the second.

4. The Acquittal, or _Absolutio_.

It is more than probable that Pilate's heathen soul mocked the heavenly

claims of the lowly prisoner in his presence, but his keenly discerning

Roman intellect marked at once the distinction between an earthly and a

heavenly kingdom. He saw clearly that their boundaries nowhere

conflicted, and that treasonable contact was impossible. He judged that

Jesus was simply a gentle enthusiast whose pretensions were harmless.

Accordingly, he went out to the mob and pronounced a verdict of "not

guilty." Solemnly raising his hand, he proclaimed the sentence of

acquittal:

"I find in him no fault at all."

This language is not the classical legal phraseology of a Roman verdict

of acquittal. The Latin word for a single ballot was _absolvo_; the

words of a collective judgment of a bench of judges was _non fecisse

videtur_. The language of St. John, though that of a layman, is equally

as effectual, if not so formal and judicial.

More than any other feature of the case, the verdict of acquittal, "I

find in him no fault at all," indicates the regularity and solemnity of

a judicial proceeding. Standing alone, it would indicate the close of a

regular trial in which a court having jurisdiction had sat in judgment

upon the life or liberty of an alleged criminal.

If to these essential elements of a trial which the Gospel records

affirmatively disclose be added other necessary elements of a regular

Roman trial which legal presumption supplies, because these records do

not deny their existence, we have then in the proceedings against Jesus

all the important features of Roman criminal procedure involving the

question of life or death. That several essential elements are absent is

evident from a reasonable construction of the statements of the

Evangelists. That which most forcibly negatives the existence of a

regular trial was the precipitancy with which the proceedings were

conducted before Pilate. We have seen that ten days were allowed at Rome

after the _nominis receptio_ to secure testimony and prepare the case

before the beginning of the trial. This rule was certainly not observed

at the trial of Jesus. But several irregularities which are apparent

from a perusal of the Gospel histories may be explained from the fact

that Jesus was not a Roman citizen and was not, therefore, entitled to a

strict observance of Roman law in the proceedings against him.

The foregoing analysis and summary apply only to the proceedings of the

first appearance of Jesus before Pilate. It was at this time that the

real Roman trial took place. All subsequent proceedings were irregular,

tumultuous and absolutely illegal. The examination of Jesus by Herod

cannot, strictly speaking, be called a trial. The usual explanation of

the sending of the prisoner to Herod is that Pilate learned that He was

a native and citizen of Galilee; and that, desiring to rid himself of an

embarrassing subject, he determined to transfer the accused from the

_forum apprehensionis_ to the _forum originis vel domicilii_. It has

frequently been asserted that it was usual in Roman procedure to

transfer a prisoner from the place of arrest to the place of his origin

or residence. There seems to be no authority for this contention. It may

or may not have been true as a general proposition. But it was certainly

not true in the case of the transfer of Jesus to Herod. In the first

place, when Pilate declared, "I find no fault in him at all," a verdict

of acquittal was pronounced, and the case was ended. The proceedings had

taken form of _res adjudicata_, and former jeopardy could have been

pleaded in bar of further prosecution. It might be differently contended

if Pilate had discovered that Jesus was from Galilee before the

proceedings before him were closed. But it is clear from St. Luke, who

alone records the occurrence of the sending of the prisoner to Herod,

that the case was closed and the verdict of acquittal had been rendered

before Pilate discovered the identity of the accused.[117] It was then

too late to subject a prisoner to a second trial for the same offense.

Rosadi denies emphatically that Herod had jurisdiction of the offense

charged against Jesus. In this connection, he says: "His prosecutors

insisted tenaciously upon His answering to a charge of _continuous_

sedition, as lawyers call it. This offence had been begun in Galilee and

ended in Jerusalem--that is to say, in Judæa. Now it was a rule of Roman

law, which the procurator of Rome could neither fail to recognize nor

afford to neglect, that the competence of a court territorially

constituted was determined either by the place in which the arrest was

made, or by the place in which the offence was committed. Jesus had been

arrested at the gates of Jerusalem; His alleged offence had been

committed for the most part, and as far as all the final acts were

concerned, in the city itself and in other localities of Judæa. In

continuous offences competence was determined by the place in which the

last acts going to constitute the offence had been committed. Thus no

justification whatever existed for determining the court with regard to

the prisoner's origin. But this investigation upon a point of Roman law

is to all intents superfluous, because either Pilate, when he thought of

Herod, intended to strip himself of his inalienable judicial power, and

in this case he ought to have respected the jurisdiction and competence

of the Grand Sanhedrin and not to have busied himself with a conflict as

to cognizance which should only have been discussed and resolved by the

Jewish judicial authorities; or else he had no intention of abdicating

his power, and in this case he ought never to have raised the question

of competence between himself, Governor of Judæa, and Herod, Regent of

Galilee, but between himself and the Roman Vice-Governor of Galilee, his

colleague, if there had been such an one. It is only between judges of

the same judicial hierarchy that a dispute as to territorial competence

can arise. Between magistrates of different States there can only exist

a contrast of power and jurisdiction. The act of Pilate cannot then be

interpreted as a scruple of a constitutional character. It is but a

miserable escape for his irresolution, a mere endeavour to temporize."

The second and final appearance of Jesus before Pilate bears little

resemblance to a regular trial. The characteristic elements of an

ordinary Roman criminal proceeding are almost wholly wanting. The

pusillanimous cowardice of the procurator and the blind fury of the mob

are the chief component parts. A sort of wild phantasmagoria sweeps

through the multitude and circles round the tribunal of the governor.

Pilate struggles with his conscience, and seeks safety in subterfuge. He

begins by declaring to the assembled priests and elders that neither he

nor Herod has found any fault in the man; and then, as a means of

compromise and conciliation, makes the monstrous proposal that he will

first scourge and then release the prisoner. This infamous proposal is

rejected by the mob. The cowardly procurator then adopts another mean

expedient as a way of escape. He offers to deliver Jesus to them as a

Passover gift. Him they refuse and Barabbas, the robber, is demanded.

Pilate's terror is intensified by superstitious dread, when the mob

begins to cry: "He made himself the Son of God!" From out the anguish of

his soul, the voice of Justice sends to his quivering lips the

thrice-repeated question: "Why, what evil hath he done?" The mob

continues to cry: "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

And as a final assault upon his conscience and his courage, the

hypocritical priests warn him that he must not release a pretender to

kingship, for such a man is an enemy to Cæsar. The doom of the Nazarene

is sealed by this last maneuver of the rabble. Then, as a propitiation

to the great God of truth and justice, and as balm to his hurt and

wounded conscience, he washes his hands in front of them and exclaims:

"I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it."

The crucifixion followed Pilate's final determination; and thus ended

the most famous trial in the history of the world. It began with the

arrest of Jesus in Gethsemane at midnight, and ended with His

crucifixion on Golgotha on the afternoon of the same day. As we have

seen, it was a double trial, conducted within the jurisdictions of the

two most famous systems of jurisprudence known to mankind. In both

trials, substantially the right issue was raised. Before the Sanhedrin,

the prisoner was charged with blasphemy and convicted. Regarding Jesus

as a mere man, a plain Jewish citizen, this judgment was "substantially

right in point of law", but was unjust and outrageous because forms of

criminal procedure which every Jewish prisoner was entitled to have

observed, were completely ignored.

The proceedings before Pilate, we have reason to believe, were

conducted, in a general way, with due regard to forms of law. But the

result was judicial murder, because the judge, after having acquitted

Jesus, delivered Him to be crucified. "I find in him no fault at all"

was the verdict of Pilate. But this just and righteous sentence was

destroyed and obliterated by the following: "And they were instant with

loud voices, requiring that he might be crucified. And the voices of

them and of the chief priests prevailed. And Pilate gave sentence that

it should be as they required."[118]

A horrible travesty on justice, this! "_Absolvo_" and "_Ibis ad

crucem_," in the same breath, were the final utterances of a Roman judge

administering Roman law in the most memorable judicial transaction

known to men.

The treatment of this great theme would be incomplete and unsatisfactory

unless reference were made to the peculiar views of some who believe

that political rather than legal considerations should govern in

determining the justice or the injustice of the proceedings against

Jesus before Pilate. A certain class of critics insist on regarding the

Roman governor in the light of an administrator rather than a judge, and

contend that the justice of his conduct and the righteousness of his

motives should be tested by principles of public policy rather than by

strict legal rules. It is insisted by such persons that various

considerations support this contention. It is pointed out that Pilate

exercised the unlimited jurisdiction of the military _imperium_, and was

not, therefore, strictly bound by legal rules; that Jesus was not a

Roman citizen, and, for this reason, was not entitled to the strict

observance of forms of law; and that the stubborn, rebellious and

turbulent temper of the Jewish people required the strong hand of a

military governor, enforcing political obedience by drastic measures,

rather than the action of a judge punctiliously applying rules of law.

These peculiar views subject the conduct of Pilate to the pressure of

public necessity rather than to the test of private right, and insist

that sympathy rather than censure should hold the scales in which his

deeds are weighed.

This view of the case was presented in the last generation by Sir James

Fitz-James Stephen in a book of extraordinary strength and brilliancy

entitled "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." It was written in answer to

John Stuart Mill, and is, without doubt, the most powerful assault in

the English language on what men have been pleased to call in modern

times "liberty of conscience." In his letters and essays, Mr. Mill,

according to the interpretation of Mr. Stephen, "condemns absolutely all

interference with the expression of opinion." When tried by this

standard, the Athenian dicasts, who condemned Socrates; Marcus Aurelius,

who persecuted the Christians; Pontius Pilate, who crucified Jesus; and

Philip II, who sanctioned the tortures of the Spanish Inquisition, were

simply violators of rights of personal opinion and of freedom of

conscience. If you deny the right of liberty of conscience, Mr. Mill

contends, you must not censure Marcus Aurelius and other persecutors of

Christianity. On the contrary, you must approve such persecution; and

you must go further, and find "a principle which would justify Pontius

Pilate." This challenge was boldly accepted by Mr. Stephen, who says:

"Was Pilate right in crucifying Christ? I reply, Pilate's paramount duty

was to preserve the peace in Palestine, to form the best judgment he

could as to the means required for that purpose, and to act upon it when

it was formed. Therefore, if and in so far as he believed in good faith

and on reasonable grounds that what he did was necessary for the

preservation of the peace of Palestine, he was right. It was his duty to

run the risk of being mistaken, notwithstanding Mr. Mill's principle as

to liberty. He was in the position of a judge whose duty it is to try

persons duly brought before him for trial at the risk of error."[119]

This contention is founded upon the inexorable doctrine that what is, is

right; that revolution, though righteous, must be nipped in the bud and

destroyed; and that rights of private conscience must not be tolerated

if they tend to disturb the peace of the community at large. The

inevitable logic of the theory of Mr. Stephen is that the established

order of things in Palestine under Roman rule was right, and that it was

the duty of the Roman governor to regard all attempts at innovation or

revolution in religion or government as a breach of the peace which was

to be promptly suppressed by vigorous measures. There is undoubtedly a

certain amount of truth in this contention, in so far as it implies that

under a just and orderly plan of government, the rights of the

commonwealth to peace and security are greater than the claims of the

individual to liberty of conscience which conflict with and tend to

destroy those rights. It is a truth, at once sovereign and fundamental,

in both law and government, that the rights of the collective body are

greater than those of any individual member; and that when the rights of

the whole and those of a part of the body politic conflict, the rights

of the part must yield and, if necessity requires it, be destroyed. Upon

no other basis can the doctrine of majorities in politics and the right

of Eminent Domain in law, rest. But the application of the principles

involved in this theory must always be made with proper limitations, and

with a due regard to the rights of minorities and individuals; else

government becomes an engine of despotism instead of an expression of

political freedom. A claim of privilege which every member of the

community has a right to make, must be respected by the collective body;

otherwise, a common right has been violated and destroyed. The complete

recognition of this principle is imperative and fundamental, and is the

corner stone of political freedom in free institutions among men.

But the trouble with the contention of Mr. Stephen is that it proceeds

upon a wrong hypothesis. He intimates that Pilate might have "believed

in good faith that what he did was necessary for the preservation of the

peace of Palestine." This is a purely gratuitous and unhistorical

suggestion. The Gospel records nowhere justify such an assumption. The

very opposite is taught by these sacred writings. It is true that

Caiaphas contended that it was expedient that one man should die rather

than that the whole nation should perish. But this was a Jewish, not a

Roman opinion. The Evangelical narratives are unanimous in declaring

that Pilate believed Jesus to be innocent and that "for envy" He had

been accused by His countrymen.

It is cheerfully conceded that occasions may present themselves, in the

tumult and frenzy of revolution, when the responsible authorities of

government may put to death a person whose intentions are innocent, but

whose acts are incentives to riot and bloodshed. This may be done upon

the principle of self-preservation, which is the first law of government

as well as of nature. But no such necessity arose in the case of Jesus;

and no such motives are ascribed by the Evangelists to Pilate. They very

clearly inform us that the action of the Roman governor in delivering

the prisoner to be crucified was prompted by private and not public

considerations. He had no fears that Jesus would precipitate a

revolution dangerous to the Roman state. He simply wished to quiet the

mob and retain his position as procurator of Judea. The facts of

history, then, do not support the contention of Mr. Stephen.

Continuing, in another place, the same eminent writer says: "The point

to which I wish to direct attention is that Pilate's duty was to

maintain peace and order in Judea and to maintain the Roman power. It is

surely impossible to contend seriously that it was his duty, or that it

could be the duty of any one in his position, to recognize in the person

brought to his judgment seat, I do not say God Incarnate, but the

teacher and preacher of a higher form of morals and a more enduring form

of social order than that of which he himself was the representative. To

a man in Pilate's position the morals and the social order which he

represents are for all practical purposes final and absolute standards.

If, in order to evade the obvious inference from this, it is said that

Pilate ought to have respected the principle of religious liberty as

propounded by Mr. Mill, the answer is that if he had done so he would

have run the risk of setting the whole province in a blaze. It is only

in very modern times, and under the influence of modern sophisms, that

belief and action have come to be so much separated in these parts of

the world that the distinction between the temporal and spiritual

department of affairs even appears to be tenable; but this is a point

for future discussion.

"If this should appear harsh, I would appeal again to Indian experience.

Suppose that some great religious reformer--say, for instance, some one

claiming to be the Guru of the Sikhs, or the Imam in whose advent many

Mahommedans devoutly believe--were to make his appearance in the Punjab

or the North-West Provinces. Suppose that there was good reason to

believe--and nothing is more probable--that whatever might be the

preacher's own personal intentions, his preaching was calculated to

disturb the public peace and produce mutiny and rebellion: and suppose

further (though the supposition is one which it is hardly possible to

make even in imagination), that a British officer, instead of doing

whatever might be necessary, or executing whatever orders he might

receive, for the maintenance of British authority, were to consider

whether he ought not to become a disciple of the Guru or Imam. What

course would be taken towards him? He would be instantly dismissed with

ignominy from the service which he would disgrace, and if he acted up to

his convictions, and preferred his religion to his Queen and country, he

would be hanged as a rebel and a traitor."[120]

These theories and illustrations are not only plausible but entirely

reasonable when viewed in the light of the facts which they assume to be

true. But here again, we must insist that they do not harmonize with

the actual facts of the case to which they are intended to apply. In

the extract above quoted, three suppositions are suggested. The first

one is immaterial. Let us analyze the other two in the light of the

Gospel histories. The second supposition is this: "Suppose that there

was good reason to believe--and nothing is more probable--that whatever

might be the preacher's own personal intentions, his preaching was

calculated to disturb the public peace and produce mutiny and

rebellion." What passage of Scripture, it may be asked, justifies this

parallel with the case of Jesus before Pilate? There is, in fact,

absolutely none. The nearest approach to one is Matthew xxvii. 24: "When

Pilate saw that he could prevail nothing, but that rather a tumult was

made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, saying,

I am innocent of the blood of this just person: see ye to it." The

"tumult" here referred to means nothing more than the manifestation of

agitated feelings on the part of the mob, who were enraged at the

prospect of an acquittal by the governor. It does not remotely refer to

the danger of a popular rebellion which might endanger the security and

safety of Rome. To admit this supposition would be to elevate the

motives of Pilate in consenting to the crucifixion of Jesus to the level

of solicitude for the welfare of his country. This would not be

justified by the record, which clearly reveals that Pilate was moved by

personal selfishness rather than by a sense of official duty.

The third and last supposition above mentioned is this: "And suppose,

further (though the supposition is one which it is hardly possible to

make even in imagination), that a British officer, instead of doing

whatever might be necessary, or executing whatever orders he might

receive, for the maintenance of British authority, were to consider

whether he ought not to become a disciple of the Guru or Imam." Here

again, we may ask, what passage of Scripture supports this parallel of a

Mohammedan Guru before a British officer with Jesus Christ before

Pontius Pilate? Where is it anywhere stated, or by reasonable inference

implied, that Pilate considered whether he ought not to become a

disciple of Jesus? The celebrated English author has simply argued his

case from a radically defective record of fact.

On the other hand, let us draw what we conceive to be a true parallel.

Let us take an illustration nearer home. Suppose that the Governor

General of the Philippine Islands was clothed with authority of life and

death as a judge in criminal matters pertaining to the affairs of those

islands. Suppose that a Mohammedan preacher should appear somewhere in

the archipelago where Mohammedans are numerous, and begin to proclaim a

new religious faith which was opposed not only to the ordinary tenets of

Islamism, but also to the Christian religion which is the dominant faith

of the rulers of the Philippines. Suppose that the coreligionists of

this Mohammedan prophet should seize him, bring him before the Governor

General, and lodge against him a threefold charge: That he was stirring

up sedition in the islands; that he had advised the Filipinos not to pay

taxes due to the United States government; and that he had said and

done things that were treasonable against the United States. Suppose

that the Governor General, after personal examination, became satisfied

that the Mohamammedan preacher was an innocent enthusiast, that the

charges against him were false, and were due to the envy and hatred of

his fellow-Mohammedans; that to quiet the passions, and satisfy the

demands of the mob, he proposed to scourge him first and then release

him; that, in the face of the vehement accusations of the rabble, he

hesitated and vacillated for several hours; and that finally, when the

Mohammedans threatened to send a complaint to President Roosevelt which

might endanger his position, he ordered his innocent prisoner to death.

Suppose this should happen beneath the American flag, what would be the

judgment of the American people as to the merits of the proceedings?

Would the Governor General retain his office by such a course of

conduct?

But let us view it in another light. Let us assume that the Governor

General believed that the Mohammedan preacher was innocent and that his

"personal intentions" were not remotely hostile or treasonable, but felt

that his preaching might stir up rebellion dangerous to the power of the

American government in the Philippines; and that it was his duty as the

guardian of American honor and security, to put the native preacher to

death; and this not to punish past criminal conduct, but to prevent

future trouble by a timely execution. Suppose that the Governor General

should do this while sitting as a judge, would it not be judicial

murder? Suppose that he should do it while acting as an administrator,

would it be less an assassination? Would it not stamp with indelible

shame the administration that should sanction or tolerate it? Would the

press of America not denounce the act as murder, declare that despotism

reigned in our Eastern possessions, and demand the removal and

punishment of the man who had disgraced his office and brought odium

upon the administrative justice of his country?

In closing the Roman trial of Jesus, let us repeat what we have already

said: that the conduct of Pilate, when the prisoner was first brought

before him, seems to have been marked by judicial regularity and

solemnity; that the Roman procurator seems to have deported himself in a

manner worthy of his office; that, in the beginning, he appears to have

resolved to observe due forms of law in the proceedings, to the end that

justice might be attained; and that, after a comparatively regular

trial, he pronounced an absolute verdict of acquittal. Thus far the

course of Pilate is manly and courageous. But with the return of the

prisoner from Herod, unmanliness and cowardice begin.

This last act of the great drama presents a pitiable spectacle of Roman

degeneracy. A Roman governor of courtly origin, clothed with _imperium_,

with a Prætorian Cohort at his command, and the military authority and

resources of an empire at his back, cringes and crouches before a

Jerusalem mob. The early Christian writers characterized Pilate with a

single term ([Greek: anandria]), "unmanliness." They were right. This

word is a summary, accurate and complete, of the character of the man.

There is inherent in the highest and noblest of the human species a

quality of courage which knows no fear; that prefers death and

annihilation to dishonor and disgrace; that believes, with Cæsar, that

it is better to die at once than to live always in fear of death; and,

with Mahomet, that Paradise will be found in the shadow of the crossing

of swords. This quality of courage is peculiar to no race of men and to

no form of civilization. It has existed everywhere and at all times. It

causes the spirit of man to tread the earth like a lion and to mount the

air like an eagle. The ancient barbarians of Gaul believed that

lightning was a menace from the skies; and amidst the very fury of the

storm, from their great bows they sent arrows heavenward as a defiance

to the gods. This quality of courage, which is natural to man, Pilate

lacked. And when we think of his cowardly, cringing, crouching,

vacillating conduct before a few fanatical priests in Jerusalem, another

scene at another time comes up before us. The Tenth Legion rises in

mutiny and defies Julius Cæsar. The mighty Roman summons his rebellious

soldiers to the Field of Mars, reads to them the Roman riot act, and

threatens to dismiss them not only from his favor but from Roman

military service. The veterans of a hundred Gallic battlefields are

subdued and conquered by the tone and glance of a single man; and with

tearful eyes, beg forgiveness, and ask to be permitted to follow once

again him and his eagles to the feast of victory and of death. Imagine,

if you can, Cæsar in the place of Pilate. it is not difficult to

conceive the fare of a vulgar rabble who persisted in annoying such a

Roman by demanding the blood of an innocent man.

But the cowardice and pusillanimity of the Roman governor are not

properly illustrated by comparison with the courage and magnanimity of a

Roman general. At the trial of Jesus, Pilate was acting in a judicial

capacity, and was essentially a judge. His character, then, may be best

understood by contrasting it with another judge in another age and

country. His craven qualities will then be manifest.

The greatest of the English jurists and judges was Sir Edward Coke. His

legal genius was superb and his judicial labors prodigious. During the

greater part of his professional career he slept only six hours, "and

from three in the morning till nine at night he read or took notes of

the cases tried in Westminster Hall with as little interruption as

possible." He was great not only as a judge, but as an advocate as well.

The consummate skill with which he argued the intricate cases of Lord

Cromwell and Edward Shelley, brought him a practice never before equaled

in England, and made him renowned as the greatest lawyer of the times.

His erudition was profound, his powers of advocacy brilliant, his

personal and judicial courage was magnificent. He not only repeatedly

defied and ridiculed his colleagues on the bench, but more than once

excited the wrath and braved the anger of the king. He fearlessly

planted himself upon the ancient and inalienable rights of Englishmen;

and, time and time again, interposed his robe at office between the

privileges of the Commons and the aggressions of the Crown. He boldly

declared that a royal proclamation could not make that an offense which

was not an offense before. His unswerving independence was well

illustrated in a case brought before him in 1616. The question at issue

was the validity of a grant made by the king to the Bishop of Lichfield

of a benefice to be held _in commendam_. King James, through his

attorney-general, Bacon, commanded the chief justice to delay judgment

till he himself had discussed the question with the judges. Bacon, at

Coke's request, sent a letter containing the same command to each of the

judges. Coke then obtained their signatures to a paper declaring that

the instructions of the attorney-general were illegal, and that they

were bound to proceed with the case. The king became very angry,

summoned the judges before him in the council chamber, declared to them

his kingly prerogative, and forbade them to discuss his royal privileges

in ordinary arguments before their tribunal. Coke's colleagues fell upon

their knees, cowed and terrified, before the royal bigot and despot, and

begged his pardon for having expressed an opinion that had excited his

displeasure. But Coke refused to yield, and, when asked if, in the

future, he would delay a case at the king's order, he bravely replied

that on all occasions and under any emergency, he would do nothing

unworthy of himself or his office as an English citizen and judge. And

rather than prostitute the high prerogatives of his court, he

indignantly and contemptuously hurled his judicial mantle into the face

of the Stuart king. How much grander and nobler was the conduct of Coke,

the Englishman, than that of Pilate, the cowardly, pusillanimous Roman!

Both were judges, both stood in the shadow of the majesty and menace of

a throne, both were threatened with royal wrath, both held high judicial

places under the governments of the most vast and glorious empires that

this world has known. Coke preferred the dictates of his conscience to

the decrees of his king; and his name remains forever enshrined in the

minds and memories of men as the noblest type of a brave and righteous

judge. For a miserable mess of Roman political pottage, Pilate forfeited

his birthright to the most splendid and illustrious example of judicial

integrity and courage in the history of the earth; and his name remains

forever a hissing and reproach, as the worst specimen of the corrupt and

cowardly judge that mankind has known.

If it be objected that the position of Pilate was more painful and

precarious than that of Coke, because the Roman was confronted by a wild

and furious mob, reply must then be made that both the spirit and letter

of Roman laws forbade surrender by Roman governors and administrators of

the principles of justice to the blind passions of the multitude. This

spirit was, in a later age, set forth in the laws of Justinian, when

reproduction was made of the proclamations of the emperors Diocletian

and Maximian, on the occasion of a public riot, that "the vain clamors

of the people are not to be heeded, seeing that it is in no wise

necessary to pay any attention to the cries of those desiring the

acquittal of the guilty, or the condemnation of the innocent."[121]

Pilate yielded to the demands of the mob when his country's laws forbade

it. His intellect willed the execution of an innocent man when his

conscience condemned it. "Such was the man whose cowardice, made

manifest in the most supreme and memorable act of injustice the world

has ever known, was destined to earn him eternal infamy. To him and to

no others pointed the poet as

'colui

Che fece per viltate il gran rifiuto;'

to him, the prototype of that long train of those who were never quite

alive, who vainly sought glory in this world, vainly dreaded infamy;

who, ever wavering betwixt good and evil, washed their hands; who, like

the neutral angels of the threshold, were neither faithful nor

rebellious; who are equally despised by pity and justice; who render

themselves

'A Dio spiacenti ed ai nemici sui.'

And what man other than Pilate was ever placed so typically, in such

accordance with the eyes of the poet, between the Son of God and His

enemies, between justice and mercy, between right and wrong, between the

Emperor and the Jews, and has refused either issue of the dilemma?

"Was it Celestine, Diocletian, or Esau? But they of two things chose the

one; and who knows but that they chose the better? A hermitage and a

mess of pottage may under many aspects be better worth than the papacy

renounced by Celestine, than the empire abdicated by Diocletian, or than

the birthright bartered by Esau. But Pilate refused to choose, and his

refusal was great--great enough to justify the antonomasia of Dante--and

it was cowardly. He refused not only the great gift of free will in a

case when a free choice was his absolute duty. When admitted, like the

fallen angels, to the great choice between good and evil, he did not

cleave for ever to the good, as did St. Michael, or to the evil, as did

Lucifer, but he refused a power which for him was the fount of duty and

which cost the life of a man and the right of an innocent."

But was Pilate alone guilty of the crime of the crucifixion? Were the

Jews wholly blameless? This raises the question: Who were the real

crucifiers of the Christ, the Jews or the Romans? That the Jews were the

instigators and the Romans the consummators of the crucifixion is

evident from the Gospel narratives. The Jews made the complaint, and the

Romans ordered and effected the arrest of the prisoner in Gethsemane.

Having tried Him before their own tribunal, the Jews then led Jesus away

to the Roman governor, and in the Prætorium accused Him and furnished

evidence against Him. But the final act of crucifying was a Roman act.

It is true that Jewish elements were present in the crucifixion of

Jesus. The death draught offered Him on the cross suggests a humane

provision of Hebrew law. This drink was usury administered among the

Hebrews "so that the delinquent might lose clear consciousness through

the ensuing intoxication." Again, the body of Jesus was removed from the

cross and buried before it was night. This was in deference to an

ancient custom of the Jews to bury criminals before sunset who had first

been executed by stoning for the crime of blasphemy and had then been

subjected to the indignity of being hung upon a tree, in conformity with

a Mosaic ordinance contained in Deut. xxi. 22. But these two incidents

exhaust the Jewish features of the crucifixion; and, besides, these

elements were merely physical. The spiritual or moral features,

involving turpitude and crime, are entirely different considerations

from those that are simply historical. The question still arises: Who

were the morally guilty parties? Who were the directly responsible

agents of the crucifixion, the Jews or the Romans? Upon whom should the

greater blame rest, if both were guilty? A passage from St. John seems

to indicate that the Jews were the bearers of the greater sin. Replying

to a question of Pilate concerning the procurator's power to crucify

Him, "Jesus answered, Thou couldest have no power at all against me,

except it were given thee from above; therefore he that delivered me

unto thee hath the greater sin."[122] According to many commentators,

Jesus referred to Caiaphas; according to others, He spoke of Judas as

the person who had the greater sin. But in any case it is certain that

He did not intend to involve the whole Jewish nation in the crime of His

arrest and execution. The language of the scriptural context indicates a

single person. Pilate, on the one hand, is made the silent instrument in

the hands of God for the accomplishment of the designs of Heaven.

Caiaphas, on the other hand, is probably referred to as the one having

the greater sin, because, being the high priest of the Sanhedrin, he

better understood the questions involved in the religious charge of

blasphemy, and was, therefore, the greater sinner against the laws of

God, in the matter of the injustice then being perpetrated.

[Illustration: THE CRUCIFIXION (MUNKACSY)]

Aside from the religious questions involved, and speaking in the light

of history and law, our own judgment is that the real crucifiers of the

Christ were the Romans, and that Pilate and his countrymen should bear

the greater blame. It is true that the Jews were the instigators, the

accusers. But Pilate was the judge whose authority was absolute. The

Jews were powerless to inflict the death penalty. Pilate had the final

disposition of all matters of life and death. In short, he could have

prevented the crucifixion of Jesus. He did not do so; and upon him and

his countrymen should rest the censure of Heaven and the execration of

mankind.

But, admitting that the priests of the Sanhedrin were equally guilty

with Pilate and the Romans, does it follow that all Jews of the days of

Jesus who were not participants in the crime against him, should suffer

for the folly and criminal conduct of a mere fragment of a Sadducean

sect? Is it not true that the Jewish people, as a race, were not parties

to the condemnation and execution of the Christ? Is it not reasonable to

suppose that the masses in Palestine were friendly to the democratic

Reformer who was the friend of the poor, the lame, and the blind? Did

not the reception of his miracles and his triumphal entry into Jerusalem

indicate His popularity with the plain people? Is it not historically

true that the great body of the Jewish population in Judea, in Galilee,

in Samaria, and in Perea, was unfriendly to the members of the

Sanhedrin, and regarded them as political renegades and religious

delinquents? Is it not reasonably certain that a large majority of the

countrymen of Jesus were his ardent well-wishers and sincerely regretted

his untimely end? Is it possible to conceive that these friends and

well-wishers were the inheritors of the curse of Heaven because of the

crime of Golgotha? If not, is it rational to suppose that their innocent

descendants have been the victims of this curse?

The cruel and senseless notion of the implacable wrath of Deity has

prevailed in all the ages as an explanation of the destruction of

Jerusalem and the dispersion and persecution of the Jews. It is worse

than nonsense to see in this event anything but the operation of vulgar

physical forces of the most ordinary kind. The fall of Jerusalem was a

most natural and consequential thing. It was not even an extraordinary

historical occurrence, even in Jewish history. Titus did not so

completely destroy Jerusalem as did Nebuchadnezzar before him. Razing

cities to the ground was a customary Roman act, a form of pastime, a

characteristic Roman proceeding in the case of stubborn and rebellious

towns. Scipio razed Carthage and drove Carthaginians into the most

remote corners of the earth. Was any Roman or Punic god interested in

this event? Cæsar destroyed many Gallic cities and scattered Gauls

throughout the world. Was any deity concerned about these things?

Roman admiration was at times enkindled, but Roman clemency was never

gained by deeds of valor directed against the arms of Rome. Neither

Hannibal nor Mithradates, Vercingetorix nor Jugurtha, the grandest of

her enemies, received any mercy at her hands. To oppose her will, was to

invite destruction; and the sequel was a mere question of "the survival

of the fittest." The most turbulent, rebellious and determined of all

the imperial dependencies was the province of Judea. The Jews regarded

the Romans as idolaters; and, instead of obeying them as masters,

despised and defied them as barbarians. When this spirit became manifest

and promised to be perpetual, the dignity of the Roman name as well as

the safety of the Roman State, demanded the destruction of Jerusalem and

the dispersion of the Jews. And destruction and dispersion followed as

naturally as any profane effect follows any vulgar cause.

The Irish, another splendid race, are being dispersed throughout the

earth by the English domination of Ireland. Is anybody so keenly

discerning as to see in Irish dispersion a divine or superhuman agency?

Is it not, after all, the simple operation of the same brutal, physical

forces that destroyed Carthage and Jerusalem, and, in a latter century,

dismembered Poland?

But the advocates of the divine wrath theory quote Scriptures and point

to prophecy in support of their contention. Then Scriptures must be

pitted against Scriptures. The last prayer of the Master on the cross

must be made to repeal every earlier Scriptural prophecy or decree.

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do," is the sublimest

utterance in the literature of the world. It is the epitome of every

Christian virtue and of all religious truth. This proclamation from the

cross repealed the Mosaic law of hereditary sin; placed upon a personal

basis responsibility for offenses against God and man; and served notice

upon future generations that those who "know not what they do" are

entitled to be spared and forgiven. To believe that God ignored the

prayer of Christ on the cross; and that the centuries of persecution of

the Jews which followed, were but the fulfillment of prophecy and fate,

is to assail the Messiahship of Jesus and to question the goodness and

mercy of Jehovah. Jesus knew the full meaning of His prayer and was

serious unto death. To believe that the Father rejected the petition of

the Son is to destroy the equality of the persons of the Trinity by

investing one with the authority and power to review, revise, and reject

the judgments and petitions of the others. If the Christian doctrine be

true that Christ was God "manifest in the flesh"; if the doctrine of the

Trinity be true that God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy

Ghost, are one and the same, eternal and inseparable, then the prayer of

Jesus on the cross was not a petition, but a declaration that the

malefactors of the crucifixion, who, in the blindness of ignorance, had

helped to kill the Son of Man, would receive at the Last Day the

benefits of the amnesty of the Father of mercy and forgiveness.

If the perpetrators of the great injustice of the Sanhedrin and of the

Prætorium are to be forgiven because they knew not what they did, is

there any justice, human or divine, in persecuting their innocent

descendants of all lands and ages? "When Sir Moses Montefiore was

taunted by a political opponent with the memory of Calvary and described

by him as one who sprang from the murderers who crucified the world's

Redeemer, the next morning the Jewish philanthropist, whom Christendom

has learned to honor, called upon his assailant and showed him the

record of his ancestors which had been kept for two thousand years, and

which showed that their home had been in Spain for two hundred years

before Jesus of Nazareth was born." This half-humorous anecdote

illustrates the utter absurdity and supreme injustice of connecting the

modern Jew with ancient tragic history. The elemental forces of reason,

logic, courage and sympathy, wrapped up and interwoven in every impulse

and fiber of the human mind and heart, will be forever in rebellion

against the monstrous doctrine of centuries of shame, exile and

persecution visited upon an entire race, because of the sins and crimes

of a handful of their progenitors who lived more than a thousand years

before.

But, if the visitation of the sins of the fathers upon the sons is to be

maintained, and perpetuated as a form of divine, if not of human

justice, then, why not, at least, be consistent in the application of

the principle? Many philosophers and critics have detected a striking

kinship between the teachings of Socrates and those of Jesus. A

celebrated historian closes a chapter of the history of Greece with this

sentence: "Thus perished the greatest and most original of the Grecian

philosophers (Socrates), whose uninspired wisdom made the nearest

approach to the divine morality of the Gospel."[123] The indictments

against the philosopher of Athens and the Prophet of Nazareth were

strikingly similar. Socrates was charged with corrupting Athenian youth;

Jesus, with perverting the nation. Socrates was charged with treason

against Athens; Jesus, with treason against Rome. Both were charged with

blasphemy; the Athenian, with blasphemy of the Olympic gods; the

Nazarene, with blaspheming Jehovah. Both sealed with their blood the

faith that was in them. If the descendants of the crucifiers of the

Christ are to be persecuted, brutalized, and exiled for the sins of the

fathers, why not apply the same pitiless law of hereditary punishment to

the descendants of the Athenian dicasts who administered hemlock to the

greatest sage of antiquity? Why not persecute all the Greeks of the

earth, wherever found, because of the injustice of the Areopagus?

Coming back from antiquity and the Greeks to modern times in America,

let us express the hope that all forms of race prejudice and persecution

will soon cease forever. It is a truth well known of all intelligent men

that racial prejudice against the Jew has not completely vanished from

the minds and hearts of Gentiles; that political freedom in an

enlightened age has not brought with it full religious tolerance and

social recognition; that the Jew enjoys the freedom of the letter, but

is still under the ban of the spirit. It is not necessary to go to

Russia to prove this contention. In 1896, Adolf von Sonnenthal, the

greatest of modern actors, who has covered the Austrian stage with

glory, celebrated the fortieth anniversary of his entrance into

theatrical life. The City Council of Vienna refused to extend him the

freedom of the city, because he was a Jew. In 1906, Madame Bernhardt,

the most marvelous living woman, while acting in Canada, was insulted by

having spoiled eggs thrown upon the stage amidst shouts of "Down with

the Jewess!" This outrage called forth a letter of apology, which

appeared in public print, from Sir Wilfred Laurier, Prime Minister of

the Dominion. In the summer of 1907, the sister of Senator Isidor

Rayner, of Maryland, was refused admission to an Atlantic City hotel

because she was a Jewess. Be it remembered that these several acts of

prejudice and persecution did not happen in the Middle Ages, or under

the government of the Romanoffs. Two of them occurred at the beginning

of the twentieth century, beneath the flags of two of the freest and

most civilized nations of the globe. What have Americans to say of the

exclusion of a virtuous, refined, intelligent sister of a great American

senator from an American hotel for no other reason than that she was a

Jewess; that is, that she was of the same race with the Savior of

mankind?

There is certainly no place for religious intolerance and race prejudice

beneath our flag. Fake and hypocritical our religion, if while

professing faith in Jesus we continue to persecute those for whom He

prayed! In vain did Washington, marching in Liberty's vanguard, "lead

Freedom's eaglets to their feast"; in vain the proclamation of the

Declaration of Independence and the adoption of the Constitution at

Philadelphia, a hundred years ago; in vain the bonfires and orations of

the nation's natal day, if our boasted liberties are to exist in theory,

but not in practice, in fancy, but not in fact!

Let no persecutor of the Jew lay the unction to his soul that he is

justified by the tragedy of Golgotha; for he who persecutes in the name

of religion is a spiritual barbarian, an intellectual savage. Let this

same persecutor not make the mistake of supposing that the Jews are

wholly responsible for the persecution that has been heaped upon them.

Before he falls into the foolish blunder of such a supposition, let him

ponder the testimony of several Gentile experts upon the subject. Let

him read "The Scattered Nation," a brilliant lecture on the Jew by the

late Zebulon Vance, of North Carolina, in which occurs this sentence:

"If the Jew is a bad job, in all honesty we should contemplate him as

the handiwork of our own civilization." Let him find Shakespearean

confirmation of this statement in "The Merchant of Venice," Act III,

Scene i. If the Jew-baiter objects that this is the imagination of a

poet, let us then point him to the testimony of a great historian and

statesman to prove to him that the Gentile is in great measure

responsible for the causes that have produced Jewish persecution.

In the British House of Commons, on April 17, 1873, a bill for the

removal of the disabilities of the Jews was the subject of parliamentary

discussion. Lord Macaulay took part in the debate and spoke as follows:

The honorable member for Oldham tells us that the Jews are

naturally a mean race, a money-getting race; that they are averse

to all honorable callings; that they neither sow nor reap; that

they have neither flocks nor herds; that usury is the only pursuit

for which they are fit; that they are destitute of all elevated and

amiable sentiments.

Such, sir, has in every age been the reasoning of bigots. They

never fail to plead in justification of persecution the vices which

persecution has engendered. England has been legally a home to the

Jews less than half a century, and we revile them because they do

not feel for England more than a half patriotism.

We treat them as slaves, and wonder that they do not regard us as

brethren. We drive them to mean occupations, and then reproach them

for not embracing honorable professions. We long forbade them to

possess land, and we complain that they chiefly occupy themselves

in trade. We shut them out from all the paths of ambition, and then

we despise them for taking refuge in avarice.

During many ages we have, in our dealings with them, abused our

immense superiority of force, and then we are disgusted because

they have recourse to that cunning which to the natural and

universal defence of the weak against the violence of the strong.

But were they always a mere money-changing, money-getting,

money-hoarding race? Nobody knows better than my honorable friend,

the member for the University of Oxford, that there is nothing in

their national character which unfits them for the highest duties

of citizens.

He knows that, in the infancy of civilization, when our island was

as savage as New Guinea, when letters and art were still unknown to

Athens, when scarcely a thatched hut stood on what was afterwards

the site of Rome, this contemned people had their fenced cities and

cedar palaces, their splendid Temple, their fleets of merchant

ships, their schools of sacred learning, their great statesmen and

soldiers, their natural philosophers, their historians and their

poets.

What nation ever contended more manfully against overwhelming odds

for its independence and religion? What nation ever, in its last

agonies, gave such signal proofs of what may be accomplished by a

brave despair? And if, in the course of many centuries, the

depressed descendants of warriors and sages have degenerated from

the qualities of their fathers; if, while excluded from the

blessings of law and bowed down under the yoke of slavery, they

have contracted some of the vices of outlaws and slaves, shall we

consider this is a matter of reproach to them? Shall we not rather

consider it as a matter of shame and remorse to ourselves? Let us

do justice to them. Let us open to them the door of the House of

Commons. Let us open to them every career in which ability and

energy can be displayed. Till we have done this, let us not presume

to say that there is no genius among the countrymen of Isaiah, no

heroism among the descendants of the Maccabees.

If the persecutor of the Jew is not moved by the eloquence of Macaulay

or by the satire and sarcasm of Shakespeare, then let him call the roll

of Hebrew great names and watch the mighty procession as it moves.

Abraham among patriarchs; Moses among lawgivers; Isaiah and Jeremiah

among prophets; Philo, Maimonides, Spinoza, and Mendelsohn among

philosophers; Herschel, Sylvester, Jacobi, and Kronecker among

mathematicians and astronomers; Josephus, Neander, Graetz, Palgrave, and

Geiger among historians; Mendelssohn, Meyerbeer, Offenbach, Goldmark,

Joachim, Rubinstein, and Strauss among musicians; Sonnenthal, Possart,

Rachel, and Bernhardt among actors and actresses; Disraeli, Gambetta,

Castelar, Lasker, Crémieux, and Benjamin among statesmen; Halevi and

Heine among poets; Karl Marx and Samuel Gompers among labor leaders and

political economists; the Rothschilds, Bleichrörders, Schiffs, and

Seligmans among financiers; Auerbach and Nordau among novelists; Sir

Moses Montefiore and Baron Hirsch among philanthropists!

But there are no Cæsars, no Napoleons, no Shakespeares, no Aristotles

among them, you say? Maybe so; but what of that? Admitting that this is

true, is anything proved by the fact? These characters represented

mountain peaks of intellect, and were the isolated products of different

races and different centuries. It may be justly observed that, of their

kind, no others were comparable to them. But if the "mountain-peak"

theory is to govern as to the intellectuality of races, will it be

seriously contended that any one of the last-mentioned characters was

equal in either spiritual or intellectual grandeur to the Galilean

peasant, Jesus of Nazareth? If colossal forms of intellect and soul be

invoked, does not the Jew still lead the universe?

Jesus was the most perfect product of Jewish spiritual creation, the

most precious gem of human life. The most brilliant and civilized

nations of the earth worship Him as God, "manifest in the flesh,

justified by the Spirit, seen of angels, preached unto the Gentiles,

believed on in the world, received up into glory."[124]

Both skeptics and believers of all ages have alike pronounced His name

with reverence and respect. Even the flippant, sarcastic soul of

Voltaire was awed, softened and subdued by the sweetness of His life and

the majesty of His character.[125]

"If the life and death of Socrates are those of a sage," said Rousseau,

"the life and death of Jesus are those of a God."[126]

"Jesus of Nazareth," says Carlyle, "our divinest symbol! Higher has the

human thought not yet reached. A symbol of quite perennial, infinite

character, whose significance will ever demand to be anew inquired into,

and anew made manifest."[127]

"Jesus Christ," says Herder, "is in the noblest and most perfect sense,

the realized ideal of humanity."[128]

"He is," says Strauss, "the highest object we can possibly imagine with

respect to religion, the Being without whose presence in the mind

perfect piety is impossible."[129]

"The Christ of the Gospels," says Renan, "is the most beautiful

incarnation of God in the most beautiful of forms. His beauty is

eternal; His reign will never end."[130]

Max Nordau betrays secret Jewish pride in Jesus when he says: "Jesus is

soul of our soul, even as he is flesh of our flesh. Who, then, could

think of excluding him from the people of Israel? St. Peter will remain

the only Jew who has said of the Son of David, 'I know not the man.'

Putting aside the Messianic mission, this man is ours. He honors our

race, and we claim him as we claim the Gospels--flowers of Jewish

literature and only Jewish."

"Is it a truth," asks Keim, "or is it nothing but words, when this

virtuous God-allied human life is called the noblest blossom of a noble

tree, the crown of the cedar of Israel? A full vigorous life in a barren

time, a new building among ruins, an erect strong nature among broken

ones, a Son of God among the godless and the God-forsaken, one who was

joyous, hopeful, generous among those who were mourning and in despair,

a freeman among slaves, a saint among sinners--by this contradiction to

the facts of the time, by this gigantic exaltation above the depressed

uniformity of the century, by this compensation for stagnation,

retrogression, and the sickness of death in progress, health, force and

color of eternal youth--finally, by the lofty uniqueness of what he

achieved, of his purity, of his God-nearness--he produces, even with

regard to endless new centuries that have _through him_ been saved from

stagnation and retrogression, the impression of mysterious

solitariness, superhuman miracle, divine creation."[131]

"Between Him and whoever else in the world," said Napoleon at St.

Helena, "there is no possible term of comparison."[132]

Throughout Napoleonic literature two names constantly recur as

exhibiting the Corsican's ideals of spiritual and intellectual

perfection. These names are those of Jesus Christ and Julius Cæsar.

Napoleon's stupendous genius and incomprehensible destiny formed the

basis of a secret conviction within his soul that with Jesus and Cæsar

displaced, he himself would be the grandest ornament of history. But in

the mind of the emperor there was no element of equality or comparison

between Jesus and Cæsar. The latter he regarded as the crown and

consummation of Roman manhood, the most superb character of the ancient

world. The former he believed to be divine.

It was the custom of Napoleon while in exile at St. Helena to converse

almost daily about the illustrious men of antiquity and to compare them

with himself. On one occasion while talking upon his favorite theme with

an officer, one of the companions of his exile, he suddenly stopped and

asked: "But can you tell me who Jesus Christ was?" In reply, the officer

candidly confessed that he had never thought much about the Nazarene.

"Well, then," said Napoleon, "I will tell you." The illustrious captive

then compared Jesus with the heroes of antiquity and finally with

himself. The comparison demonstrated how paltry and contemptible was

everything human when viewed in the light of the divine character and

sublime achievements of the Man of Nazareth. "I think I understand

somewhat of human nature," said Napoleon, "and I tell you all these were

men, and I am a man, but not one is like Him; Jesus Christ was more than

man. Alexander, Cæsar, Charlemagne, and myself founded great empires;

but upon what did the creations of our genius depend? Upon force. Jesus

alone founded His empire upon love, and to this very day millions would

die for Him."[133]

We have every reason to believe that the homage paid the character of

Jesus by Napoleon was not merely the product of his brain, but was also

the humble tribute of his heart. When the disasters of the Russian

campaign broke upon his fortunes, when "the infantry of the snow and the

cavalry of the wild blast scattered his legions like winter's withered

leaves," the iron-hearted, granite-featured man who had "conquered the

Alps and had mingled the eagles of France with the eagles of the crags,"

only laughed and joked. But, while contemplating the life and death of

Jesus, he became serious, meditative and humble. And when he came to

write his last will and testament, he made this sentence the opening

paragraph: "I die in the Roman Catholic Apostolical religion, in the

bosom of which I was born more than fifty years ago."[134] The

Christianity of Napoleon has been questioned. It is respectfully

submitted that only an ungenerous criticism will attribute hypocrisy to

this final testimony of his religious faith. The imperial courage, the

grandeur of character, and the loftiness of life of the greatest of the

emperors negative completely the thought of insincerity in a declaration

made at a time when every earthly inducement to misrepresentation had

passed forever.

But Jesus was not the Christ, the Savior of warrior-kings alone, in the

hour of death. On the battlefield of Inkerman an humble soldier fell

mortally wounded. He managed to crawl to his tent before he died. When

found he was lying face downward with the open Bible beside him. His

right hand was glued with his lifeblood to Chapter XI., Verse 25 of St.

John. When the hand was lifted, these words, containing the ever-living

promise of the Master, could be clearly traced: "I am the resurrection

and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he

live."

PART II

_GRÆCO-ROMAN PAGANISM_

[Illustration: JUPITER (ANTIQUE SCULPTURE)]

CHAPTER I

GRÆCO-ROMAN PAGANISM

_Extent of the Roman Empire at the Time of Christ._--The policy of

ancient Rome was to extend and hold her possessions by force of arms.

She made demands; and if they were not complied with, she spurned the

medium of diplomacy and appealed for arbitrament to the god of battles.

Her achievements were the achievements of war. Her glories were the

glories of combat. Her trophies were the treasures of conquered

provinces and chained captives bowed in grief and shame. Her theory was

that "might makes right"; and in vindication and support of this theory

she imbued her youth with a martial spirit, trained them in the use of

arms from childhood to manhood, and stationed her legions wherever she

extended her empire. Thus, military discipline and the fortune of

successful warfare formed the basis of the prosperity of Rome.

At the period of which we write, her invincible legions had accomplished

the conquest of the civilized earth. Britain, Gaul, Spain, Italy,

Illyria, Greece, Asia Minor, Africa, Egypt, and the islands of the

Mediterranean--six hundred thousand square leagues of the most fertile

territory in the world--had been subdued to the Roman will and had

become obedient to Roman decrees. "The empire of the Romans," says

Gibbon, "filled the world, and when that empire fell into the hands of a

single person, the world became a safe and dreary prison for his

enemies. The slave of imperial despotism, whether he was compelled to

drag his gilded chain in Rome and the Senate, or to wear out a life of

exile on the barren rock of Seriphus, or on the frozen banks of the

Danube, expected his fate in silent despair. To resist was fatal, and it

was impossible to fly. On every side he was encompassed by a vast extent

of sea and land, which he could never hope to traverse without being

discovered, seized, and restored to his irritated master. Beyond the

frontiers, his anxious view could discover nothing, except the ocean,

inhospitable deserts, hostile tribes of barbarians, of fierce manners

and unknown language, or dependent kings who would gladly purchase the

emperor's protection by the sacrifice of an obnoxious fugitive.

'Wherever you are,' said Cicero to the exiled Marcellus, 'remember that

you are equally within the power of the conqueror.'"

In obedience to a universal law of development and growth, when the

Roman empire had reached the limits of physical expansion, when Roman

conquest was complete, when Roman laws and letters had reached

approximate perfection, and when Roman civilization had attained its

crown and consummation, Roman decline began. The birth of the empire

marked the beginning of the end. It was then that the shades of night

commenced to gather slowly upon the Roman world; and that the Roman ship

of state began to move slowly but inevitably, upon a current of

indescribable depravity and degeneracy, toward the abyss. The Roman

giant bore upon his shoulders the treasures of a conquered world; and

Bacchus-like, reeled, crowned and drunken, to his doom.

No period of human history is so marked by lust and licentiousness as

the history of Rome at the beginning of the Christian era. The Roman

religion had fallen into contempt. The family instinct was dead, and the

marital relation was a mockery and a shame. The humane spirit had

vanished from Roman hearts, and slavery was the curse of every province

of the empire. The destruction of infants and the gladiatorial games

were mere epitomes of Roman brutality and degeneracy. Barbarity,

corruption and dissoluteness pervaded every form of Roman life.

A perfect picture of the depravity of the times about which we write may

be had from a perusal of the Roman satirists, Tacitus and Juvenal. The

ordinary Roman debauchee was not the sole victim of their wrath. They

chiseled the hideous features of the Cæsars with a finer stroke than

that employed by Phidias and Praxiteles in carving statues of the

Olympic gods.

The purpose of Part II of this volume is to give coloring and atmosphere

to the picture of the trial and crucifixion of Jesus by describing: (1)

The Græco-Roman religion; and (2) the Græco-Roman social life, during

the century preceding and the century following the birth of the Savior.

1.--THE GRÆCO-ROMAN RELIGION

_Origin and Multiplicity of the Roman Gods._--The Romans acquired their

gods by inheritance, by importation, and by manufacture. The Roman race

sprang from a union of Etruscans, Latins, and Sabines; and the gods of

these different tribes, naturalized and adopted, were the first deities

of Rome. Chief among them were Janus, Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva. Other

early Roman deities were Sol, the Sun, and Luna the Moon, both of Sabine

origin; Mater Matuta, Mother of Day; Divus Pater Tiberinus, or Father

Tiber; Fontus, the god of fountains; Vesta, the goddess of the hearth;

and the Lares and Penates, household gods.

These primitive Italian divinities were at first mere abstractions,

simple nature-powers; but later they were Hellenized and received

plastic form. The Greeks and Romans had a common ancestry and the

amalgamation of their religions was an easy matter. The successive steps

in the process of blending the two forms of worship are historical. From

Cumæ, one of the oldest Greek settlements in Italy, the famous Sibylline

books found their way to Rome; and through these books the Greek gods

and their worship established themselves in Italy. The date of the

arrival of several of the Hellenic deities is well ascertained. The

first temple to Apollo was vowed in the year 351 A.U.C. To check a

lingering epidemic of pestilence and disease, the worship of Æsculapius

was introduced from Epidaurus into Rome in the year 463. In 549,

Cybele, the Idæan mother, was imported from Phrygia, in the shape of a

black stone, and was worshiped at Rome by order of the Sibylline books.

In various ways, the Hellenization of the Roman religion was

accomplished. The Decemviri, to whom the consulting of the Sibylline

books was intrusted, frequently interpreted them to mean that certain

foreign gods should be invited at once to take up their residence in

Rome.

The introduction of Greek literature also resulted in the importation of

Greek gods. The tragedies of Livius Andronicus and the comedies of

Nævius, founded upon Greek legends of gods and heroes, were presented in

Rome in the later years of the third century B.C. Fragments of Greek

literature also began to make their way into the Capital about this

time. Philosophers, rhetoricians, and grammarians flocked from Greece to

Italy and brought with them the works of Homer, Hesiod and the Greek

philosophers, whose writings were permeated with Greek mythology.

Grecian sculpture was as potent as Grecian literature in transforming

and Hellenizing the religion of Rome. The subjugation of the Greek

colonies in the south of Italy and the conquests of Greek cities like

Syracuse and Corinth in the East, brought together in Rome the

masterpieces of the Greek sculptors.

A determined effort was made from time to time by the patriotic Romans

to destroy Hellenic influence and to preserve in their original purity

early Roman forms of worship. But all attempts were futile. The average

Roman citizen, though practical and unimaginative, was still enamored of

the beautiful myths and exquisite statues of the Greek gods. And it was

only by Hellenizing their own deities that they could bring themselves

into touch and communion with the Hellenic spirit. The æsthetical and

fascinating influence of the Greek language, literature and sculpture,

was overwhelming. "At bottom, the Roman religion was based only on two

ideas--the might of the gods who were friendly to Rome, and the power of

the ceremonies over the gods. How could a religion, so poverty-stricken

of thought, with its troops of phantom gods, beingless shadows and

deified abstractions, remain unscathed and unaltered when it came in

contact with the profusion of the Greek religion, with its circle of

gods, so full of life, so thoroughly anthropomorphised, so deeply

interwoven into everything human?"[135]

Not only from Greece but from every conquered country, strange gods were

brought into Italy and placed in the Roman pantheon. When a foreign city

was besieged and captured, the Romans, after a preliminary ceremony,

invited the native gods to leave their temples and go to Rome where,

they were assured, they would have much grander altars and would receive

a more enthusiastic worship. It was a religious belief of the ancient

masters of the world that gods could be enticed from their allegiance

and induced to emigrate. In their foreign wars, the Romans frequently

kept the names of their own gods secret to prevent the enemy from

bribing them.

The gods at Rome increased in number just in proportion that the empire

expanded. The admission of foreign territory brought with it the

introduction of strange gods into the Roman worship.

When the Romans needed a new god and could not find a foreign one that

pleased them, they deliberately manufactured a special deity for the

occasion. In the breaking up and multiplication of the god-idea, they

excelled all the nations of antiquity. It was the duty of the pontiffs

to manufacture a divinity whenever an emergency arose and one was

needed. The god-casting business was a regular employment of the

Decemviri and the Quindecemviri; and a perusal of the pages of Roman

history reveals these god-makers actively engaged in their workshops

making some new deity to meet some new development in Roman life.

The extent of the polytheistic notions of the ancient Romans is almost

inconceivable to the modern mind. Not only were the great forces of

nature deified, but the simplest elements of time, of thought, and

action. Ordinary mental abstractions were clothed with the attributes of

gods. Mens (Mind), Pudicitia (Chastity), Pietas (Piety), Fides

(Fidelity), Concordia (Concord), Virtus (Courage), Spes (Hope), and

Voluptas (Pleasure), were all deities of the human soul, and were

enthusiastically worshiped by the Romans. A single human action was

frequently broken into parts each of which had a little god of its own.

The beginning of a marriage had one deity and its conclusion, another.

Cunina was the cradle-goddess of a child. Statilinus, Edusa, Potnia,

Paventia, Fabelinus and Catius were other goddesses who presided over

other phases of its infancy. Juventas was the goddess of its youth; and,

in case of loss of parents, Orbona was the goddess that protected its

orphanage.

Any political development in the Roman state necessitated a new divinity

to mark the change. In the early periods of their history, the Romans

used cattle as a medium of exchange in buying and bartering. Pecunia was

then the goddess of such exchange. But when, in later times, copper

money came into use, a god called Æsculanus was created to preside over

the finances; and when, still later, silver money began to be used, the

god Argentarius was called into being to protect the coinage. This

Argentarius was naturally the son of Æsculanus.

Not only the beneficent but the malign forces of nature were deified.

Pests, plagues, and tempests had their special divinities who were to be

placated. "There were particular gods for every portion of a

dwelling--the door, the threshold of the door, and even the hinges of

the door. There was a special god for each different class--even the

most menial and the most immoral; and a special divinity for those who

were afflicted in a peculiar manner, such as the childless, the maimed

or the blind. There was the god of the stable, and the goddess of the

horses; there were gods for merchants, artists, poets and tillers of the

soil. The gods must be invoked before the harvest could be reaped; and

not even a tree could be felled in the forest without supplicating the

unknown god who might inhabit it."[136]

The extreme of the Roman divinity-making process was the deification of

mere negative ideas. Tranquillitas Vacuna was the goddess of "doing

nothing."

Not only were special actions and peculiar ideas broken up and

subdivided with an appropriate divinity for each part or subdivision,

but the individual gods themselves were subdivided and multiplied. It is

said that there were three hundred Jupiters in Rome. This means that

Jupiter was worshiped under three hundred different forms. Jupiter

Pluvius, Jupiter Fulgurator, Jupiter Tonans, Jupiter Fulminator, Jupiter

Imbricitor, Jupiter Serenator, were only a few designations of the

supreme deity of the Romans.

It will thus be seen that polytheism was insatiable in its thirst for

new and strange gods. When the god-casting business was once begun,

there was no end to it. And when the Roman empire had reached its

greatest expansion, and Roman public and private life had attained to

complete development, the deities of the Roman religion were

innumerable. No pantheon could hold them, and no Roman could remember

the names of all. Temples of the gods were everywhere to be found

throughout the empire; and where there were no altars or temples,

certain trees, stones and rocks were decorated with garlands and

worshiped as sacred places which the gods were supposed to frequent.

Thus the Roman world became crowded with holy places, and the gods and

goddesses became an innumerable host. Petronius makes a countrywoman

from a district adjoining Rome declare that it was much easier to find a

god in her neighborhood than a man. We shall see that the multiplicity

of the gods was finally the cause of the decay and ruin of the Roman

religion.

_The Roman Priesthood._--The Roman priesthood was composed of several

orders of pontiffs, augurs, keepers of the Sibylline books, Vestal

virgins, epulos, salians, lupercals, etc.

Fifteen pontiffs exercised supreme control in matters of religion. They

were consecrated to the service of the gods; and all questions of

doubtful religious interpretation were submitted to the judgment of

their tribunal.

Fifteen learned and experienced augurs observed the phenomena of nature

and studied the flight of birds as a means of directing the actions of

the state.

Fifteen keepers of the Sibylline books read the pages of their treasures

and from them divined coming events.

Six Vestals, immaculate in their virginity, guarded the Roman sacred

fire, and presided at the national hearthstone of the Roman race.

Seven epulos conducted the solemn processions and regulated the

religious ceremonies at the annual festivals of the gods.

Fifteen flamens were consecrated to the service of separate deities.

Those of Jupiter, Mars, and Quirinus were held in the highest esteem.

The Flamen Dialis, or priest of Jupiter, was loaded down with religious

obligations and restrictions. He was not permitted to take an oath, to

ride, to have anything tied with knots on his person, to look at a

prisoner, see armed men, or to touch a dog, a goat, or raw flesh, or

yeast. He was not allowed to bathe in the open air; nor could he spend

the night outside the city. He could resign his office only on the death

of his wife. The Salians were priests of Mars, who, at festivals

celebrated in honor of the war-god, danced in heavy armor, and sang

martial hymns.

_Roman Forms of Worship._--Roman worship was very elaborate and

ceremonial. It consisted of sacrifices, vows, prayers, and festivals.

With the exception of the ancient Hebrews, the Romans were the greatest

formalists and ritualists of antiquity. Every act of Roman public and

private life was supposed to be framed in accordance with the will of

the gods. There was a formula of prayer adapted to every vicissitude of

life. Cæsar never mounted his chariot, it is said, that he did not

repeat a formula three times to avert dangers.

A painful exactness in the use of words was required in the offering of

a Roman prayer. A syllable left out or a word mispronounced, or the

intervention of any disturbing cause of evil import, would destroy the

merit of the formula. The Romans believed that the voice of prayer

should not be interrupted by noises or bad omens. And that the sound of

evil augury might not be heard at the moment of supplication, they were

in the habit of covering their ears. Musical notes of favorable import

were not objectionable, and frequently flutes were played while the

prayer was being offered to chase away disturbing sounds. At other

times, the priests had special assistants whose duty it was to maintain

silence during the recital of the formula. But, if the ceremony was

successful, if the language had been correctly pronounced, without the

omission or addition of a word; if all disturbing causes and things of

evil omen had been alienated from the services, then the granting of the

prayer was assured, regardless of the motive or intention of the person

praying. It should be remembered that piety and faith were not necessary

to the efficacy of Roman prayer. Ceremonial precision, rather than

purity of heart, was pleasing to the Roman gods. A peculiar element

entered into the religions of both the ancient Romans and the ancient

Hebrews. It was the principle of contract in an almost purely juristic

sense. Both the Romans and the Hebrews believed that if the divine law

was obeyed to the letter, their deities were under the strictest

obligation to grant their petitions.

Under the Roman form of worship, a peculiar act of supplication was

performed by the suppliant who kissed his right hand, turned round in a

circle by the right, and then seated himself upon the ground. This was

done in obedience to one of the laws of Numa. The circular movement of

the earth, it was thought, was symbolized by the turning round in a

circle; and the sitting down indicated that the suppliant was confidant

that his prayer would be granted.

The Romans believed that prayers were more efficacious if said in the

immediate presence and, if possible, in actual contact with the image of

the god. The doorkeepers of the temple were frequently besieged by

suppliants who begged to be admitted into the inclosures of the sacred

places where they might pray to the deity on the spot.

On account of the vast numbers of the gods, the Romans were sometimes at

a loss to know which one to address in prayer. Unlike the Greeks, they

had no preferences among their deities. Each was supplicated in his turn

according to the business in hand. But they were frequently in doubt as

to the name of the god who had control of the subject-matter of their

petitions. In such cases, the practical genius of the Roman people

served them well. They had recourse to several expedients which they

believed would insure success. When in doubt as to the particular

divinity which they should address in supplication, they would, at

times, invoke, in the first place, Janus, the god of all good

beginnings, the doorkeeper, so to speak, of the pantheon, who, it was

believed, would deliver the prayer to the proper deity. At other times,

in such perplexity, they would address their petitions to a group of

gods in which they knew the right one was bound to be. It sometimes

happened that they did not know whether the deity to be supplicated was

a god or goddess. In such an emergency, they expressed themselves very

cautiously, using the alternative proviso: "Be thou god or goddess." At

other times, in cases of extreme doubt, they prayed to all the deities

at once; and often, in fits of desperation, they dismissed the entire

pantheon and addressed their prayers to the Unknown God.

Another mode of propitiating the gods was by sacrifice. Animals, the

fruits of the fields, and even human beings were devoted to this

purpose. In the matter of sacrifice, the practical genius of the Roman

people was again forcibly manifested. They were tactful enough to adapt

the sacrifice to the whims and tastes of the gods. A provision of the

Twelve Tables was that "such beasts should be used for victims as were

becoming and agreeable to each deity." The framers of these laws

evidently believed that the gods had keenly whetted appetites and

discriminating tastes in the matter of animal sacrifice. Jupiter

Capitolinus was pleased with an offering of white cattle with gilded

horns, but would not accept rams or bulls. Mars, Neptune and Apollo

were, on the other hand, highly delighted with the sacrifice of bulls.

It was also agreeable to Mars to have horses, cocks, and asses

sacrificed in his honor. An intact heifer was always pleasing to the

goddess Minerva. A white cow with moon-shaped horns delighted Juno

Calendaris. A sow in young was sacrificed to the great Mother; and doves

and sparrows to Venus. Unweaned puppies were offered as victims of

expiation to the Lares and Penates. Black bulls were usually slaughtered

to appease the infernal gods.

The most careful attention was given to the selection of the victims of

sacrifice from the flocks and herds. Any serious physical defect in the

animal disqualified. A calf was not fit for slaughter if its tail did

not reach to the joint of the leg. Sheep with cloven tongues and black

ears were rejected. Black spots on a white ox had to be rubbed white

with chalk before the beast was available for sacrifice.

Not only animals were sacrificed, but human beings as well, to appease

the wrath of the gods in time of awful calamity. In early Roman history,

gray-headed men of sixty years were hurled from the Pons Sublicius into

the Tiber as an offering to Saturn. In the year 227 B.C., the pontiffs

discovered from the Sibylline books that the Gauls and Greeks were to

attack and capture the city. To fulfill the prophecy and, at the same

time to avert the danger, the senate decreed that a man and woman of

each of these two nations should be buried alive in the forum as a form

of constructive possession. This was nothing but a human sacrifice to

the gods.

Again, two of Cæsar's soldiers, who had participated in a riot in Rome,

were taken to the Campus Martius and sacrificed to Mars by the pontiffs

and the Flamen Martialis. Their heads were fixed upon the Regia, as was

the case in the sacrifice of the October-horse. As an oblation to

Neptune, Sextus Pompeius had live men and horses thrown into the sea at

the time when a great storm was destroying the fleet of the enemy.

A near approach to human sacrifice was the custom of sprinkling the

statue of Jupiter Latiaris with the blood of gladiators. A priest caught

the blood as it gushed from the wound of the dying gladiator, and dashed

it while still warm at the face of the image of the god.

Suetonius tells us that after the capture of Perugia, Augustus Cæsar

slaughtered three hundred prisoners as an expiatory sacrifice to Julius

Cæsar.

Thus at the beginning of the Christian era, human beings were still

being sacrificed on the altars of superstition.

_Ascertaining the Will of the Gods._--Various methods were employed by

the Romans in ascertaining the will of the gods. Chief among these were

the art of divination from the flight of birds and from the inspection

of the entrails of animals; also from the observation of lightning and

the interpretation of dreams. The Romans had no oracles like those of

the Greeks, but they frequently sent messengers to consult the Delphic

oracle.

Nothing is stranger or more disgusting in all the range of religious

history than the practice of the Roman haruspices. That the ancient

masters of the world should have felt themselves obliged to search in

the belly of a beast for the will of Jupiter is one of the abominable

enigmas of Pagan superstition. The inspection of the entrails of victims

was a Tuscan science, early imported from Etruria, and naturalized at

Rome. Tuscan haruspices accompanied the Roman armies everywhere, and

determined by their skill whether a battle should be fought or a retreat

ordered. When it was doubtful what to do, an animal was slaughtered, and

the heart, lungs, liver, tongue, spleen, kidneys and caul were closely

inspected with the aid of a small needle or knife. Various conditions

and appearances of these parts were considered as signs of the pleasure

or disfavor of the gods. Largely developed veins on the adverse side

were considered tokens of extreme displeasure and an indication of

pending misfortune. It was also considered gravely ominous when the head

or protuberance in the right lobe of the liver was wanting. The Romans

were too practical and indomitable, however, to allow a single bad omen

to frustrate a great enterprise. If the inspection of the entrails of

the first animal was not favorable, they slaughtered still others until

a propitious sign was observed. At times, a score of beasts were slain

before the gods gave assent to the enterprise in hand.

Divination from the flight and notes of birds was another method

employed by the Romans in finding out the will of the gods. And it may

be remarked that this was certainly a more rational and elevated form of

divination than that which we have just discussed. An eagle swooping

down from the skies would certainly be a more natural and pleasing

suggestion of the thoughts and attributes of Jove than the filthy

interior of the entrails of a bull.

The elements of divination from the flight of birds were derived either

from the significant notes and sounds of their voices, or from the

manner in which their wings were flapped or their flight conducted. If

the bird flew from the left to the right of the augur, it was considered

a happy omen; if the flight was in the opposite direction, the

enterprise in hand had to be abandoned or at least delayed. Augury by

flight was usually applied to eagles and vultures, while woodpeckers,

ravens, crows, and screech owls announced the will of the gods by note.

The direction from which the note came, usually determined the nature of

the augury. But, in the case of the screech owl, the sounds were always

of evil omen, from whatever side they came. And those who have been so

unfortunate as to hear its mournful, desolate and God-forsaken tones

will not be disposed to censure either the Romans or their gods for the

low esteem in which they held this bird.

Again, it was a principle of Roman augury that auspices could be

neutralized or overcome. If a crow furnished an omen, and an eagle gave

another which was opposed to it, the first sign was wiped out, because

the eagle was a larger and nobler bird than the crow. And, as in the

case of prayer, so also in the matter of the auspices, a disturbing

sound would destroy the effect of the augury. The squeak or cry of a

mouse would destroy a message from Jupiter conveyed in the scream of an

eagle.

But the most potent manifestation of the divine mind, among the ancient

Romans, was that derived from thunder and lightning. Lightning to them

was the sovereign expression of the will of the gods; and a single flash

blotted out every other sign and token. It was an irrevocable presage

and could not be remotely modified or evaded. It came directly from the

hand of the deity and was an emphatic revelation of the divine mind. All

places struck by lightning were considered sacred and were consecrated

to the god who had sent the bolt. Upon the spot where it fell, an altar

was raised and an inclosure formed. The service of consecration

consisted in burying the lightning, that is, in restoring the earth

thrown up by it, and in the sacrifice of a two-year-old sheep. All such

places were considered hallowed spots and it was impious and

sacrilegious to touch them or even look at them. The gods deprived of

reason those who destroyed the altars and sacred inclosures of these

places.

These various methods of ascertaining the will of the deities were

employed in every important transaction of Roman public and private

life. At times, all of them coöperated on occasions of vast import and

when the lives and destinies of great men were involved.

The following single paragraph from Suetonius contains allusions to all

the modes of divination which we have just discussed:

After the death of Cæsar, upon his return from Apollonia as he was

entering the city, on a sudden, in a clear and bright sky a circle

resembling the rainbow surrounded the body of the sun; and

immediately afterwards, the tomb of Julia, Cæsar's daughter, was

struck by lightning. In his first consulship whilst he was

observing the auguries, twelve vultures presented themselves as

they had done to Romulus. And when he offered sacrifice, the livers

of all the victims were folded inward in the lower part; a

circumstance which was regarded by those present, who had skill in

things of that nature, as an indubitable prognostic of great and

wonderful fortune.[137]

The interpretation of dreams also formed an important part in the

determination of the will of the gods, not only among the Romans, but

among all ancient nations. The literature of antiquity, both sacred and

profane, is filled with dreams. Whether the biographer is Matthew or

Plutarch, dreams appear on the pages of both. Chrysippus made a

collection of prophetical dreams in order to explain their meaning. Both

Galen and Hippocrates believed that dreams were sent by the gods to men.

Artemidorus wrote a treatise on the subject, and in it he assures us

that it was compiled at the express bidding and under the direction of

Apollo himself.

It was in a dream that Joseph was warned not to put away Mary his

wife.[138] It was also in a dream that an angel voice warned him to flee

into Egypt with the infant Savior to escape the murderous designs of

Herod.[139] Nearly every great event, both in Greek and Roman history,

seems to have been heralded or attended by dreams. The following account

is given by Suetonius of the dreams of Quintus Catulus and Marcus Cicero

presaging the reign of Augustus:

Quintus Catulus had a dream, for two nights successively after his

dedication of the Capitol. The first night he dreamt that Jupiter

out of several boys of the order of the nobility who were playing

about his altar, selected one, into whose bosom he put the public

seal of the commonwealth, which he held in his hand; but in his

vision the next night, he saw in the bosom of Jupiter Capitolinus,

the same boy; whom he ordered to be removed, but it was forbidden

by the God, who declared that it must be brought up to become the

guardian of the state. The next day, meeting Augustus, with whom

till that hour he had not the least acquaintance, and looking at

him with admiration, he said he was extremely like the boy he had

seen in his dream. Some gave a different account of Catulus's

first dream, namely that Jupiter, upon several noble lads

requesting of him that they might have a guardian, had pointed to

one amongst them, to whom they were to prefer their requests; and

putting his fingers to the boy's mouth to kiss, he afterwards

applied them to his own.

Marcus Cicero, as he was attending Caius Cæsar to the Capitol,

happened to be telling some of his friends a dream which he had the

preceding night, in which he saw a comely youth let down from

heaven by a golden chain, who stood at the door of the Capitol, and

had a whip put into his hands by Jupiter. And immediately upon

sight of Augustus, who had been sent for by his uncle Cæsar to the

sacrifice, and was as yet perfectly unknown to most of the company,

he affirmed that it was the very boy he had seen in his dream. When

he assumed the manly toga, his senatorian tunic becoming loose in

the seam on each side, fell at his feet. Some would have this to

forebode, that the order of which that was the badge of

distinction, would some time or other be subject to him.[140]

Omens also played an important rôle in molding the destiny of the Roman

state. In his "Life of Cæsar Augustus," Suetonius says:

Some signs and omens he regarded as infallible. If in the morning,

his shoe was put on wrong, the left instead of the right, that

boded some disaster. If when he commenced a long journey, by land

or sea, there happened to fall a mizzling rain, he held it to be a

good sign of a speedy and happy return. He was much affected

likewise with anything out of the common course of nature. A

palm-tree which chanced to grow up between some stones in the court

of his house, he transplanted into a court where the images of the

Household Gods were placed, and took all possible care to make it

thrive. In the island of Capri, some decayed branches of an old

ilex, which hung drooping to the ground, recovered themselves upon

his arrival; at which he was so delighted, that he made an

exchange with the Republic of Naples, of the Island of Ischia, for

that of Capri. He likewise observed certain days; as never to go

from home the day after the Numdinæ, nor to begin any serious

business upon the nones; avoiding nothing else in it, as he writes

to Tiberius, than its unlucky name.[141]

Any unusual happening and all the striking phenomena of nature were

regarded by the Romans as prodigies or omens indicative of the will of

the gods. The nature of the occurrence indicated the pleasure or the

wrath of the deity. An eclipse of the sun and the moon, a shooting star,

a rainbow of peculiar color, showers of stones and ashes, were regarded

as awful prodigies, and generally threw the Roman Senate into a panic.

On such occasions, the pontifical college called a hurried meeting. The

augurs and haruspices were summoned to immediate duty; and everything

was done to ascertain the will of the gods and to do their bidding. A

two-headed snake or a three-legged chicken, such as we frequently see

to-day, would have shaken the whole Roman religious system to the

center.

Such was the credulity of the Roman people, that the most improbable and

impossible stories, mere rumors born of lying imposture, were heard and

believed. "Idols shed tears or sweated blood, oxen spoke, men were

changed into women, cocks into hens, lakes or brooks ran with blood or

milk, mice nibbled at the golden vessels of the temples, a swarm of bees

lighted on a temple or in a public place." All such alleged occurrences

required sacrifices and expiatory rites to conquer the fury and regain

the favor of the gods.

_Fall of the Early Roman Religion._--At the beginning of the Christian

era, the old Roman religion, founded upon the institutions of Numa, had

almost come to an end. The invasion of Italy by the Greek gods was the

first serious assault upon the early Roman faith. The elegant refinement

and fascinating influence of Greek literature, philosophy and sculpture,

had incrusted with a gorgeous coating the rude forms of the primitive

Roman worship. But, as time advanced, the old gods grew stale and new

deities were sought. The human soul could not forever feed upon myths,

however brilliant and bewitching. The mysterious and melancholy rites of

Isis came to establish themselves by the side of those of Janus and

Æsculapius. The somber qualities of the Egyptian worship seemed to

commend it. Even so good and grand a man as Marcus Aurelius avowed

himself an adorer of Serapis; and, during a sojourn in Egypt, he is

reported to have conducted himself like an Egyptian citizen and

philosopher while strolling through the temples and sacred groves on the

banks of the Nile.[142]

The effect of the repeated changes from one form of religious faith to

another was to gradually destroy the moral fiber of Roman worship and to

shatter Roman faith in the existence and stability of the gods. The

first manifestation of that disintegration which finally completely

undermined and destroyed the temple of Roman worship was the familiarity

with which the Romans treated their gods. Familiarity with gods, as

with men, breeds contempt. A striking peculiarity of both the Roman and

Greek mythologies was the intimate relationship that existed between

gods and human beings. Sometimes it took the form of personal

intercourse from which heroes sprang, as was the case with Jupiter and

Alcmene, of whom Hercules was born. At other times, deities and human

beings traveled together on long voyages, as was the case with Minerva

and Telemachus on their trip to the island of Calypso. These were

instances of what the Greeks regarded as that natural and sympathetic

relationship that not only could but should exist between them and their

divinities. But in time the Romans entered upon a career of frivolous

fellowship and familiarity with their gods which destroyed their mutual

respect, and hastened the dissolution of the bonds that had hitherto

held them together. They began to treat their divinities as men,

deserving of honor indeed, but nevertheless human beings with all the

frailties and attributes of mortals. "Arnobius speaks of morning

serenades sung with an accompaniment of fifes, as a kind of reveille to

the sleeping gods, and of an evening salutation, in which leave was

taken of the deity with the wishing him a good night's rest."

The Lectisternia or banquets of the gods were ordinary religious

functions to which the deities themselves were invited. These feasts

were characterized at times by extreme exclusiveness. It was not right,

thought the Romans, to degrade and humiliate the greater gods by seating

them at the banquet board with smaller ones. So, a right royal fête was

annually arranged in the Capitol in honor of Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva.

The statue of the great god was placed reclining on a pillow; and the

images of the two goddesses were seated upon chairs near him. At other

times, the functions were more democratic, and great numbers of the gods

were admitted, as well as a few select and distinguished mortals. On

such occasions, the images of the gods were placed in pairs on cushions

near the table. The Romans believed that the spirit of the god actually

inhabited or occupied the statue. This we learn from Lucian. The happy

mortals who were fortunate enough to be present at the banquet, actually

believed that they were seated among the gods. Livy tells us that once

the gods turned on their cushions and reversed themselves at the table,

and that mice then came and devoured the meats.[143]

The Roman historians very seriously inform us that special invitations

were extended the gods to attend these banquets. They fail to tell us,

however, whether R.S.V.P. or any other directions were inserted in the

cards of invitation. We are left completely in the dark as to the

formality employed by the deities to indicate their acceptance or

rejection of the proffered honor.

The purpose of the Lectisternia was at first undoubtedly to promote

hospitality and fellowship, and to conciliate the good will of the gods.

But finally such intimacy ripened into contempt and all kinds of

indecencies began to be practiced against the deities. Speaking of the

actions of certain Romans, Seneca says: "One sets a rival deity by the

side of another god; another shows Jupiter the time of day; this one

acts the beadle, the other the anointer, pretending by gesture to rub in

the ointment. A number of coiffeurs attend upon Juno and Minerva, and

make pretence of curling with their fingers, not only at a distance from

their images, but in the actual temple. Some hold the looking-glass to

them; some solicit the gods to stand security for them; while others

display briefs before them, and instruct them in their law cases." This

rude conduct was practiced by men. But Seneca, continuing, says: "Women,

too, take their seats at the Capitol pretending that Jupiter is enamored

of them, and not allowing themselves to be intimidated by Juno's

presence."[144]

_Roman Skepticism._--Of contempt of the gods, which was due to many

causes, skepticism was born. The deities of every race had been brought

to Rome and placed in the pantheon; and there, gazing into each other's

faces, had destroyed each other. The multiplicity of the gods was the

chief agency in the destruction of the Roman faith and ritual. The yoke

and burden of endless ceremonials had been borne for centuries and were

now producing intolerable irritation and nauseating disgust. The natural

freedom of the soul was in open rebellion and revolt against the hollow

forms and rigid exactions of the Roman ritual. The eagle of the human

intellect was already preparing to soar above the clouds of

superstition. Cicero gave expression to the prevalent sentiments of

educated Romans of his day when he wrote:

I thought I should be doing an immense benefit both to myself and

to my countrymen if I could entirely eradicate all superstitious

errors. Nor is there any fear that true religion can be endangered

by the demolition of this superstition; for as this religion which

is united with the knowledge of nature is to be propagated, so,

also, are all the roots of superstition to be destroyed; for that

presses upon and pursues and persecutes you wherever you turn

yourself, whether you consult a diviner or have heard an omen or

have immolated a victim, or beheld a flight of birds; whether you

have seen a Chaldæan or a soothsayer; if it lightens or thunders,

or if anything is struck by lightning; if any kind of prodigy

occurs; some of which things must be frequently coming to pass, so

that you can never rise with a tranquil mind.

The completion of Roman conquest in the reign of Augustus was another

potent influence in the destruction of the old Roman religion. The chief

employment of the Roman gods had ever been as servants of the Roman

state in the extension of the Roman empire. Their services were now no

longer needed in this regard, and their ancient worshipers were ready to

repudiate and dismiss them. The Hebrew characteristic of humility and

resignation in the presence of divine displeasure was not a Roman trait.

The ancient masters of the world reserved the right to object and even

to rebel when the gods failed to do their duty after appropriate prayers

had been said and proper ceremonies had been performed. Sacrilege, as

the result of disappointment, was a frequent occurrence in Roman

religious life. Bitter defiance of the heavenly powers sometimes

followed a defeat in battle or a failure in diplomacy. Augustus, as

supreme pontiff, chastised Neptune, the god of the sea, because he lost

his fleet in a storm, by forbidding the image of the god to be carried

in the procession of the next Circensian games. The emperor Julian was

regarded as a most pious potentate, but he did not hesitate to defy the

gods when he became displeased. At the time of the Parthian war, he was

preparing to sacrifice ten select and beautiful bulls to Mars the

Avenger, when nine of them suddenly lay down while being led to the

altar, and the tenth broke his band. The fury of the monarch was

aroused, and he swore by Jupiter that he would not again offer a

sacrifice to Mars.[145] Claudius, the commander of the Roman fleet at

Drepanum, ordered the sacred pullets to be thrown into the sea because

they would not eat. When Germanicus was sick in Asia, his devoted

admirers offered frequent prayers to the gods for his recovery. When the

report of his death reached Rome, the temples of the unaccommodating

deities were stoned, and their altars were overturned.[146]

The same feeling of angry resentment and defiance may be discerned in

inscriptions on the graves of relatives prematurely snatched away by

death. An epitaph on the monument of a child of five years was this: "To

the unrighteous gods who robbed me of my life." Another on the tombstone

of a maiden of twenty, named Procope, read as follows: "I lift my hand

against the god who has deprived me of my innocent existence."[147]