wonderful cures has reached the ends of the earth, and who is often
followed by such a crush that to reach him an opening has to be made
in the ceiling of the house where he is stopping; who goes in and out
before the people and is constantly disputing with the elders and
leaders of the nation--is, nevertheless, represented as being so
unknown that his enemies have to resort to the device of bribing with
thirty silver coins one of his disciples to point him out to them, and
which is to be done by a kiss. This might make a great scene upon the
stage, but it is not the way things happen in life.

Then read how Jesus is carried before Pilate the Roman governor, and
how while he is being tried a courier rushes in with a letter from
Pilate's wife which is dramatically torn open and read aloud in the
presence of the crowded court. The letter, it is said, was about a
dream of Pilate's wife, in which some ghost tells her that Jesus is
innocent, and that her husband should not proceed against him. Is this
history? Roman jurisprudence had not degenerated to that extent as to
permit the dreams of a woman or of a man to influence the course of
justice. But this letter episode was invented by the playwright--if I
may use the phrase--to prolong the dramatic suspense, to complicate
the situation, to twist the plot, and thereby render the impression
produced by his "piece" more lasting. The letter and the dream did not
save Jesus. Pilate was not influenced by his dreaming wife. She
dreamed in vain.

In the next place we hear Pilate pronouncing Jesus guiltless; but,
forthwith, he hands him over to the Jews to be killed. Does this read
like history? Did ever a Roman court witness such a trial? To
pronounce a man innocent and then to say to his prosecutors: "If you
wish to kill him, you may do so," is extraordinary conduct. Then,