His Father in heaven and himself are one, and yet they differ in this. So he was your friend, Joseph? If I had known it there would have been an additional reason for my trying to save him from the hatred of the Jews; for I hate the Jews, and would willingly leave them to-morrow. But they cried out: you are not Caesar’s friend; this man would set up a new kingdom and overthrow the Romans; and, as I have already told you, Joseph, I asked Jesus if he claimed to be King of the Jews, but he answered me: you have said it, adding, however, that his kingdom was not of this world. Evasive answers of that kind are worthless when a mob is surging round the Praetorium. A hateful crowd they looked to me; a cruel, rapacious, vindictive crowd, with nothing in their minds but hatred. I suspect they hated him for religious reasons. You Jews are—forgive me, Joseph, you are an exception among your people—a bitter, intolerant race. You would not allow me to bring the Roman eagles to Jerusalem, for you cannot look upon graven things. All the arts you have abolished, and your love of God resolves itself into hatred of men; so it seems to me. It would have pleased me very well indeed to have thwarted the Jews in their desire for this man’s life, but I was threatened by a revolt, and the soldiers at my command are but auxiliaries, and not in sufficient numbers to quell a substantial riot. I will tell you more: if the legion that I was promised had arrived from Caesarea the lust of the Jews for the blood of those that disagree with them would not have been satisfied. I went so far as to send messengers to inquire for the legion. But the man is dead now, and further talking will not raise him into life again. You have come to ask me for his body, and you would bury it in your own tomb. It is like you, Joseph, to wish to honour your dead friend. Methinks you are more Roman than Jew. Say not so in the hearing of my countrymen, Joseph replied, or I may meet my death for your good opinion.