to popular seditions. It sought to put down religious
enthusiasts, rightly foreseeing that by their excited
preachings they would lead to the total ruin of the
nation. Although the excitement created by Jesus
was in nowise temporal, the priests saw, as an ultimate
consequence of this agitation, an aggravation of the
Roman yoke and the overturning of the temple, the
source of their riches and honors.[2] Certainly the
causes which, thirty-seven years after, were to effect
the ruin of Jerusalem, did not arise from infant Christianity.
They arose in Jerusalem itself, and not in Galilee.
We cannot, however, say that the motive alleged in
this circumstance by the priests was so improbable
that we must necessarily regard it as insincere.
In a general, sense, Jesus, if he had succeeded, would
have really effected the ruin of the Jewish nation.
According to the principles universally admitted by
all ancient polity, Hanan and Kaiapha were right in
saying: “Better the death of one man than
the ruin of a people!” In our opinion this reasoning
is detestable. But it has been that of conservative
parties from the commencement of all human society.
The “party of order” (I use this expression
in its mean and narrow sense) has ever been the same.
Deeming the highest duty of government to be the prevention
of popular disturbances, it believes it performs an
act of patriotism in preventing, by judicial murder,
the tumultuous effusion of blood. Little thoughtful
of the future, it does not dream that in declaring
war against all innovations, it incurs the risk of
crushing ideas destined one day to triumph. The
death of Jesus was one of the thousand illustrations
of this policy. The movement he directed was
entirely spiritual, but it was still a movement; hence
the men of order, persuaded that it was essential
for humanity not to be disturbed, felt themselves
bound to prevent the new spirit from extending itself.
Never was seen a more striking example of how much
such a course of procedure defeats its own object.
Left free, Jesus would have exhausted himself in a
desperate struggle with the impossible. The unintelligent
hate of his enemies decided the success of his work,
and sealed his divinity.
[Footnote 1: John xi. 49, 50. Cf. ibid.,
xviii. 14.]
[Footnote 2: John xi. 48.]
The death of Jesus was thus resolved upon from the
month of February or the beginning of March.[1] But
he still escaped for a short time. He withdrew
to an obscure town called Ephraim or Ephron, in the
direction of Bethel, a short day’s journey from
Jerusalem.[2] He spent a few days there with his disciples,
letting the storm pass over. But the order to
arrest him the moment he appeared at Jerusalem was
given. The feast of the Passover was drawing
nigh, and it was thought that Jesus, according to
his custom, would come to celebrate it at Jerusalem.[3]
[Footnote 1: John xi. 53.]
[Footnote 2: John xi. 54. Cf. 2 Chron.
xiii. 19; Jos., B.J., IV. ix. 9; Eusebius and
St. Jerome, De situ et nom. loc. hebr., at the
words [Greek: Ephron] and [Greek: Ephraim].]