But what design, what real end was carrying on all this while? Why, the Gentleman tells us, that the very thing disclaimed, the temporal kingdom, was the real thing aimed at under this disguise. He told the people there was no foundation to expect a temporal deliverer, warned them against all who would set up those pretensions; he declared there was no ground from the ancient prophecies to expect such a prince: and yet by these very means he was working his way to an opportunity of declaring himself to be the very prince the people wanted. We are still upon the marvelous; every step opens new wonders. I blame not the Gentleman; for what but this can be imagined to give any account of these measures imputed to Christ? Be this never so unlikely, yet this is the only thing that can be said. Had Christ been charged with enthusiasm, it would not have been necessary to assign a reason for his conduct: madness is unaccountable: Ratione modoque tractari non vult. But when design, cunning, and fraud are made the charge, and carried to such an height, as to suppose him to be a party to the contrivance of a sham resurrection for himself, it is necessary to say to what end this cunning tended. It was, we are told, to a kingdom: and indeed the temptation was little enough, considering that the chief conductor of the plot was crucified for his pains. But were the means made use of at all probable to achieve the end? Yes, says the Gentleman, that can’t be disputed; for they had really this effect, the people would have made him King. Very well: Why was he not King then? Why, it happened unluckily that he would not accept the offer, but withdrew himself from the multitude, and lay concealed until they were dispersed. It will be said, perhaps, that Jesus was a better judge of affairs than the people, and saw that it was not yet time to accept the offer. Be it so; let us see then what follows.
The government was alarmed, and Jesus was looked on as a person dangerous to the state; and he had discernment enough to see that his death was determined and inevitable. What does he do then? Why, to make the best of a bad case, and to save the benefit of his undertaking to those who were to succeed him, he pretends to prophecy of his death, which he knew could not be avoided: Men do not use to play tricks in articulo mortis; but this plot had nothing common, nothing in the ordinary way. But what if it should appear, that after the foretelling of his death (through despair of his fortunes it is said) he had it in his power to set up for King once more, and once more refused the opportunity? Men in despair lay hold on the least help, and never refuse the greatest. Now, the case was really so. After he had foretold his crucifixion, he came to Jerusalem in the triumphant manner the Gentleman mentioned; the people strewed his way with boughs and flowers, and were all at his devotion; the Jewish governors lay still for fear