University of Virginia Library

3. III.

The scene has passed; and I am again returned
to my apartment and my tablets, to describe
to you all that has happened.

The Hall of Judgment, as the Cæsareans
term that building, where the Roman Governor
hears and judges those causes which come before
him, stands not far from the palace of Herod,
and, indeed, although it faces in an opposite
direction, and is separated apparently from it, is
yet connected with it by covered and secret passages,
so that communication can be quickly
made from one to the other. Pilate, they say
here, being ever fearful lest some revenge, either
public or private, should be taken upon him for
his violences committed against communities or
individuals, contrived these and divers other
secret methods of escape from one building to
another, and from one part of the city to
another. The building is not, however, like
the palace, of marble, and of the like elegance
in its design and ornaments; it is, on the other
hand, constructed of a dark and gloomy stone,

and though grand in its form and proportions,
cannot boast of what is properly termed beautiful.
As I now drew near, I perceived that on
all sides it was encompassed by crowds of people,
waiting for the coming of the Jews, and
what was to follow. The whole city seemed
to have come together into one place. I was
apprehensive lest owing to the multitude I
should find it impossible to force myself within
the building; for it appeared to me certain, that
if so many were without, the space within must
be more than filled. I thought it hardly worth
my while to proceed, and had paused, that I
might, at least, perhaps, by remaining where I
was, witness the approach of the Jews, and the
manner in which they would be received by
so great a concourse of citizens, when I was
suddenly saluted by the philosopher Zeno, from
whom I had been parted but for a short time.
He had evidently, by too fast walking, lost his
breath, for he could utter himself only, as it
were, piece-meal — a great evil to one whose
usual speech is like the running of a wine
cask.

“How now, my Jew of Rome,” cried he,
“how think you your friends are to come up
with you at your rate of walking? He who
ran for help from Athens to Lacedæmon —
Phi —”

“Phidippides.”

“Ah, that is it — Phidippides — Phidippides
ran not so fast. It is well you halted as you
did, else had you lost my salutation and my
company.”

“Your company,” said I, “I fear still I must
lose; for owing to the numbers who are pressing
into this narrow space, and are already in advance
of me, I have resolved to return whence
I came, though I shall miss much that I had
hoped to witness.”

“Now shalt thou acknowledge, Jew,” cried
he, “that there is, for once, use and virtue in a
Greek. Follow me; and though thou shalt not
get on at the pace of Phidippides, we shall arrive
soon enough. So lay hold of my gown
and come on. There is not a blind alley, or a
covered way, or a secret entrance in Cæsarea
that 's not known to me, which is one advantage
that accrueth as a consequence of having
nothing to do.”

So saying, he led the way, and threading
his passage among the throngs, at length
emerged into a bye way wholly clear of the
populace. — Passing through this, I perceived
that we had approached very near to the rear of
the principal building; then, by now descending,
and again ascending, enveloped now in
darkness, then suddenly coming again to the

light, meeting and seeing but few, and those
apparently officials of the place, who all smiled
and nodded to my companion as knowing him
well, we came forth, at length, upon the broad
paved area of the chief entrance; when, ascending
a magnificent flight of steps, crowded with
others rapidly moving in the same direction, we
soon stood within the walls of the Judgment
Hall more properly so called, being the vast
apartment in which Pilate sits to hear whatever
causes may be brought before him. With the
knowledge of one who is familiar with such
places, Zeno, immediately upon gaining the
floor, pointed to the spot where we could both
hear and see to the greatest advantage, and
which none as yet had seized upon. Whereupon,
we without delay secured it.

“These people,” said Zeno, “though now
apparently so quiet and peaceable, yet require
not much to be said or done, to throw them
into a ferment of passion, and mingle them in
bitter fight. The Greeks have bound themselves
together by oaths, not to forego their end,
if it can be gained by any means which are
within their reach. They are too many for
you Jews, even though you were all of one
mind; but as I hear and know, you are divided
into parties which are little less hostile toward
each other, than any or all of you are toward

the Greeks. This will make their victory easy.
Pilate, too, is with them.”

Zeno was interrupted in his talk, which
flows otherwise with a perpetual stream, by the
stir occasioned by the approach and entrance of
the deputation of the Jews. Their priests
came at their head, clothed in the usual garments
of the service, followed by Sylleus and
those of the Herodians who had been selected
to accompany and support him. It was among
those who entered last, that I observed Philip,
Simon, and Eleazer. Immediately upon this,
Pilate, from an opposite entrance, made his
appearance, and advanced to his chair of state,
on either side of which were ranged his friends,
the officers of his household, his secretaries,
heralds, and soldiers.

The aspect of this man is cold and dark.
His countenance is bloodless, his eyes restless,
near together, and set deep beneath his
brows, which are straight and black. The
features are very fixed, and more as if they
were made of stone than of flesh. He neither
smiles, nor gives evidence, on the surface, of
any other emotion, either agreeable or painful;
but maintains one rigid sameness of expression,
except that at times a shadow so deep as to
seem cast by an external object, but in truth
proceeding from some terrible inward commotion

lends to his face the darkness and terrors
of night and death. He appears, for the most
part, like one withdrawn from what is immediately
before him, and brooding in secret upon
some deep design. This appearance I may
have seen in him, indeed, from first knowing
his character; which for a selfish rapacity, and
a heartless disregard of the rights and the lives
of those who come within his power, has made
him to be noted, not only here in the East, but
at Rome also. I thought him to be one, as I
observed him, into whose hands I should unwillingly
fall; who would not, perhaps, indeed, injure
or slay so much from feelings of wanton
cruelty, as from a cold indifference to the life
of another; just as there are those who will not,
truly, go out of their way to crush an insect, but
will not turn aside the breadth of a hair, if one
should perchance lie in their path; and those
who, if through some error, they have been the
cause of innocent lives being destroyed will
enjoy none the less their next hour's rest,
or their next cup of wine. This also appeared
to be the truth as to his character, from what,
at this audience, I was able to observe.

No sooner had he taken his seat and looked
round upon the suppliants before him, than he
said with abruptness;

“Why is it that again, with a strange and

foolish obstinacy, Jews of Cæsarea, ye seek my
judgment seat? Do you think to change my
mind, by this new embassy? Think you to
gain anything by setting the whole city in an
uproar? Who speaks for you?”

One of the priests replied, “Sylleus, noble
Governor, the Herodian Sylleus is set to plead
for us.”

“Why not the Roman Sylleus? Methinks
it became you more to have among you a sect
of Romans than of Herodians. Belonging to
Rome, it were well that some of you, at least,
bore the name.”

“The name comes not,” replied humbly
the same priest, “chiefly from Antipas of
Galilee, but as much from his great father.”

“Ah, well, that is better. There were
little honor in coming of him of Galilee.
Where is this Sylleus? let him say on, and
let him be brief. A cause heard twice, may be
heard quickly. Let Sylleus the Herodian declare
himself.”

Whereupon Sylleus rose, and stood before
Pilate; and after much fawning, and a long
exordium of swollen flatteries, he was about to
enter upon somewhat more pertinent, when
Pilate's impatience broke forth in a stern rebuke;
—

“Cease, Sylleus, to praise. We are Governor

here in Cæsarea, we know; and the right
arm of Cæsar. Tell us not of that with which
we are already well acquainted, but come at
once to the matter in hand.”

“Most noble Pilate,” then began Sylleus
again, “we are fain to seek thy great presence
once more, for that we are well convinced,
that when before we stood in this place, the
people of the Jews, who are ever desirous to
demean themselves as good citizens, were not
represented by those who could or would make
known to you the real sentiments of devotion
to Cæsar, which fill the bosoms of our nation
generally, and more especially of the inhabitants
of this great Capital. They spake, so we
judge, not so much as suitors for a favor, as
after the manner of those who stood to enforce
what they wished. Verily, their words were
more those of the foes, than the friends of
Rome. They spake too sharply of their rights,
and of Rome's duty to her far off provinces,
whom, said they, she is bound to protect, and
defend against aggression, specially when aimed
at their religion, which it hath ever been the
custom of Rome to respect and secure to her
subjects. Whatever truth, noble Pilate, there
may be in such things, we name them not, but
rather come pleading our friendship and affection
for Rome, and asking to be held by her as

lovers and children. It was the Great Herod
who first taught our people to seek their country's
prosperity no longer, in separating themselves
so far from others in their manners, laws,
and worship, but in mingling with the people
of every nation, and adopting with freedom
whatever was seen to be excellent in their
various modes of life; and especially to make
these interchanges with those who are the masters
and the model of the whole world. It is
well known to you, with what success he drew
almost the whole nation after him; but particularly
those who dwelt upon the sea-coast;
so that in the process of not many years, the
customs and manners of Rome were to be seen
in a great many of our cities, and nowhere
more than in Cæsarea; so that even the games
and sports of the Circus and the Theatres were
to be enjoyed in many places, in Cæsarea,
Herodium, Gamala, Machærus, without the necessity
of a voyage to Rome; and so that
even our religion, for adhering to which with
devotion, we have been famous through all
history, we began to think might relax somewhat
of its harshness, and receive somewhat of
the milder spirit which marks the faith of
Rome. Receive it, then, O Pilate, as a truth
not to be gainsaid, that we, who live now, are
more pervaded by this leaven, as many do call
it, of Herod, than were those who lived but a
little while before us; to that degree indeed,
that, save in some few respects of little moment,
the Jew of Cæsarea may, without impeaching
greatly one's powers of discernment,
be taken for a Roman. His garb is the same,
his language the same, his amusements the
same; and what separates him, is indeed but
little worthy of regard. Now, most excellent
Governor, if the Jews of Cæsarea be such, why
should they not be dealt with as friends, subjects,
citizens, and children of the Universal
Empire? We see not why a synagogue of
the Jews should be razed for this purpose, any
more than a temple of Jupiter or Apollo. We
will not yield to any in our love and honor of
Rome. Condescend, great Prince, to consider
this, our great affection and to grant our suit.
And now —” Pilate interrupted him;

“That is well said, Sylleus. Thou hast
done well, and said enough. I doubt not now
your love for Rome. But answer me this —
are you not still Jews? Call you not yourselves
Jews?”

“Assuredly we do,” responded Sylleus.

“Ah, hah,” said Pilate, “then are you not
Romans. A Jew is a Jew. A circumcised
Jew can be no Roman.” And upon that the
Greeks and the rabble laughed. Pilate, as

this subsided, continued, in a sharp and bitter
tone.—

“You Jews are surely a short-sighted, besotted
people. What cares Rome, think you,
for your good will? Shall she owe you thanks
and favors, that you affect her, and honor her?
She owes not these to her own citizens and
children. What she wants, by the Gods, she
can command; her arm is long enough and
strong enough to reach even to you, and what
she would have you, that shall she make you. —
What more would you say? Speak, for time
presses, and the air grows hot.”

Sylleus thus urged, and finding, doubtless,
that much of the argument he had prepared
could not so much as be uttered in the ears
of the Governor, much less set forth in order
with his usual flourishes, came, at length,
after much hesitating, and a long and indirect
preface — in which he was more than once
interrupted and rebuked by the Procurator
— to the statement of the proposition which
he had been directed to reserve to the last.

“The Jews of Cæsarea,” he began, “as is
well known to your Greatness, and, indeed, to
all the world, are a poor people, and what little
wealth they can heap together is obtained by a
labor, and by hardships and industry, such,
it is believed, as the natives of no other land ever

present an example of. And if Cæsarea is
poor, so too is Jerusalem — Judea, and Galilee,
and Perea, it is all the same; we are a
small and poor people. Yet, according to
our ability, are we willing to part with our
hard-earned gains, if, in exchange, we can
obtain privileges and favors which to us are
more than wealth.” Pilate raised his head,
and looked at Sylleus. Zeno remarked that,
in his judgment, for a Jew, Sylleus was a man
of discernment. “Especially,” he continued,
“does it gratify us, who, as I have before
aimed to show, love Rome even as her own
children, when we can offer our mite to increase
the lustre of her greatness. Nay, it
were not reason that we looked to obtain at
all times that which we covet, without some
sacrifice on our part, or some relinquishment of
what we value in due proportion to what we
receive.”

“You surely judge,” said Pilate, “like good
citizens and honest men.”

“Wherefore, most noble Governor,” continued
Sylleus, “it is through the counsel of
our chief priests and the other most esteemed
persons of our body, that I now say, that to
ransom what is so dearly prized by Jewish
hearts, we gladly offer to the treasury of the
Empire a gold talent of Jerusalem, which,

though it may seem but a small sum to those
who hold in their hands the wealth of the
whole earth, is yet a huge one to those who,
as we do, acquire our riches, if we may ever be
said to possess riches, by little and little, and
never much.”

An evident sensation was made throughout
the crowd by this proposition of the Jew. It
had not been looked for. I asked Zeno if this
was the way in which Rome raised taxes.
“Little of money so got, ever goes to Rome,”
he replied. “This is for the purse of Pilate.
The Jew has touched the right chord, and it
sings music in the Governor's ear. He is
thinking of bracelets and ear-rings for his wife,
the beautiful Procla. See, he smiles graciously
on Sylleus, and seems not to catch the murmurs
from the Greeks. If he heeds them not,
I warrant him they will soon grow louder than
he will like.”

Pilate, for the moment while this was said,
sat silent and unobservant of all around him,
then suddenly broke out, —

“Thou hast said the truth, Sylleus. Rome
loves her distant subjects as her nearer, and ever
accepts with pride the tokens of their regard.”
He was about to proceed with other things,
when he was interrupted by a loud and clear
voice, which I at once recognised as Philip's.

“Listen not, O Governor, to the words of
one who, in every word he utters, seals the
dishonor of his country” — But Philip was in
his turn, rudely silenced, at Pilate's instance,
by a herald who stood near; for at the same
moment he had observed that Lycias, the
leader of the Greeks, wished to address him.
Many of the Jews now cried out for Philip,
others for Sylleus, and the Greeks shouted the
names of Lycias and Philæus, each party striving,
by noise and uproar, to secure the success
of its chief. Pilate at length succeeded in enforcing
silence, and then called upon Lycias to
say what he would.

“Most noble Governor,” said the Greek, as
soon as his voice could be made to prevail over
the slowly subsiding tumult, “it is a long time
that the honor, which the united Greek population
of Cæsarea have proposed to render to the
reigning Emperor, hath been made a matter of
notoriety, both here in our city, and in the
neighboring places. Even at Rome, it hath
been familiarly spoken of by such as are acquainted
with our affairs and been carried to the
ears of Cæsar himself. It hath been also reported
to Cæsar, that the imperial colossus should
stand upon the loftiest point of the city — now
filled by the Jewish synagogue — so that it
might be conspicuous to all entering or departing

from the Port, and to such as travel the great
roads to the Capital, as those of Asia and Rome
now are; and more than this, that the ground
hath already been ceded to the Greeks for this
use by the Governor. To me and to us, is it
plain, O Pilate, that the honor arising from this
act on the part of the Greeks of Cæsarea, will
be more esteemed at Rome, than will be the
miserable pittance proffered by the Jews, which
can hardly be thought to be equivalent to more
than half the value of the building now deforming
the finest quarter of the city. He can
scarce be reckoned a friend of Cæsar, and of
Cæsar's honor, who, for a colossus of marble
upon the topmost point of Cæsarea, shall substitute
a talent of gold, which, while it vanishes
in the using, the other endures with nature
itself, from one part of which it is carved
out. If the omnipotent Tiberius be in want of
money, let the Greeks of Cæsarea make a contribution
of such pence as they can spare, and
by the first ship despatch it to Rome.” Here
was there much commotion amongst the multitude
— the Greeks exulting, and the Jews
showing signs of rage and impatience — Pilate's
pallid face grew whiter still. Zeno said,
“That Greek is bold, is he not? But were he
not sure how it stands with Pilate at Rome,
he might as well have cut off his own head, as
said it. Trust Lycias for both courage and
cunning.”

Lycias was about to begin again, when Pilate,
assuming his usual air, and rising, said,

“I will hear no more of the matter. What I
have decreed, I have decreed. The first judgment
shall stand. I was willing to grant an indulgence
to you, Jews of Cæsarea, and to hear
what further ye might have to allege against the
Judgment I had rendered; but it has proved but
another occasion of tumult and confusion —”

Pilate was here broken in upon by the loud
voice of Philip — “The true reasons,” said he,
“O Pilate, why thy judgment should not stand,
have not been rendered by the false Sylleus;
listen to me, and thou shalt hear them —”

A new uproar was now occasioned. The
Priests, with signs of rage in their distorted
countenances, shouted, “Hear him not, Pilate,
he is mad! The Jews themselves hold
him mad.” The Greeks, too, now took sides
with them in the endeavor to silence him, but
his voice prevailed over all.

“The true reason, O Pilate, why this judgment
should not be rendered is, that it will
breed riot, revolt, and war, in Cæsarea, and it
may be, throughout Judea. Deem not that
though some of the Jews be traitors to themselves
and their God, all are therefore so.

For I say unto thee, there are those in
Cæsarea, and they are not a few, who will
sooner pour out their blood upon the altar of
their God, as did those Galileans whom thou
doubtless rememberest, or ever they will see
dishonor done to the house of their worship.
Believe not the foul-mouthed apostate, when
he tells thee that there is love between us and
thee, between Israel and Rome. I tell thee
there is hate — deep, deadly, inextinguishable
hate, and there is nothing else. The Jew hates
the Roman, defies and spits upon him. Herod
did not quite, although he did almost, un-Jew
us. There be some left who name not his
name, but another's who lived long since, of
whom, perchance, the noble Pilate has heard
somewhat, Judas of Galilee! And besides him
and much more, Herod Antipas, whom thou
lovest not; we hold from him, and hope,
helped by the God of our fathers, that he shall
do a work of which the world shall hear.
There is a cup in His hand, and the wine is
red, and as for the dregs thereof, ye of Rome
shall wring them out and drink them.” —
What more Philip would have said none can
tell, for at that moment Pilate's voice was
heard —

“Strike him to the ground! Hew down the
rebel” — at which the soldiers, who were near,

made towards him as they could through the
press, but happily in vain; for the Jews who
were around him closed him in, many of the
other party joining them, and in spite of the
efforts of the soldiers, whose swords and spears
were flashing around and falling mercilessly
upon any who were nearest — they love nothing
like the blood of a Jew — Philip was thrust into
the thickest of the multitude, and so escaped.
But the words of Pilate were the signal for a
general tumult. The whole mass, heaved to
and fro in the struggles of all, either to defend
themselves, to assail others, or to escape from
the Hall; the confusion and the terror being
increased by the stern command of Pilate, heard
above all the din, for the legionaries to be drawn
from the Camp to the Square, he himself at the
same moment hastily disappearing through the
door in the rear of the apartment, by which he
had entered.

The throng being now too dense to permit
the use of weapons, every thought and effort of
each was centered in the endeavor to fly from
the place, and in the haste and hurry thus occasioned,
many, both of the Greeks and Jews,
were thrown down and trampled to death, in
the narrow passages, and on the descent of the
steps. When the streets were once gained, the
apprehension of the Roman soldiery caused

the crowds, with precipitation, to fly for the
shelter of their homes. As for ourselves, Zeno,
when he saw to what head the tumult would
grow, with a prudence which is a part of his
character, drew me away with haste to the
near neighborhood of the entrance by which we
had gained the room, so that when the tumult
had reached its highest, and no more was to be
witnessed with safety, we departed the way we
came; many who were near us, observing our
movements, and escaping by the same means.
As we rapidly made our way through the narrow
and secret passes, by which we had approached
the Judgment Hall, the air was filled
with the noise of the retreating and flying
crowds, and soon, above all, was heard the clang
of the trumpets of the Roman Horse, as yet at
a distance, they swept along the streets toward
the scene of action. So great, however,
was the terror on the part of the people of this
weapon of Imperial rule, that by the time the
Horse had reached the Hall, they found themselves
the sole occupants of the square and the
streets, a moment before so thronged with half
the inhabitants of Cæsarea.

I soon parted from Zeno, and hastened to
what I already begin to call my home. Anna
and her mother were awaiting with anxiety the
event of the audience. I had scarcely ended

my narrative of the occurrences of the hour,
when Philip appeared. He was now calm, but
bore marks, in the fiery glow of his countenance,
of the scenes through which he had just passed.
Although he conversed with moderation, and
with gentleness toward us all, yet was there a
wildness and restless wandering of the eye,
which showed to me that his soul was deeply
agitated, and was still devising further schemes
of resistance. Anna, after having heard from
both of us full accounts of all that had happened,
no longer made any effort to restrain
herself or Philip, but surrendered herself to
the undivided dominion of her religious, patriotic
zeal, and by the lofty tone of her indignation,
and her sincere devotion to her faith, served
to lend a fresh impulse to her brother. Where
this will end, or what will next ensue, I cannot
pretend to divine; but the causes of discord
and quarrel are too many, and now too bitter,
to be speedily put at rest.

I cannot wonder, my mother, at the rage
into which devout Jews are thrown, or any who
retain the least attachment to their country,
and reverence for those who have lived before
them, or any remembrance of their ancient
greatness and renown, nay, who have any
proper feeling for themselves, when they behold
themselves, the lives of their children,

their homes, the prosperity of their cities, and
the religion which they have received through
so many ages, made the sport of a tyranny like
this. Rome at home is compassionate and indulgent
— at least, magnanimous; but in her
distant administration of the extremities of her
vast Empire, where her own eye cannot penetrate,
she is, through her ministers, oftentimes
most unjust and oppressive. Pilate, as I learn,
and as I see, rules in Judea, not for the good of
the province over which he is set, but for his
own. His first care is to turn the streams of
wealth, of which he can obtain the control,
into his own coffers — next into those of Rome;
and whenever his own wants of more, and still
more, cry out louder than usual, or the cry comes
over the sea from his great master, then pretexts
in abundance are found, or invented, for extraordinary
assessments upon the people, and to
that degree, that ruin to the merchant and the
husbandman often stalks in the footsteps of
the publican. Nay, among the Jews, those
who lend themselves to this service, and for
the sake of a livelihood, or possibly larger gains,
allow themselves to be employed as collectors
of these imposed burdens, are held in even
greater abhorrence than the masters whom they
serve. That toward both, all the anger and hate
should be felt which now rage in the breast of
Philip, and of those who are with him, is
natural and necessary; and I blame Philip,
therefore, not for his principles, but for his policy.
He surrenders himself wholly to his
passions, which bear him apparently with more
despatch toward the attainment of his object, but
deceive him, and end in leading him farther and
farther from that at which he aims. He, who
obeys his passions rather than his reason, is
like one who, on the ocean, should hope to reach
the port, trusting to the winds alone. They
may drive him swiftly; but if there be no rudder
and no helmsman, the faster he shall go,
the farther it may be from the haven he seeks.

After a stormy day, I now willingly seek
repose. To-morrow the games of Herod commence,
and it will not be strange if disturbances
should again break out. When it shall have
passed, I will record its events.

The day has come and gone in peace. I
will not, my mother describe the scenes I have
witnessed at the Amphitheatre, resembling as
they have, even to the minutest ceremonial,
those of the same kind in Rome, of which you
have often heard, though you never witnessed
them. To thine apostate son was left that
office; and faithfully were its duties fulfilled.

Never, as I think, was I absent after my tenth
year, from any game or show within the walls
of Rome — or never, except when my old master
Plancus used to interpose, out of regard, as
he averred, to my progress in my studies, and
obtain from you, or from my father, an interdict
to be laid upon my movements. With my
father, I believe, he rarely succeeded, he being
ever ambitious, that, by mingling, at all times
and in every place, with the Roman youth, especially
at their national sports and public
games, I should grow up in their likeness, and
lose my own. It was to you I owe it, that occasionally
I was withheld from such scenes, and
kept, instead, to my Greek. But my relish for
them I find not to be quite dead within me;
even on the humbler scale in which they were
to-day exhibited in this provincial city. And
truly I was not the only son of Abraham then
and there present, but beside me, as it were, the
whole Jewish population of Cæsarea — so successful
have been the means resorted to, to
tempt our people to adopt the customs and manners
of their conquerors and masters. The
more strict, indeed, were not there, such as
Anna, Philip, Simon, and their friends; but
they are few in comparison with the whole.
On the third day of the games occurs the Sabbath,
when many more will be added to the
numbers of the absent; but so fatal is the power
of bad example, great numbers will also be
found in the seats of the Theatre — amongst
whom, alas, thy son may be.

On the evening of the first day — as I was
but now about to say — we sat together in the
Portico, looking both over the garden, and the
waters of the sea, as they then sparkled under
the light of the half-grown moon. Our talk
was of the games, and of what had been witnessed
there. I related all I had either seen or
heard. Simon also was of our company; who
asked me whether any difference was to be
noted in the demeanor of Pilate toward the
Greeks and Jews. I told him I had noticed
none; or if any, that his manner was even more
gracious towards those of the Jews who were
near him than to any others, and what was
more perhaps, that at the side of Procla sat the
wife of Sylleus. “There is no good designed,”
said Simon, “in any quarter, when Pilate
smiles; least of all, to us. Would that his
wife reigned here in Judea, instead of him.
Her smiles, and they are many, are of the
heart. Were her counsels followed, there were
no uncertain prospect of days of peace in Judea.
She is full of humanity, as he of cruelty.
Toward our people she has ever shown herself

prompt to do them favors, and atone, as she
might, for the slights and affronts of her husband
and other lordly Romans. The Lord be
nigh unto her in the hour of her necessity.”

“Often has she been known,” said Anna, “to
interpose between the judgment of Pilate and
his victim, — believed by her to be unjustly
condemned, — and snatch him from the death
that threatened; and sometimes has she herself
in the silence of night set open the prison
door, and unlocked the chain, and set the prisoner
free, trusting to Pilate's love of her, —
which all Cæsarea knows how fond it is, — to
overlook the offence. Her heart is full of pity,
and even the Jew is not shut out.”

“He is not,” said Simon; “to day at the
Synagogue and in the Market it passed from
mouth to mouth, that Procla was on our part,
and that to the wife of Sylleus she had declared
as much, and had said moreover, that whatever
it lay within her power to do, that would she
do gladly for the furtherance of our desires.
The peace with which this day has passed gives
hope that justice and milder counsels will prevail.”

“It is,” said Philip, “the treacherous calm
that precedes the tempest; the smoothness of
the stream before it shoots the precipice; the
stillness that comes before the lightning; the

quiet speech of Joab when he smote Abner
under the fifth rib. Look not for peace till the
yoke of slavery shall have been fastened upon
the neck of every man, who dares to stand up
and call himself a Jew. Procla's intercession
may buy the life of a malefactor, or save a
thief from the stocks, but at a time like this her
smiles would scarce avail to change the mind
of Pilate. His love of money and his dread of
Cæsar are stronger both, than his love of Procla.
'T is rumored, that the Greeks more than make
good the bribe of Sylleus.”

“Still,” said Simon, “I will hope the best.
If to-morrow shall also go over, and our temple
still keep its place, I will believe that the
Lord hath turned the heart of our enemy. For
it is Pilate's wont not to delay what he purposes.”

I could not help saying here, what I did
not doubt was the truth, that it was not to be
questioned that Pilate would carry into effect
his purpose sooner or later; he might not do it
to-morrow or the day after, but as there was no
power to prevent him, and there was a strong
motive for him to do the Greeks this favor, he
would neither pause nor hesitate in the work
before him. This was, as I learned at the Amphitheatre,
the opinion of all who were most
capable of judging, who knew Pilate well, and

were interested in the event neither one way
nor another. And I added, that I could not but
hope, that, whatever iniquity there might be in
the measure, it would not be resisted, but that
afterward, since it could not be done before, an
appeal would be made to Cæsar. However, all
I could say was of little weight with any, except
perhaps with Simon, who judges now more
calmly in the matter than at first. As for
Philip he declared if all deserted him, as most
seemed likely to do, he would fall alone under
the axes and engines, ere he would live to witness
the impious wrong. Anna was of the same
mind.

Ceasing then to converse upon themes, which
were sure to agitate all who engaged in them,
we walked forth into the garden and spoke of
other things, and lingered till a late hour among
its avenues and shades. It was not till the
sounds in the neighboring streets had died
away, and the confused murmur that came up
from the vicinity of the Amphitheatre, where
idle revellers and the more dissolute youth of
the city pass both day and night, had at length
grown so faint as scarcely to be heard, that we
were warned to our rest.

The second day of the games has come and
gone in like manner as the first. But there

are, as it seems to me, many indications that
another will not pass so quietly. At the Circus
the affair of the Synagogue in all the intervals
of the games was, as it were, the sole topic of
discourse. Some, both of Greeks and Jews,
espousing one side, and some another; for
many of the Greeks are generous enough to
condemn the measures which have been urged
upon Pilate, and many of the Jews, on the
other hand, are base enough through subserviency
to the Roman power to defend him, and
throw blame upon the churlishness, as they
term it, of the zealous, who will listen to no
propositions of surrender. Zeno, who, with
his troublesome partiality for my conversation,
was not long in perceiving in what part of the
Theatre I had placed myself, soon joined me,
“that he might enliven,” as he was pleased to
say, “by his presence and discourse, the solitude
in which I seemed to be pining.” I
asked him, how in his judgment stood the affair
of the Jews; for however this man may render
himself both tedious and absurd, by the perserverance
of his friendship, and the manner
of his talk, it still is universally admitted in
Cæsarea, that no other individual is during any
one day in so many different places, sees so
many persons, hears so much news, and heaps
together so many facts; so that to no other
source of information could I apply with so
great a certainty of obtaining the knowledge
for which I sought. He was very positive in
his belief, in reply to my inquiries, that Pilate
held to his original purpose, and that nothing
now could turn him from it; that the second
hearing of the Jews had done them more harm
than good; that Philip had enraged him, and
that he would now in spite of appearances soon
take his revenge. I told him, that I thought
Lycias had said more to offend than Philip.
This he admitted; but replied, that it was for
Pilate's interest, nay it was necessary to him,
to overlook that; and besides he attributed the
whole disturbance, into which Cæsarea had
been thrown, to what he calls the superstitious
obstinacy of the Jews. “To-morrow is your
Sabbath, and to-morrow will the measure be
carried into effect,” said Zeno; “I doubt
this no more than that Pilate sits there before
us toying with Procla's bracelets, and now turns
his dark brows to watch the last agonies of that
dying gladiator. He reckons much upon the
Herodians — which, some say, but for mysterious
reasons which I do not understand, is a false
reliance — and the divisions among you; and is
persuaded that there will now be but faint opposition,
and that on the part only of a few
madmen like Philip.”

Philip throughout this day has been engaged
in secret movements with his party. It is their
purpose to post themselves in the immediate
neighborhood of the Synagogue, concealed in
the dwellings of the Jews which are nearest.
Many of these are inhabited by Roman Jews,
who would not admit Philip, nor any of his
adherents. But an equal or a greater number
are in the possession of those who are united
with him. These buildings are separated from
the walls of the Synagogue by very broad
streets, and almost surround it, and afford a
ready and secure place of concealment, while
awaiting the decision of Pilate; and of retreat,
if either their own desperate zeal, or the
Roman sword should spare them for such an
act. There can be little question but that to-morrow
will behold the destruction of the
Synagogue. Although no public order has
been given, and the people will be tempted to
the Theatre by unusual spectacles; yet those
who know the manner in which Pilate conducts
such affairs are well persuaded of it.
Lest, my mother, the events of another day
should not allow me to end and seal this
letter, and commit it to the vessel which to-morrow
sails for the Tiber, I will close it
now, commending myself to you with all love,

and offering the salutations of the widow and
her daughter.

When the morrow is over, I will write of its
events.