accufation was malicious and groundless, made fevera! efforts to fave Jefus. He repeatedly declared to his accufers, that having examined him, he could find no fault in him. This, however, inftead of difarming their fury,. only inflamed and increased it. They were the more fierce, as St. Luke tells us, faying, “He stirreth up the people, teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from Galilee to this place." The mention of Galilee fuggefted an idea to Pilate, which he flattered himself might fave him the pain of condemning an innocent man. "When Pilate heard of Galilee, he asked whether the man were a Galilean; and as soon as he knew that he belonged to Herod's jurisdiction, he sent him to Herodt. That tyrant, who' was delighted to fee Jefus, and was probably very well difpofed to treat him as he did his precurfor, John the Baptift, yet could bring no guilt home to him. He therefore fent him back to Pilate, infulted and derided, but uncondemned. Pilate, not yet difcouraged, had recourse to another expedient, which he hoped might still preserve a plainly guiltless man. It was the custom at the great feaft of the pallover for the Roman governor to gratify the Jewish people, by pardoning and releafing to them any prifoner whom they chose to felect out of thofe that were condemned to death. Now there happened to be at that time a notorious criminal in prison, named Barabbas, who had been guilty of exciting an infurrection, and committing murder in it. Pilate thinking it impoffible that the people could carry their malignant rage against Jefus fo far as to defire the pardon of a murderer rather than of him, faid unto them, "Whom will ye that I releafe unto you, Barabbas, or Jefus which is called Christ ?” Had the people been left to their own unbiaffed feeling, one would think that they could not have hesitated one moment in their choice. But they were under the influence of leaders (as they generally are) more wicked. than themselves. For we are told, that "the chief priests and elders perfuaded the multitude that they fhould ask Barabbas, and destroy Jefus‡.”

While this was paffing an extraordinary incident took place, which muft needs have made a deep impreffion on

Luke xxiii. 5. † Luke xxiii. 6, 7. Matth. xxvii. 29.

the mind of Pilate. When he was fat down upon the judgment-feat, his wife fent unto him, faying, Have thou nothing to do with that just man; for I have suffered many things this day in a dream because of him." Anxious as Pilate already was to fave Jefus, this fingular circumstance coming upon him at the moment, must have greatly quickened his zeal in fuch a caufe. He therefore redoubled his efforts to carry his point, and again faid to the Jews, "Whether of the twain will ye that I release unto you? They faid, Barabbas. Pilate ftill perfifted, What fhall I do then with Jefus which is called CHRIST ?" that is, the Meffiah, the great deliverer whom they expected; thinking this confideration might foften them. But he was mistaken; they all fay unto him, "Let him be crucified." Once more he endeavored to move their compaf-" fion, by reminding them of the perfect innocence of Jefus. The governor faid unto them, "Why? what evil hath he done?" But even this laft affecting remonftrance was all in vain they cried out the more, faying, "Let him be crucified." When therefore Pilate faw that he could prevail nothing, but rather a tumult was made, he took water, and washed his hands before the multitude, faying, "I am innocent of the blood of this just person; see ye to it." This was a custom both among the Jews and the Romans, when they wished to exculpate themselves from the guilt of having put to death an innocent man. meet with inftances of this fignificant ablution in several claffic writers*. The Mofaic law itself enjoined it in certain cafest; and it is in allufion to this ceremony that David fays in the Pfalms, "I will wash my hands in innocency, O Lord; (that is, in teftimony of my innocence) and fo will I go to thine altar‡."

We

This therefore was at once a visible declaration of the innocence of Jefus, and of Pilate's reluctance in condemn

Sophocles-Ajax, iii. 1. v. 664, and Scholiaft in Loco. So Æneas, after having recently flaughtered fo many of his enemies at the facking of Troy by the Greeks, durft not touch his household gods, till he had washed himself in the running ftream.

Me bello é tanto digreffum et cæde recenti,

Attrectare nefas; donec me flumine vivo

Abluero.- An. 1. ii. v. 718.

ing him. To this the Jews made that anfwer, which must petrify every heart with horror. Then anfwered all the people, and faid, “ His blood be upon us and on our children." Then released he Barabbas unto them. And when he had fcourged Jefus, he delivered him to be crucified."

Here let us pause a moment and look back to the scene we have been contemplating, and the reflections that arife from it.

It affords, in the first place, a most awful warning to the lower orders of the people, to beware of giving them felves up, as they too frequently do, to the direction of artful and profligate leaders, who abuse their fimplicity and credulity to the very worst purpofes, and make use of them only as tools, to accomplish their own private views of ambition, of avarice, of refentment, or revenge. We have just seen a most striking inftance of this ftrange propenfity of the multitude to be mifled, and of the ease with which their paffions are worked up to the commiffion of the most atrocious crimes. The Jewish people were naturally attached to Jefus. They were astonished at his miracles, they were charmed with his difcourfes; and their diseases and infirmities were relieved by his omnipo tent benevolence. But notwithstanding all this, by the dexterous management of their chief priests and elders, their admiration of Jefus was converted in a moment into the most rancorous hatred; they were perfuaded to ask the life of a murderer in preference to his; and to demand the destruction of a man who had never offended them, whofe innocence was as clear as the day, and was repeatedly acknowledged and strongly urged upon them by the very judge who had tried him.

Yet even that judge himfelf, who was fo thoroughly convinced of the innocence of his prifoner, and actually used every means in his power to preserve him, even he had not the honefty and the courage to protect him effectually; and his conduct affords a most dreadful proof what kind of a thing public juftice was among the most enlightened, and (if we may believe their own poets and historians) the most virtuous people in the ancient heathen world.

We fee a Roman governor fent to difpenfe juftice in a Roman province, and invested with full powers to fave or to deftroy; we fee him with a prifoner before him, in whom he repeatedly declared he could find no fault: and yet, after a few ineffectual struggles with his own confcience, he delivers up that prisoner, not merely to death, but to the most horrible and excruciating torments that human malignity could devife. The fact is, he was afraid of the people, he was afraid of Cæfar; and when the clamorous multitude cried out to him, " if thou let this man go, thou art not Cæfar's friend," all his firmness, all his refolution at once forfook him. He fhrunk from the dangers that threatened him, and facrificed his confcience and his duty to the menaces of a mob, and the dread of fovereign power.

Could any thing like this have happened in this country? We all know that it is impoffible. We all know that no dangers, no threats, no fears, either of Cæfar or of the people, could ever induce a British judge to condemn to death a man, whom he in his confcience believed to be innocent. And what is it that produces this difference between a Roman and a British judge? It is this: that the former had no other principle to govern his conduct but natural reason, or what would now be called philofophy; which, though it would fometimes point out to him the path of duty, yet could never infpire him with fortitude enough to perfevere in it in critical and dangerous circumstances; in oppofition to the frowns of a tyrant, or the clamours of a multitude. 'Whereas the British judge, in addition to his natural fentiments of right and wrong, and the dictates of the moral fenfe, has the principle of religion also to influence his heart: he has the unerring and inflexible rules of evangelical rectitude to guide him; he has that which will vanquish every other fear, the fear of God, before his eyes. He knows that he himself must one day stand before the Judge of all; and that confideration keeps him firm to his duty, be the dangers that furround him ever fo formidable and tremendous.

This is one, among a thousand other proofs, of the benefits we derive, even in the prefent life, from the Christian

revelation. It has, in fact, had a most falutary and beneficial influence on our most important temporal interefts. Its beneficent spirit has fpread itself through all the different relations and modifications of human fociety, and communicated its kindly influence to almost every public and private concern of mankind. It has not only purifi ed, as we have feen, the administation of justice; but it has infenfibly worked itself into the inmost frame and conftitution of civil focieties. It has given a tinge to the complexion of their governments, and to the temper of their laws. It has foftened the rigour of defpotifm, and leffened, in fome degree, the horrors of war. It has defcended into families, has diminished the preffure of private tyranny, improved every domeftic endearment, given tenderness to the parent, humanity to the mafter, refpect to fuperiors, to inferiors fecurity and ease; and left, in fhort, the most evident traces of its benevolent fpirit in all the various fubordinations, dependencies, and connections of focial life.

But to return to the Roman governor. Having thus bafely fhrunk from his duty, and, contrary to his own conviction, condemned an innocent man, he endeavored to clear himself from this guilt, and to fatisfy his conscience, by the vain ceremony of washing his hands before the multitude, and declaring, "that he was innocent of the blood of that just person." Alas! not all the water of the ocean could wash away the foul and indelible stain of murder from his foul. Yet he hoped to transfer it to the accomplices of his crime. "See ye to it," fays he to the people. And what answer did that people make to him?" His blood, faid they, be on us and on our children.” A mot fatal imprecation, and most dreadfully fulfilled upon them at the fiege of Jerufalem, when the vengeance of heaven overtook them with a fury unexampled in the history of the world; when they were expofed at once to the horrors of famine, of fedition, of affaffination, and the fword of the Romans. And it is very remarkable, that there was a ftriking correfpondence between their crime and their punishment. They put Jefus to death when the nation was affembled to celebrate the passover; and when the nation was affembled for the fame purpose, Titus fhut them up within the walls of Jerufalem. The