o speak, die
yet another death of the most revolting description. The Evangelist,
however, throws no doubt on the motive which they put forward--namely,
that the Passover Sabbath might be saved from desecration--and,
although their insatiable hatred may have made them suggest clubbing as
the mode by which His death should be hastened, we need not question
that their scruples were genuine. It is an extraordinary instance of
the game of self-deception which the human conscience can play. Here
were people fresh from the greatest crime ever committed--their hands
still reeking, one might say, with the blood of the Innocent--and their
consciences, while utterly untouched with remorse for this crime, are
anxious about the observance of the Sabbath and the ceremonial
defilement of the soil. It is the most extraordinary illustration
which history records of how zeal for what may be called the body of
religion may be utterly destitute of any connection with its spirit.
It is surely a solemn warning to make sure that every outward religious
act is accompanied by the genuine outgoing of the heart to God, and a
warning that, if we love not our brother, whom we have seen, neither
can we be lovers of God, whom we have not seen.

Pilate hearkened to the request of the Jews, and orders were given to
the soldiers to act accordingly. Then the ghastly work began. They
broke the legs of the malefactor on the one side of Jesus, and then
those of the other on the opposite side. The penitent thief was not
spared; but what a difference his penitence made! To his companion
this was nothing but an additional indignity; to him it was the
knocking-off of the fetters, that his spirit might the sooner wing its
way to Paradise, where Christ had trysted to meet him.

Then came the turn of Jesus. But, when the soldiers looked at Him,
they saw that their work was unnecessary: death had been before them;
the drooping head and pallid frame were those of a dead man. Only, to
make assurance doubly sure, one of them thrust his spear into the body,
making a wound so large that Jesus, when He was risen, could invite the
doubting Thomas to thrust his hand into it; and, as the weapon was
drawn forth again, there came out after it blood and water.

St. John, who was on the spot and saw all this taking place, seems to
have perceived in the scene an unusual importance; for he adds to his
report these words of confirmation, as if he were sealing an off