ing the first century of our era was a
magnificent political structure, so large that Alexander's empire became
one of its minor provinces. Underneath this glory there lived millions
upon millions of poor and tired human beings, toiling like ants who have
built a nest underneath a heavy stone. They worked for the benefit of
some one else. They shared their food with the animals of the fields.
They lived in stables. They died without hope.

It was the seven hundred and fifty-third year since the founding of
Rome. Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus Augustus was living in the palace
of the Palatine Hill, busily engaged upon the task of ruling his empire.

In a little village of distant Syria, Mary, the wife of Joseph the
Carpenter, was tending her little boy, born in a stable of Bethlehem.

This is a strange world.

Before long, the palace and the stable were to meet in open combat.

And the stable was to emerge victorious.

JOSHUA OF NAZARETH

THE STORY OF JOSHUA OF NAZARETH, WHOM THE GREEKS CALLED JESUS

IN the autumn of the year of the city 783 (which would be 62 A.D., in
our way of counting time) AEsculapius Cultellus, a Roman physician,
wrote to his nephew who was with the army in Syria as follows:

My dear Nephew,

A few days ago I was called in to prescribe for a sick man named Paul.
He appeared to be a Roman citizen of Jewish parentage, well educated
and of agreeable manners. I had been told that he was here in connection
with a law-suit, an appeal from one of our provincial courts, Caesarea
or some such place in the eastern Mediterranean. He had been described
to me as a "wild and violent" fellow who had been making speeches
against the People and against the Law. I found him very intelligent and
of great honesty.

A friend of mine who used to be with the army in Asia Minor tells me
that he heard something about him in Ephesus where he was preaching
sermons about a strange new God. I asked my patient if this were true
and whether he had told the people to rebel against the will of our
beloved Emperor. Paul answered me that the Kingdom of which he had
spoken was not of this world and he added many strange utterances which
I did not understand, but which were probably due to his fever.

His personality made a great impression upon me and I was sorry to hear
that he was killed on the Ostian Road a few days ago. Therefore I am
writing this letter to you. When next you visit Jerusalem, I want you to