rum, or
judgment-seat, which was placed on the tessellated pavement that ran
from end to end of the palace. "Whom will ye," he asked, "that I
release unto you--Barabbas, or Jesus which is called the Christ?" And
then he suggested the answer: "Will ye that I release unto you the King
of Jews?"

At this moment, and perhaps whilst waiting for their answer, a
messenger hurried to speak to him from his wife. It must have been
most unusual for her to interfere with his judicial acts; but she had
been so impressed by a dream about her husband's connection with Jesus,
the unwonted Prisoner who stood before him, that she was impelled to
urge him to have nothing to do with Him. It was a remarkable episode,
and must have made Pilate more than ever anxious to extricate himself
from his dilemma.

It was still not absolutely too late to set himself free by the
resolute expression of his will. But his temporizing policy was making
it immensely difficult, and he was becoming every moment more entangled
in the meshes of the merciless priests.

He had hoped much from his last proposal, but was destined to be
bitterly disappointed. The chief priests and elders had been busy
amongst the crowds, persuading and moving them. We do not know the
arguments they would employ; but we all know how inflammable a mob is,
and presently the name of Barabbas began to sound ominously from amid
the hubbub and murmur of that sea of human beings. Presently the
isolated cries spread into a tumultuous clamor, which rang out in the
morning air, "Not this man, but Barabbas!"

Pilate seems to have been dumbfoundered at this unexpected demand; and
said, almost pitifully, "What then shall I do with Jesus, which is
called Christ?" As though he had said, "You surely cannot mean that He
should suffer the fate prepared for a murderer!" Then they cried out
for the first time, To the cross, to the cross! "Crucify Him! crucify
Him!"

Pilate had failed twice; he felt that he was being swept away by a
current which already he could not stem, and which was becoming at
every moment deeper and swifter. But he was very anxious to release
Jesus; and so he tried to reason with them, and said, "Why, what evil
hath He done?" But he might as hopefully have tried to argue with an
angry sea, or with a pack of wolves. He felt this, and, mustering a
little show of authority, said: "I have found no cause of death in Him;
I will, therefore, chastise Him, and release