abstractions. Yet, look: when Pilate went out
scowling to meet the mob that had fetched the fisherman, he fell
immediately under the charm of the man.

I was present. I know. It was the first time Pilate had ever seen him.
Pilate went out angry. Our soldiers were in readiness to clear the court
of its noisy vermin. And immediately Pilate laid eyes on the fisherman
Pilate was subdued--nay, was solicitous. He disclaimed jurisdiction,
demanded that they should judge the fisherman by their law and deal with
him by their law, since the fisherman was a Jew and not a Roman. Never
were there Jews so obedient to Roman rule. They cried out that it was
unlawful, under Rome, for them to put any man to death. Yet Antipas had
beheaded John and come to no grief of it.

And Pilate left them in the court, open under the sky, and took Jesus
alone into the judgment hall. What happened therein I know not, save
that when Pilate emerged he was changed. Whereas before he had been
disinclined to execute because he would not be made a catspaw to Hanan,
he was now disinclined to execute because of regard for the fisherman.
His effort now was to save the fisherman. And all the while the mob
cried: "Crucify him! Crucify him!"

You, my reader, know the sincerity of Pilate's effort. You know how he
tried to befool the mob, first by mocking Jesus as a harmless fool; and
second by offering to release him according to the custom of releasing
one prisoner at time of the Passover. And you know how the priests'
quick whisperings led the mob to cry out for the release of the murderer
Bar-Abba.

In vain Pilate struggled against the fate being thrust upon him by the
priests. By sneer and jibe he hoped to make a farce of the transaction.
He laughingly called Jesus the King of the Jews and ordered him to be
scourged. His hope was that all would end in laughter and in laugher be
forgotten.

I am glad to say that no Roman soldiers took part in what followed. It
was the soldiers of the auxiliaries who crowned and cloaked Jesus, put
the reed of sovereignty in his hand, and, kneeling, hailed him King of
the Jews. Although it failed, it was a play to placate. And I, looking
on, learned the charm of Jesus. Despite the cruel mockery of situation,
he was regal. And I was quiet as I gazed. It was his own quiet that
went into me. I was soothed and satisfied, and was without bewilderment.
This thing had to be. All was well. The serenity of