Lives of the apostles of Jesus Christ

by David Francis Bacon

Non vultus instantis tyranni

Mente quatit solida. * * *

The moral energy of the Roman character made the exemplifications of this fair ideal not uncommon, even in these latter days of Roman glory. There were some like Petronius, who gave life and reality to this poetical conception of Horace,——“A man just and resolute, unshaken from his firm purpose alike by the wild impulses of popular rage, and by the frown of an overbearing tyrant.” And these were among the chief blessings of the Roman sway, to those lands in which it ruled,——that the great interests of the country were not subjected to the blind movements of a perverse public opinion, changing with each year, and frustrating every good which required a steady policy for its accomplishment,——that the majority of the people were not allowed to tyrannize over the minority, nor the minority over the majority;——and that a mighty power amenable to neither, but whose interest and glory would always coincide with the good of the whole, held over all a dominion unchecked by the demands of popular caprice. But, alas! for the imperfections of all human systems;——among the curses of that Roman sway, must be numbered its liability to fall from the hands of the wise and amiable, into those of the stupid and brutal; changes which but too often occurred,——overturning, by the mismanagement of a moment, the results of years of benevolent and prudent policy. And in this very case, all the benefits of Petronius’s equitable and considerate rule, were utterly neutralized and annihilated by the foolishness or brutality of his successors, till the provoked irritability of the nation at last broke out with a fierceness that for a time overcame the securities even of Roman dominion, and was finally quieted only in the utter ruin of the whole Jewish nation. But during the period of several years following the exit of Pilate, its beneficial energy was felt in the quiet tolerance of religious opinion, which he enforced on all, and which was most highly advantageous to the progress of the doctrine of Christ. To this circumstance may justly be referred that remarkable repose enjoyed by the apostles and their followers from all the interference with their labors by the Roman government. The death of Jesus Christ himself, indeed, was the only act in which the civil power had interfered at all! for the murder of Stephen was a mere freak of mob-violence, a mere Lynch-law proceeding, which the Roman governor would not have sanctioned, if it had been brought under his cognizance,——being done as it was, so directly in the face of those principles of religious tolerance which the policy of the empire enforced every where, excepting cases in which sedition and rebellion against their dominion was combined with religious zealotism, like the instances of the Gaulanitish Judas, Theudas, and others. Even Jesus himself, was thus accused by the Jews, and was condemned by Pilate for his alleged endeavors to excite a revolt against Caesar, and opposing the payment of the Roman taxes,——as is shown by the statement of all the evangelists, and more particularly by Pilate’s inscription on the cross. The persecution which followed the murder of Stephen was not carried on under the sanction of the Roman government, nor yet was it against their authority; for they permitted to the Sanhedrim the punishment of most minor offences, so long as they did not go beyond imprisonment, scourging, banishment, &c. But the punishment of death was entirely reserved to the civil and military power; and if the Jewish magnates had ever formally transgressed this limitation, they would have been instantly punished for it, as a treasonable assumption of that supreme power which their conquerors were determined to guard with the most watchful jealousy. The Sanhedrim, being thus restricted in their means of vengeance, were driven to the low expedient of stirring up the lawless mob to the execution of these deeds of desperate violence, which their religious rulers could wink at, and yet were prepared to disown, when questioned by the Romans, as mere popular ferments, over which they had no control whatever. So they managed with Stephen; for his murder was no doubt preconcerted among the chief men, who caused the formal preamble of a trial, with the design of provoking the mob, in some way, to this act; in which scheme they were too much favored by the fiery spirit of the martyr himself, who had not patience enough with their bigotry, to conceal his abhorrence of it. Their subsequent systematic and avowed acts of violence, it should be observed, were all kept strictly within the well-defined limits of their penal jurisdiction; for there is no evidence whatever that any of the persecuted Hellenists ever suffered death by the condemnation of the Sanhedrim, or by the sentence of a Roman tribunal. The progress of these events, however, showed that this irritating and harassing system of whippings, imprisonments and banishments, had a tendency rather to excite the energies of these devoted heretics, than to check or crush their spirit of innovation and denunciation. Among the numerous instances of malignant assault on the personal rights of these sufferers, and the cruel violation of the delicacy due to the weaker sex, there must have been, also, many occasions in which the ever-varying feelings of the public would be moved to deep sympathy with sufferers who bore, so steadily and heroically, punishments manifestly disproportioned to the offense with which they were charged,——a sympathy which might finally rise to a high and resistless indignation against their remorseless oppressors. It is probable, therefore, that this persecution was at last allayed by other causes than the mere defection of its most zealous agent. The conviction must have been forced on the minds of the persecutors, that this system, with all its paltry and vexatious details, must be given up, or exchanged for one whose operations should be so vast and sweeping in its desolating vengeance, as to overawe and appal, rather than awaken zeal in the objects of the punishment, or sympathy in the beholders. The latter alternative, however, was too hopeless, under the steady, benignant sway of Petronius, to be calculated upon, until a change should take place which should give the country a ruler of less independent and scrupulous character, and more disposed to sacrifice his own moral sense to the attainment of favor with the most important subjects of his government. Until that desirable end should be attained, in the course of the frequent changes of the imperial succession, it seemed best to let matters take their own course; and they accordingly dropped all active proceedings, leaving the new sect to progress as it might, with the impulse gained from the re-action consequent on this late unfortunate excitement against it. But they still kept a watchful eye on their proceedings, though with hands for a while powerless; and treasured up accumulating vengeance through tedious years, for the day when the progress of political changes should bring the secular power beneath their influence, and make it subservient to their purpose of dreadful retribution. That day had now fully come.

PETER’S THREATENED MARTYRDOM.

The long expected favorite and friend of the Jewish people, having been thus hailed sovereign by their grateful voices, and having strengthened his throne and influence by his opening acts of liberality and devotion to the national faith, now entered upon a reign which presented only the portents of a course most auspicious to his own fame and his people’s good. Uniting in his person the claims of the Herodian and Asmonaean lines,——with the blood of the heroic Maccabees in his veins,——crowned by the imperial lord of the civilized world, whose boundless power was pledged in his support, by the obligations of an intimate personal friendship, and of a sincere gratitude for the attainment of the throne of the Caesars through his prompt and steady exertions,——received with universal joy and hope by all the dwellers of the consolidated kingdoms of his dominion, which had been long thriving under the mild and equitable administration of a prudent governor,——there seemed nothing wanting to complete the happy auspices of a glorious reign, under which the ancient honors of Israel should be more than retrieved from the decline of ages. Yet what avails the bright array of happily conspiring circumstances, to prince or people, against the awful majesty of divine truth, or the pure, simple energy of human devotion? Within the obscurer corners of his vast territories, creeping for room under the outermost colonnades of that mighty temple whose glories he had pledged himself to renew,——wandering like outcasts from place to place,——seeking supporters only among the unintellectual mass of the people,——were a set of men of whom he probably had not heard until he entered his own dominions. They were now suggested to his notice for the first time, by the decided voice of censure from the devout and learned guardians of the purity of the law of God, who invoked the aid of his sovran power, to check and utterly uproot this heresy, which the unseasonable tolerance of Roman government had too long shielded from the just visitations of judicial vengeance. Nor did the royal Agrippa hesitate to gratify, in this slight and reasonable matter, the express wishes of the reverend heads of the Jewish faith and law. Ah! how little did he think, that in that trifling movement was bound up the destiny of ages, and that its results would send his name——though then so loved and honored——like Pharaoh’s, down to all time, a theme of religious horror and holy hatred, to the unnumbered millions of a thousand races, and lands then unknown;——an awful doom, from which one act of benign protection, or of prudent kindness, to that feeble band of hated, outcast innovators, might have retrieved his fame, and canonized it in the faithful memory of the just, till the glory of the old patriarchs and prophets should grow dim. But, without one thought of consequences, a prophetic revelation of which would so have appalled him, he unhesitatingly stretched out his arm in vindictive cruelty over the church of Christ, for the gratification of those whose praise was to him more than the favor of God. Singling out first the person whom momentary circumstances might render most prominent or obnoxious to censure, he at once doomed to a bloody death the elder son of Zebedee, the second of the great apostolic THREE. No sooner was this cruel sentence executed, than, with a most remarkable steadiness in the execution of his bloody plan, he followed up this action, so pleasing to the Jews, by another similar movement. Peter, the active leader of the heretical host, ever foremost in braving the authority of the constituted teachers of the law, and in exciting commotion and dissatisfaction among the commonalty, was now seized by a military force, too strong to fear any resistance from popular movements, which had so much deterred the Sanhedrim. This occurred during the week of the passover; and such was king Agrippa’s profound regard for all things connected with his national religion, that he would not violate the sanctity of this holy festival by the execution of a criminal, however deserving of vengeance he might seem in that instance. The fate of Peter being thus delayed, he was therefore committed to prison, (probably in castle Antonia,) and to prevent all possibility of his finding means to escape prepared ruin again, he was confined to the charge of sixteen Roman soldiers, divided into four sets, of four men each, who were to keep him under constant supervision day and night, by taking turns, each set an equal time; and according to the established principles of the Roman military discipline, with the perfect understanding that if, on the conclusion of the passover, the prisoner was not forthcoming, the guards should answer the failure with their lives. These decided and careful arrangements being made, the king, with his gratified friends in the Sanhedrim and among the rabble, gave themselves up to the enjoyment of the great national festival, with a peculiar zest, hightened by the near prospect of the utter overthrow of the advancing heresy, by the sweeping blow that robbed them of their two great leaders, and more especially of him who had been so active in mischievous attempts to perpetuate the memory of the original founder of the sect, and to frustrate the good effect of his bloody execution, by giving out that the crucified Jesus still lived, and would yet come in vengeance on his murderers. While such triumphant reflections swelled the festal enjoyments of the powerful foes of Christ, the unhappy company of his persecuted disciples passed through this anniversary-week with the most mournful reminiscences and anticipations. Ten years before, in unutterable agony and despair, they had parted, as they then supposed forever, with their beloved Lord; and now, after years of devotion to the work for which he had commissioned them, they were called to renew the deep sorrows of that parting, in the removal of those who had been foremost among them in the great work, cheering them and leading them on through toil and peril, with a spirit truly holy, and with a fearless energy, kindred with that of their divine Lord. Of these two divinely appointed chiefs, one had already poured out his blood beneath the executioner’s sword, and the other, their great leader, the Rock of the church, was now only waiting the speedy close of the festal week, to crown his glorious course, and his enemies’ cruel policy, by the same bloody doom; meanwhile held in the safe keeping of an ever-watchful Roman guard, forbidding even the wildest hope of escape. Yet why should they wholly despair? On that passover, ten years before, how far more gloomy and hopeless the glance they threw on the cross of their Lord! Yet from that doubly hopeless darkness, what glorious light sprang up to them? And was the hand that then broke through the bands of death and the gates of Hades, now so shortened that it could not sever the vile chains of paltry tyranny which confined this faithful apostle, nor open wide the guarded gates of his castle prison? Surely there was still hope for faith which had been taught such lessons of undoubting trust in God. Nor were they thoughtless of the firm support and high consolations which their experience afforded. In prayer intense and unceasing, they poured out their souls in sympathetic grief and supplication, for the relief of their great elder brother from his deadly peril; and in sorrowful entreaty the whole church continued day and night, for the safety of Peter.

Castle Antonia.——For Josephus’s account of the position and erection of this work, see my note on page [95], (section 8.) There has been much speculation about the place of the prison to which Peter was committed. The sacred text (Acts xii. 10,) makes it plain that it was without the city itself, since after leaving the prison it was still necessary to enter the city by “the iron gate.” Walch, Kuinoel and Bloomfield adopt the view that it was in one of the towers or castles that fortified the walls. Wolf and others object to the view that it was without the walls; because, as Wolf says, it was not customary to have public prisons outside of the cities, since the prisoners might in that case be sometimes rescued by a bold assault from some hardy band of comrades, &c. But this objection is worth nothing against castle Antonia, which, though it stood entirely separated from the rest of the city, was vastly strong, and by its position as well as fortification, impregnable to any common force;——a circumstance which would at once suggest and recommend it as a secure place for one who, like Peter, had escaped once from the common prison. There was always a Roman garrison in Antonia. (Josephus, Jewish War, V. v. 8.)

In the steady contemplation of the nearness of his bloody doom, the great apostle remained throughout the passover, shut off from all the consolations of fraternal sympathy, and awaiting the end of the few hours which were still allotted by the religious scruples of his mighty sovran. In his high and towering prison in Castle Antonia, parted only by a deep, broad rift in the precipitous rocks, from the great terraces of the temple itself, from whose thronged courts now rung the thanksgiving songs of a rejoicing nation, he heard them, sending up in thousands of voices the praise of their fathers’ God, who still remembered Israel in mercy, renewing their ancient glories under the bright and peaceful dominion of their new-crowned king. And with the anthems of praise to God which sounded along the courts and porches of the temple, were no doubt heard, too, the thanks of many a grateful Hebrew for the goodness of the generous king, who had pledged his royal word to complete the noble plan of that holy pile, as suited the splendid conceptions of the founder. And this was the king whose decree had doomed that lonely and desolate prisoner in the castle, to a bloody and shameful death,——as a crowning offering at the close of the great festival; and how few among that vast throng, before whose eyes he was to yield his life, would repine at the sentence that dealt exterminating vengeance on the obstinately heretical preacher of the crucified Nazarene’s faith! Well might such dark visions of threatening ruin appal a heart whose enthusiasm had caught its flame from the unholy fires of worldly ambition, or devoted its energies to the low purpose of human ascendency. And truly sad would have been the lonely thoughts of this very apostle, if this doom had found him in the spirit which first moved him to devote himself to the cause which now required the sacrifice of life. But higher hopes and feelings had inspired his devoted exertions for ten years, and higher far, the consolations which now sustained him in his friendless desolation. This very fate, he had long been accustomed to regard as the earthly meed of his labors; and he had too often been threatened with it, to be overwhelmed by its near prospect. Vain, then, were all solemn details of that awful sentence, to strike terror into his fixed soul,——vain the dark sureties of the high, steep rock, the massive, lofty walls, the iron gates, the ever-watchful Roman guards, the fetters and manacles, to control or check the

“Eternal spirit of the chainless mind!——

Brightest in dungeons, Liberty! thou art,

For there thy habitation is the heart.”