"Do not try to comfort me, Mary! There is no ground for hope more! He is dead—dead! All is lost! We who trusted in him have only to fly, if we would save our wretched lives, into Galilee, and return once more to our nets! The sun which shone so dazzlingly has proved a phantom light and gone out in darkness! He whom I could not but love, I see that I loved too well, since he proves not what I believed him to be! Oh, how could he be so like the Son of God and yet not be! Yet I loved and adored him as if he were the very Son of the Highest! But I have seen him die as a man—I have gazed on his lifeless body! I have beheld the deep wound made into his very heart by the Roman spear! I cast myself upon him, when he was taken down from the cross, and implored him, by his love for me, to give some sign that he was not holden by death! I placed my trembling hands over his heart. It was still—still—motionless as stone, like any other dead man's! He was dead—dead! With him die all our hopes—the hopes of Israel!"
"He may live again," said Mary, softly and hesitatingly, as if she herself had no such hope. "He raised Lazarus, thou dost remember!"
"Yes, for Jesus was living to do it," answered John, stopping in his walk; "but how can the dead raise the dead? No, he will never move, speak, nor breathe again!"
But I will not further delay the account of his trial and condemnation, for you will be anxious to know how such a man could be condemned to a malefactor's death. In my last letter I spoke of his arrest through the traitorous part enacted by Judas. Led by his captors, bound by the wrists with a cord, Jesus was taken from the dark groves of Olivet, where he had been found at prayer, and conducted with great noise into the city by Cæsar's gate. It is near this archway that Rabbi Amos lives. I will copy for you my Cousin Mary's account of it to Martha of Bethany, just written by her, instead of adding any more to my own.
"I went out upon the basilica, which overlooked the streets," says Mary, "and beheld a multitude advancing with torches flashing, and soon they came opposite the house, at least two hundred men in number, half clad and savage looking, with fierce eyes and scowling looks. Here and there among them was a Levite urging them on, and I also beheld Abner the priest firing their passions by loud oratory and eager gesticulations. Behind rode five Roman horsemen, with levelled spears, guarding a young man who walked with a firm step. I burst into tears. It was Jesus! His locks were dishevelled, his beard torn, his face marred, and his garments rent. He was pale and suffering, yet walked with a firm step. I burst into tears, and so did Adina, who had come out to see what was passing. He looked up and said touchingly, 'Mourn not for me.'
"He would have said more, but the priest smote him rudely upon the mouth, and the crowd, following his example, would have done him further insult but for the Roman soldiers, who turned their spears every way to guard him from violence, for they had rescued him from the terrible rage of the Jews by their centurion's orders, and were commanded to bring him safely before Pilate. So, thus guarded and escorted by the men who thirsted for his blood, he was led onward to the Pretorium, where the Roman Procurator resided. Gradually the whole multitude disappeared in the distance when silence, a dread and unearthly silence, succeeded. I turned and looked in Adina's face. She was leaning, as colorless as marble, against one of the columns of the basilica.
"'What can all this mean?' she said, with emotion. 'Can it be possible he has suffered himself to be taken—he who could destroy or make alive with a word? What means this dreadful scene we have just witnessed?'
"I could not answer. All I knew was what my eyes just beheld—that Jesus our Prophet, our King, our Messias, on whom all our hopes and the joy of Israel rested, was dragged a prisoner through the streets, helpless and without a helper. I trembled with I knew not what unknown forebodings. Suddenly Adina cried:
"'He cannot be harmed! He cannot die! He is a mighty Prophet, and has power that will strike his enemies dead. Let us not fear. He has yielded himself only the more terribly to defeat and destroy his foes. We will not fear what Pilate or the priests will do! They cannot harm the Anointed Shiloh of the Lord!'