CHAPTER XXVII.

FATE OF THE ENEMIES OF JESUS.

According to the calculation which we have adopted, the death of Jesus took place in the year 33 of our era. It could not, at all events, be either anterior to the year 29, the preaching of John and Jesus having commenced in the year 28, or posterior to the year 35, as in the year 36, and probably before the Passover, Pilate and Kaïapha both lost their offices. The death of Jesus, moreover, had no connexion whatever with these two removals. In his retirement., Pilate probably never dreamt for a moment of the forgotten episode which was to transmit his pitiful renown to the most distant posterity. As to Kaïapha, he was succeeded by Jonathan, his brother-in-law, son of the same Hanan who had played the principal part in the trial of Jesus. The Sadducean family of Hanan retained the pontificate a long time, and, more powerful than ever, continued to wage against the disciples and the family of Jesus the implacable war which they had commenced against the Founder. Christianity, which owed to him the definitive act of its foundation, owed to him also its first martyrs. Hanan was looked upon as one of the happiest men of his age. The actual person guilty of the death of Jesus ended his life overwhelmed with honours and consideration, without ever doubting for an instant that he had rendered a great service to the nation. His sons continued to reign around the temple, and, kept down with difficulty by the procurators, they ofttimes dispensed 251with the consent of the latter in order to gratify their haughty and violent instincts. Antipas and Herodias soon disappeared also from the political arena. Herod Agrippa having been raised to the dignity of king by Caligula, the jealous Herodias swore that she too would be queen. Pressed incessantly by this ambitious woman, who treated him as a coward, because he suffered a superior in his family, Antipas overcame his natural indolence, and went to Rome in order to solicit the title which his nephew had just obtained (the year 39 of our era). But the affair turned out very badly. Injured in the eyes of the emperor by Herod Agrippa, Antipas was removed, and spent the rest of his life in exile at Lyons and in Spain. Herodias followed him in his misfortunes. A hundred years, at least, were to elapse before the name of their obscure subject (who had become God) should appear in these remote countries to inscribe upon their tombs the murder of John the Baptist.

As to the wretched Judas of Kerioth, terrible legends were current about his death. It was maintained that he had bought a field in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem with the price of his perfidy. There was, indeed, on the south of Mount Zion, a place named Hakeldama (the field of blood). It was alleged that this was the property acquired by the traitor. According to one tradition he killed himself. According to another, he had a fall in his field, which caused his bowels to gush out. According to others, he died of a kind of dropsy, which, being accompanied by repulsive circumstances, was regarded as a chastisement of heaven. The desire of making out Judas to be another Absalom, and of showing in him the accomplishment of the menaces which the Psalmist pronounces against the perfidious friend, may have 252given rise to these legends. Perhaps, in the retirement of his field of Hakeldama, Judas led a quiet and obscure life; while his former friends prepared the conquest of the world, and spread the report of his infamy. Perhaps, also, the terrible hatred which was concentrated on his head drove him to violent acts, in which were seen the finger of heaven.

The time of the great Christian revenge was, moreover, far distant. The new sect had nothing to do with the catastrophe which Judaism was soon to experience. The synagogue did not understand till much later to what it exposed itself in practising laws of intolerance. The empire was certainly still further from suspecting that its future destroyer had been born. For nearly three hundred years it pursued its path without suspecting that in its bosom principles were growing which were destined to subject humanity to a complete transformation. At once theocratic and democratic, the idea thrown by Jesus into the world was, together with the invasion of the Germans, the most active cause of the dissolution of the work of the Cæsars. On the one hand, the right of all men to participate in the kingdom of God was proclaimed. On the other, religion was henceforth separated in principle from the state. The rights of conscience, outside of political law, resulted in the constitution of a new power,—the “spiritual power.” This power has more than once belied its origin. For ages the bishops have been princes, and the Pope has been a king. The pretended empire of souls has shown itself at various conjunctures as a frightful tyranny, employing the rack and the stake in order to maintain itself. But the day will come when the separation will bear its fruits, when the domain of things spiritual will cease to be called a “power,” and will be denominated a “liberty.” Proceeding 253from the bold affirmation of a man of the people, formed in the presence of the people, beloved and admired first by the people, Christianity was stamped by an original character which will never be effaced. It was the first triumph of revolution, the victory of the popular sentiment, the advent of the simple in heart, the inauguration of the beautiful as understood by the people. Jesus thus, in the aristocratic societies of antiquity, opened the breach through which all will pass.

The civil power, in fact, although innocent of the death of Jesus (it only countersigned the sentence, and even in spite of itself), ought to bear a great share of the responsibility. In presiding at the scene of Calvary, the state gave itself a serious blow. A legend full of all kinds of irreverence prevailed, and became known to everybody—a legend in which the constituted authorities played a hateful part, in which it was the accused that was right, and in which the judges and the guards were leagued against the truth. Seditious in the highest degree, the history of the Passion, spread by a thousand popular images, represented the Roman eagles as sanctioning the most iniquitous of executions, soldiers executing it, and a prefect commanding it. What a blow for all established powers! They have never entirely recovered from it. How can they assume infallibility in respect to poor men, when they have on their conscience the great contumely of Gethsemane?