As the sentence was passed, and Jesus was being led out to be scourged, the veil that had for a brief period concealed the inhabitants of the regions of death from our view, was removed, and again the arch-demon and his hosts appeared. Then he raised his hand, from which issued a broad sheet of sulphuric flame that moved and flashed like unto a banner over the vaults below. Upon it was written, "Victory to Apollyon. This day have I prevailed with men, and they have condemned the innocent." Then I heard ten thousand hoarse sepulchral voices saying, "Hail, thou Prince of Darkness, all hail! Thou hast prevailed, and man shall feel the sting of death. Go up to victory! Go ye up; for lo! we arise from our nether abode, and witness the God-man as he shall writhe beneath the scorpion lash and agonize upon the Roman Cross." "Ah-ha, ah-ha!" arose in swelling volumes from the demoniac abodes below, and the air was rent with the loud acclaim uniting with the infernal chant from the mad populace that rushed to the scene of cruelty.

"And is it not enough?" cried a voice in manifestation of deep lamentation, "O Justice! art thou inexorable? is not the ransom made perfect? Must we endure the scene? Shall the innocent suffer at the hands of sinners longer? Spare, O spare! Lo! his back is torn with lashes! His temples bleed! His form trembles beneath the heavy burden! He groans in Spirit! Must the power of evil prevail?

Then Justice answered, "He entereth into suffering with the fallen race, and endureth until the time appointed. His life is not taken, but he giveth it for many; and although Satan triumphed for a season, the strong man armed shall enter his abode."

The suspense continued until every being was absorbed and pervaded by its influence. Again Jesus stood before us; His form was disfigured, and he was weak and faint. Still they placed upon his mangled back the huge engine upon which to execute him, and forced him along, amid the shouts and jeers and blasphemies of the people, toward the place of crucifixion.

Until this time I had been dumb, made so by the awfulness of the varied and mingled scenes that were rapidly passing before me. But as Jesus trembled and reeled beneath his load, and while his body was bleeding from the cruel scourgings, and his temples were gored and swollen from the effects of the crown of thorns, and the maddening cry, "Away with him, crucify him, crucify him!" rolled over the city, I could endure no longer, and exclaimed to my ,guide, "Why will not Justice spare the innocent and let the guilty suffer? Let the world abide the consequence of violated law, nor let innocence endure the pain and woe necessary to that union with the sinner necessary to his salvation. O why shall this scene continue? Why shall Jesus bear the cross? Why shall the infatuated race be permitted to inflict pain upon the pure, yea, him who seeketh their good?"

Still Jesus moved slowly along, ready to fall, faint, weary and in agony. He spake no word, but looked with love and pity upon his tormentors. While I was reasoning and wondering, I discovered that he moved more unsteadily, less firm even than before, until he sank down beneath his burden. His humanity had failed, and as he yielded from his Spirit within him, he groaned, and all was still. For the first time, his persecutors and crucifers paused in their cruelty, and manifested care for him; and I thought perhaps that apparent care was on account of fear that they should not enjoy his protracted suffering upon the cross, beneath which he now lay bleeding. As he faintly yielded, the effect upon the saints and angels was beyond any power to describe. Truly it appeared that the very heavens would fail, and happiness so far depart as never to be restored.

The scene had been increasing in its awful interest; but when Jesus yielded beneath the heavy load and the continued scourging, all the spirits moved as if they fain would have relieved him; whereupon a voice uttered from afar, "It is written of him, he treadeth the wine-press alone." "Even so," said Justice, "and let the inhabitants of earth, and the angels of heaven, know that he endureth for sinners. By his stripes they are healed. He entereth the death-gate, that thereby he may rescue those who, by transgression, have fallen." "Amen," answered Mercy, who now appeared above the Cross, "amen; he offered himself for sinners. Justice, here is the Offering I bring." "Thou hast said," replied Justice, "he suffers, but he suffers in the hands of those whom he seeks to rescue from the consequences of a law they have violated. It is no vindictive wrath inflicted from the Father of life, but the consequences of his mission, and the heart he seeketh to save, made malicious by inversion and evil inspiration. Let not the heavens above, or the earth beneath, or the lost who dwell beneath the earth, declare against the goodness of the Lord Creator; for it is the nature of sin thus to oppose and inflict, and seek to destroy good, or its manifestation, and in this sin is only made to appear in its unrestrained nature. Sin, uncontrolled, would blot out the universal sun, make the heavens a pandemonium of evil and malicious beings, break in pieces the government of the universal Lord Creator, and render void the moral principles and nature of universal heavens of intellectual existences, demolish God’s throne, and blast eternal things. Sin is the opposite of good, knows no sympathy, is a fountain of malicious designs; and thus, when Jesus appears a ransom for the sinner, and by reason of the law of being, enters into sympathy with those who are the subjects of violated law, they, controlled by the principles of evil, seek to torture and destroy him, although he is the messenger of peace and good-will unto them.

"Men who are fallen, yet not immortal demons, are the occupants of the intermediate. Their souls Jesus seeks to save, and demons seek to destroy. Jesus entered their abode as their Redeemer, Apollyon approaches to destroy. With these two principles there can be no union, and therefore Jesus suffers—not by Heaven’s decree, but let it be repeated, by reason of his goodness, and his mission for the sinner, and entrance into the scene of combat with death and hell."

"And shall he prevail?" inquired an angel who had listened to the address of Justice

"Yea," uttered Mercy, "he shall prevail. He is the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the bright and morning Star. He shall prevail, and shall unloose the seals." "Alleluia! he shall prevail," arose from the myriads congregated. "Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as in heaven." "Even so, amen!" said Justice, and again silence prevailed.

No movement or voice disturbed the spell-bound atmosphere while Justice and Mercy paused; for it appeared that all who witnessed the scene, even the wicked on earth, and those from spheres of darkness among the regions of the dead, and those from nether abodes where evil reigns, felt the innocence of Jesus the meek sufferer. Surely it could not have been otherwise when his true character was considered. No fault could be found in him, in his life, betrayal, or when condemned to the Cross. Thus I reasoned, and thus must all conclude, when remembering that he had been betrayed—arrayed in mock royalty before Herod—endured cruel and false accusations of the priests. His temples had been pierced with thorns, his back lacerated with severe scourging, and yet he had not opened his mouth in complaint. He had in candor replied to those interrogations, upon the answer of which it would seem his destiny depended. No evasion of truth had stained his holy lips. Finally, in all things he had honored his high claim to divinity, and established his nature in righteousness.

In his life he had moved with men as a benefactor. He had healed the sick, raised the dead, exorcised evil spirits, restoring those who were possessed and grievously tormented by them to quietude and happiness. He had bound up the broken hearted; caused the mourner to rejoice. He had forgiven transgressors, filling their hearts with gladness and heavenly love. He had faithfully reproved the vile, and cleansed the temple of money changers. And when opposed and persecuted, and even condemned to the Cross, he had not reviled, but by his meekness and harmony he had revealed that which could only have been Divine.

When the cross upon which he was to be executed was laid upon his bleeding shoulders, he had meekly bowed under it, and borne it along, amid loud aclamations and bitter taunts; thus occupying the most humiliating, as well as suffering, condition. And when fallen beneath the Cross, exhausted in his humanity by excessive and protracted suffering, his spirit groaned, but without complaint. Then he looked upon his accusers and tormentors with pity. Then he remembered their depraved state, and felt compassion for them. Thus the Savior of sinners suffered, when none sympathized save a few personal friends, whose spirits agonized with him, but who had no means to offer aid. He bled, groaned, fainted, and fell, but no tear stole down the hardened cheek of the cruel Jew. No soft hand touched gently his wounded temples. No words of consolation were spoken to him. Alone he endured, alone he bled, alone he struggled to bear the cross. How could those who witnessed fail to sympathize with him? or mortals refrain a tear? How fail to love one so excellent! How prevent their souls from adoring one so worthy, and the more especially since he suffered, not only innocent, but for their salvation!

Finally, the soldiers commanded Jesus to arise and proceed to Calvary. Obedient, he struggled beneath the cross; but his trembling limbs failed, and again he sank back in his agony. Who can depict the scene? What artist, with pencil formed of immortal colors, could so touch the sense of man, and blend the light and shadows with skill sufficient to reveal the great reality of the scene?

There was the Savior, the spotless, holy, and lovely Jesus, struggling with convulsive effort, under the scourger’s lash, to raise the cross beneath which he had fallen. Blood from his bleeding body stained the ground. The severed flesh quivered from repeated strokes by the athletic scourger’s hand. His swollen visage was more marred than any man’s. His eye of love was concealed beneath blood and tears. His holy lips moved, prompted by his heart, which was ever full of love and pity, and they accented, "Sinner, for thee I freely suffer; for thee I endure these afflictions, yea, I endure them that thou mayest be saved."

After repeated ineffectual efforts to force Jesus to bear his cross alone, and anxious to revel in his sufferings during the final trial, orders were given to the soldiers, who compelled one Simon a Cyrenean to bear the cross. And again they proceeded.

As they advanced slowly toward Calvary, a company of females approached the dictators of the dread tragedy, and bowing before them, raised their hands, and in the most affecting manner, pleaded that Jesus should be released. No attitude could better comport with the object of their prayer. Their sorrow was inexpressible; their cause was just; their petition humble and urgent, but all of no avail. "He shall perish," said the proud priests; and again the multitude shouted, "Crucify him, crucify him. Test his power. If he be the Son of God, let him break the arm of strength that moves him toward Calvary, where his weakness, folly and blasphemy shall be revealed."