Such a man was not likely to be excessively troubled by scruples about the execution of an innocent victim. On the other hand it is perfectly possible that he might, comparing the prisoner with the prosecutors, prefer the former. Having no love for the Jewish people, an object of their antipathy might become to a certain extent an object of his sympathy. But beyond this, it would be absurd to suppose that a man of the character of Jesus would inspire him with any sort of regard, or that he would hesitate to take his life if it suited his purpose. The simplest account of the trial bears out this expectation. Questioned by Pilate as to the charge preferred against him, of claiming to be the king of the Jews, the prisoner answered by an admission of its truth: "Thou sayest it." To other accusations urged against him by the priests he made no reply. Pilate wondered at his silence, and endeavored, but without success, to extract an answer. While the conduct of the accused man must have appeared to him not a little strange, Pilate may also have thought that the pretensions to kingship of a peaceable fanatic, with but few and obscure followers, were nowise dangerous to the Roman government. It was his custom at this festival to release a prisoner, leaving the people, or the Jewish authorities, to decide whom. He now proposed to release Jesus, but the suggestion was not accepted, and the liberation of a well-known political prisoner, who had been engaged in an insurrectionary enterprise, was demanded instead. Pilate naturally enough preferred the would-be Messiah to the actual rebel. The Jews as naturally preferred the rebel. They clamored for the crucifixion of Jesus, and Pilate—afraid perhaps that by too much anxiety to save him he would expose himself to misrepresentation before Tiberius—gave way to their demand.