CHAPTER THREE.
THE BROTHERS.
Meantime our party passed down one of the principal streets of the ancient city, into the market square. Here many were engaged in unpacking fruits and vegetables from huge baskets strapped across the backs of asses, and arranging them under awnings to preserve them from the scorching rays of the sun. In the richest profusion were piles of fruits and vegetables, luscious grapes and fragrant bananas, lemons, limes, figs, dates, bread-fruit and a variety of vegetables such as the tropics alone can produce. Purchasers were already thronging to the market, and as our party from the city of Gideon passed on, Korihor shouted to them, as he had done to the crowd at the gate, which resulted in quickly gathering a throng of men who eagerly questioned the guards as to the man's offense—"alleged offense, you mean," he cried, "for I am guilty of no crime, except we have fallen on those evil days to which the idle traditions of our fathers tend, when to disbelieve the words of ancient dotards styling themselves prophets, and giving expression to one's honest thoughts has become a crime; or when resisting the oppression of judges, who ever have one ear turned to a priest to learn what superstition teaches is the word of God, be a wrong; and when to be the friend of liberty, a foe to tyranny whether in priest or judge—and an enemy to an enslaving superstition, is considered worthy of bonds and the prison."
This and much more that he said as he passed along, surrounded by his guards, produced no little excitement in the crowd, for in those ancient days and distant climes, as well as in our own day those who persuaded men they were not well governed had many willing followers; and then as now demagogues, blasphemers and the enemies of law and order knew what a tower of strength the cry of freedom gave to a cause, however unworthy or destructive of the very thing in the interest of which, ostensibly, they worked.
Having passed through the marketsquare and through a narrow, irregular street, with massive, two-story stone houses on either side, which marked the most ancient part of the city, the guards suddenly turned to the right into a large square, on one side of which stood an immense structure of hewn stone with a wide, high porch, supported by massive pillars, and approached by a broad flight of stone steps. This was the Hall of Justice, as indicated in an inscription carved in the stone above the porch. To the right of the building extended a high stone wall in which was hung a heavy wooden door, plentifully studded with iron spikes. To this door the guard who had led the party from the east gate of the city directed his footsteps, and taking a small wooden mallet suspended by a chain fastened to the door post, he struck the door three smart blows, and a moment later a small wicket in the upper part of the door was opened and a harsh voice demanded what was wanted.
"A guard of horsemen from the city of Gideon bring with them to the judgment seat of the High Priest and Chief Judge, one Korihor, charged with seeking to breed sedition and subvert the government; they deliver him to the care of the keeper of the prison—open the door and admit him at once—the people are becoming excited and may raise a tumult." The latter clause of the sentence was delivered hurriedly and in an undertone. There was a profuse rattling of chains, the falling of an iron bar, and the door swung open with a grating sound. Meantime the guards of Korihor had assisted him to dismount and with their prisoner before them, and leading their horses, passed into the prison-yard. A number of men pressed close after them, but were denied admittance by the gate keeper, who drove them back and closed and barred the door.
Seeing Korihor safely bestowed, and their horses cared for, the guards from Gideon were conducted across the square fronting the Hall of Justice, to the house of the Chief Judge, and presented to him the communication or commitment from the High Priest and Chief Judge of Gideon.
The crowd which had been attracted by the unusual spectacle of the small cavalcade passing through their streets, and the animated speeches of the prisoner, still lingered in the public square, gathered in groups, discussing the events of the morning. "I tell you," said a hard visaged man to a group of listeners standing near the center of the square,—"I tell you there is too much truth in the complaints of Korihor. The High Priests and the Chief Judges are becoming too arbitrary in their rulings; there's too much said about law and order and not enough regard paid to personal liberty."
"Tut, man," said a voice from the outskirts of the group, "whenever has a disturber of the peace, a blasphemer of God, an enemy to religion come amongst us but what he has taken refuge behind the cry of 'liberty?' So did Nehor in the first year of the reign of the judges; so did Amlici five years later; and Korihor is such as they were, and with like cunning adopts their cry of 'liberty,' when in reality his principles lead to the destruction of freedom and all its safeguards. Believe me friends," he continued, addressing the crowd among whom there began to be great agitation—"Believe me, not every one that cries out against God, religion and the law is a friend to freedom, they are always its enemies. The law stands watch and guard over your rights and liberties; by that Korihor will be judged and justice rendered. In the meantime let not your minds be carried away by the persuasions of men whose business is agitation, who prosper by violence, and thrive on tumults." So saying, the young man, for such he was, putting his arm about a still younger man who stood at his side, walked away. The crowd also began to break up, the man who had been harangueing it when interrupted, muttering that it could only be expected that the sons of the High Priest would defend the oppressions of their father; they themselves were interested.
As the two young men were crossing the square, the younger said to his brother: "Notwithstanding what you said just now to the crowd, Shiblon, and the truth of it in general, I think this treatment of Korihor is too harsh. Our law protects a man in his belief and in the expression of it; and though Korihor hath a proud bearing and holds what you believe to be dangerous views, still I think the officers at Gideon exceeded their jurisdiction in sending him bound to this city."
"Holds what I believe to be dangerous views! And do not you believe them to be dangerous? Corianton, I fear the spirit of unbelief, the moral and spiritual poison that the orations of this same man infused into your soul when he first appeared in our city, hath not yet been worked out." The hot blood rushed to the temples of Corianton at this accusation, and he replied with some warmth, not unmixed with bitterness: "It has not been the fault of brother Helaman or yourself, then, for I have heard little else since his departure from Zarahemla but your lame arguments in support of the shadowy traditions of our fathers about the coming of Messiah and his Atonement."
"I am sorry to find you in this mood my brother," replied Shiblon, "and it grieves me to hear you speak so lightly of things that are sacred; but if too much restraint has been thrown upon the liberty of Korihor by the authorities of Gideon, you know full well that justice will be done him in the court of our father and the Chief Judge—you know that no oppression is countenanced by them."
At this moment the guard from the gate who had conducted those in charge of Korihor to the presence of the Chief Judge passed them, and in answer to a question from Corianton replied that the case of Korihor was appointed to be heard on the morrow.
"It is the time of day," said Shiblon to his brother, "appointed for the meeting of the priesthood, to consider the mission about to be appointed to the Zoramites. Our father sent me to find you and bring you to the council, for I think he wishes you to be a party to the undertaking."
"You may go, brother, but I will not," replied Corianton. "I have no relish for these dull councils, and as for converting the Zoramites, they may be as nearly right in their theology as yourself or our father, for aught I know; the whole subject is so wrapt in mystery that we can at least afford to be liberal, and not bind men and thrust them into prison for daring to assert their unbelief in these mysterious things."
"But it is the express wish of father that you should attend this council," said Shiblon, "out of respect for him, will you not come?"
"Say, to our good father the Priest, that I am gone to visit one who is cast into prison for the cause of liberty." Then seeing the pained expression in his brother's face, his manner changed, and placing his hand affectionately on his shoulder he said: "Shiblon, go thou to the council, and give no further thought to me; let me follow the bent of my own mind. Your steady patience; your deep conviction as to the truth of the traditions of our fathers: your wisdom and goodness make you a fitting minister for God, if such a being there is; you are destined to become a pillar in the church; not so with me; my wild love of liberty can ill brook the restraints of the gospel or the priesthood, and the skepticism ingrained in my very nature disqualifies me for the work I could readily believe you were designed to support. But I'll none of it, until I see some manifestation of the power of God spoken of so frequently by our father and of which the scriptures speak on nearly every page; so farewell." Turning on his heel, he bent his footsteps in the direction of the prison gate, while Shiblon with a troubled heart stood gazing after him.
"David had his Absalom, Lehi, his Laman, and this my brother, my father's darling son, seems destined to wring my father's heart, as they did theirs. Oh! why is it, that those formed in the very prodigality of nature—endowed with a heaven-born intelligence— genius—must be cursed with a doubting, rebellious spirit that weighs down all their better parts, and wrecks the hopes, built on what their talents promise? Oh, that some good angel would my brother meet, as was my father met, shake off his doubting fears, and give him back to us converted to the truth and pledged to its maintenance, as was my father! Then how would shine that master power within him which overawes men's minds or bends them to his purpose! Brother, flout me, resist me how you will; I'll follow you through all your fortunes good or ill, and win you yet to God and truth!"
With these words on his lips, and this pious purpose in his heart, Shiblon, the son of Alma the Priest, directed his steps to the council chamber.