"We did not seek to try this cause," he said. "It was brought before us by the wish of this sinful man himself. But if we must judge, let us judge like God! We read of Him—that he 'lays righteousness to the line and judgment to the plummet.' Let us do the same. That a great wrong hath been done is evident to every mind. It is not meet that such wrongs should go unpunished! These two transgressors have suffered; but who believes that such wrongs may justly be so soon followed by felicity? It would be an encouragement to evil-doers and a premium upon vice! Who would refrain from violently rending the marriage bonds or sundering any sacred tie, if in a few short months the fruit of the guilty deed might be eaten in peace by the culprit? What assurance may we have that the lesson which has been but superficially graven on this guilty heart may not be obliterated in the enjoyment of triumph? Why should these youths make such unseemly haste? If they are indeed in earnest to seek the truth and lay to heart the meaning of this experience into which their sinful hearts have led them, let them of their own accord and out of their humble and contrite hearts devote a year to meditation and prayer. Let them show to others they have learned that to live righteously and soberly, and not to grasp ill-gotten gains or enjoy unhallowed pleasures, is the chief end of human life! The hour is ripe for such a demonstration. We have seen other evidences among us of an unholy hungering after the unlawful pleasures of life. It is time that a halt were called. If this community is dedicated to righteousness, then let us exalt the standard. It is at critical moments like this that history is made and character formed. If we weaken now, if we permit our hearts to overpower our consciences, God will smite us with His wrath, vice will rush upon us like a flood, and we shall be given over to the lust of the flesh and the pride of life! 'To the law and to the testimony, my brethren.'"
With his long arm extended and his deep-set eyes glowing, he repeated from memory the solemn words:
"'Behold ye trust in lying words that cannot profit. Will ye steal, murder and commit adultery and swear falsely, and burn incense to Baal, and walk after other gods whom ye know not, and come and stand before me in this house which is called by my name and say, "We are delivered to do all these abominations?" Is this house which is called by my name, become a den of robbers in your eyes? Behold, even I have said it, saith the Lord. But go ye now into my place which was Shiloh, where I set my name at the first, and see what I did to it for the wickedness of my people Israel! And now because ye have done all these works, saith the Lord—and I spake unto you (rising up early and speaking), but ye heard not, and I called you but ye answered not—therefore will I do unto this house which is called by my name (wherein ye trust) and unto the place which I gave unto you and your fathers, as I have done to Shiloh! And I will cast you out of my sight—even the whole people of Ephraim! Therefore pray not thou for this people, neither lift up cry nor prayers for them, neither make intercession to me—for I will not hear thee!'
"This is my message! This is the advice ye have invited! Wait a year! Watch and pray! Fit yourselves for the enjoyment of your love by repentance."
The impression made by these solemn words was tremendous. It was as if eternity had suddenly dawned in that dim-lit room, and the leaves of the book of doom had been opened.
There had been stillness before, but now there was the silence of the grave, and at this dramatic moment one of the tallow candles whose feeble light had served but to render the darkness visible, spluttered, went out, and intensified the silence with a meaningless and exasperating sound. No one knew how to break the spell which these intense and terrible words had cast over them. Their limbs and faculties were both benumbed.
Upon Pepeeta this message had fallen like a thunderbolt. Her Oriental imagination, her awakened conscience, her throbbing heart had all been thrilled. She did not move; her eyes were still fixed on the prophet; her face was white; her hands were clasped tightly in her lap.
David leaned forward in his seat and listened like a culprit hearing sentence from a judge. Those who were closely observing his noble countenance saw it suddenly light up with the glow of a spiritual ecstasy, and rightly conjectured that he was burning with the zeal of martyrdom. He saw his way, for the first time, to a worthy expiation of his sin. The prophet had interpreted the purpose of God and pointed out the path of duty. He started to his feet, but at the same instant over in the corner of the room rose the figure of a man whose full form, benignant countenance and benevolent manner afforded the most marked contrast to that of the Jeremiah who had electrified them by his appeal to righteousness.
He moved toward one of the half dozen candles which were still burning, and stood within the narrow circle of its feeble rays. Drawing from the inner pocket of his coat a well-worn volume he opened it, held it up to the light and began to read. The tones of his voice were clear and mellifluous, his articulation slow and distinct, and his soul seemed permeated with the wondrous depth and beauty of what is perhaps the most exquisite passage in the literature of the world. It was the story of the prodigal son.