The sobs cut the very heart of the men who heard, and the song, still welling its way through the court-room, blended in the hush. At length one man protested:
“Judge,” said he, “have we got to submit to this? We’re here to take our punishment, but this—” He, too, began to sob.
It was impossible to proceed with the business of the court, yet the judge gave no order to stop the song. The police sergeant, after a surprized effort to keep the men in line, stept back and waited with the rest. The song moved on to its climax:
“Jerusalem, Jerusalem! Sing for the night is o’er!
Hosanna in the highest! hosanna for ever-more!”
In an ecstasy of melody the last words rang out, and then there was a silence.
The judge looked into the faces of the men before him. There was not one who was not touched by the song; not one in whom some better impulse was not stirred. He did not call the cases singly—a kind word of advice, and he dismissed them all. No man was fined or sentenced to the workhouse that morning. The song had done more good than punishment could have accomplished.
(3006)
SONG IN THE NIGHT
Years ago, when the Ocean Monarch was wrecked in the English Channel, a steamer was cruising along in the darkness, and the captain heard a song, a sweet song, coming over the waters, and bearing down in the direction of the voice, he found it was a Christian woman on a plank of the wrecked steamer singing: