“Now I see what we have done.  Listen, brethren, for God has not before so plainly said it to any man, and I know my time is short among you.  We have gone back to the ages of Hebrew barbarism for our God—­to the God of Battles worshipped by a heathen people—­a God who loved the reek of blood and the smell of burning flesh.  But you shall not—­”

He turned squarely and fiercely to the face of Brigham.

“—­you shall not confuse that bloody God of Battles with the true Christ, nor yet with the true God of Love that this Christ came to tell us of.  Once I believed in Him.  I was taught to by your priests.  War seemed a righteous thing, for we had been grievously put upon, and I believed the God of Israel should avenge our wrongs as He had avenged those of His older Zion.  And hear me now—­so long as I believed this, I was no coward; while you, sir—­”

A long forefinger was pointed straight at the amazed Brigham.

“—­while you, sir, were a craven, contemptible in your cowardice.  I would have fought in Echo Canon to the end, because I believed.  But you did not believe, and so you were afraid to fight.  And for your cowardice and your wretched lusts your name among all but your ignorant dupes shall become a hissing and a scorn.  For mark it well, unless you forsake that heathen God of Battles and preach the divine Christ of the New Testament, you shall come to hold only the ignorant, and them only by keeping them ignorant.”

The commotion among the people in front was now all but a panic.  On the platform the sires of Israel whispered one to another, while Brigham gazed as if fascinated, driven to admiration for the speaker’s power and audacity.  For the feverish, fleeting moment, Joel Rae was that veritable Lion of the Lord he had prayed to be, putting upon the people his spell of the old days.  Heads were again strained up and forward, and amazed horror was on most of the faces.  Far back, Prudence trembled, feeling that she must be away at once, until she felt the firm grasp of Follett’s hand.  The speaker went on, having turned again to the front.

“Instead of a church you shall become justly hated and despised as a people who foul their homes and dishonour beyond forgiveness the names of wife and mother.  Then your punishment shall come upon you as it has already come for this and for other sins.  Even now the Gentile is upon us; and mark this truth that God has but now given me to know:  we have never been persecuted as a church,—­but always as a political body hostile to the government of this nation.  Even so, you had no faith.  Believing as I believed, I would have fought that nation and died a thousand bloody deaths rather than submit.  But you had no faith, and you were so low that you let yourselves be ruled by a coward—­and I tell you God hates a coward.”

Now the old pleading music came into his voice,—­the music that had made him the Lute of the Holy Ghost in the Poet’s roster of titles.