"If this be a grievous sin for a tender and delicate girl, what must be said of men who lead women to destruction? I would say that no pit is deep enough for them. I do not wish to excite any undue rage towards the vile wretch and his paramour whose work this is; for God will avenge the innocent on their enemies. But to you Elders of Israel, I say, beware how you treat the fair daughters of Zion! Man should protect and preserve innocent, pure womanhood. No woman can sin as deeply as a man, for she does not bear the same responsibility. If men expect to stand at the head of their families, let them see to it that they are without sin of speech or action. That which is a sin in a woman, becomes a crime in a man. Teach your sons to protect their virtue as they would their lives, and then there need be no fear of their assailing any woman. God loves these weak ones as well as we do, and He will overrule all things for the best to such as are sinned against and are thereby brought down into sin. Only let the parents so conduct themselves that their children will receive the benefit of their lives of purity and holiness, and all their tears of grief will be turned into joy in the hereafter." Diantha felt the whole weight of this terrible lesson pressing upon her own sad heart, and it nearly crushed her with a double burden of grief. She wondered how she could ever for one moment have looked lightly upon her past actions and words, wherein she had said and thought it no wrong to turn away from the Gospel and marry out of the Church. She asked herself bitterly whether a part of Ellen's guilt did not lie at her own door, for had she not given some measure of idle encouragement to this same soldier, and had she not said many foolish things and thought many vain, silly thoughts? She felt how inadequate were the theories of the world regarding love and its proper place in our lives, and she saw how foolish ideals and romantic poems and plays had rendered her conception of love fevered and unreal. She saw, while sitting near the dead body of her friend with its pitiful lesson, that love--that is, the romantic, unreasoning passion which is so often called love--is nothing but a base counterfeit. She felt that if love ruled the world, it must be the love of God and that love which is founded on respect and built in unselfishness. She could see that abase, vile passion which has for its only object the gratification of bodily desire, was a thing to fear and shun. Diantha had filled the cold, lifeless hands of her dear friend with the sego-lilies, wreathing them about the neck, thus to hide the story told by the bandaged throat; but she saw how useless in eternity would be the least attempt to hide away the sins and shame of mankind.