The captives began now to weep and hang their harps on the willows. No priest stood up to minister in holy things--the waters of life were shut out, and the last dying blaze went out on the altar. The triumph of Satan was now complete, and long did he hold his conquest in undisturbed and sullen peace. Those who have known what it is to sigh in vain for the ordinances of God's house, and pray and wait in vain to behold the face of him who publisheth salvation, can sympathize with the weeping prisoners, during the long "_dark age_" that followed. They bowed in submission to the calamity they could not avoid, but strove by every consistent and available means, to bring the long misery to an end. Like Michael and his angels fighting with the dragon and _his_ angels, this conflict between the powers of light and darkness was long and painful, but finally triumphant. The prisoners, at first, humbly petitioned the officers to let them have the benefit of preaching as they had done in times past. At first the justice of their plea was acknowledged, but the difficulty was, that no preacher could be obtained. The officers said, that they had tried every where within proper distance of the prison, but could not get a single preacher to visit that place, and do the duty of Chaplain. This it was thought would set the business at rest, but it did not. The government of the state had made provision for preaching, and the officers were respectfully informed, that the prisoners could not be deprived of it, while half a dozen preachers were within a few miles, and three within a few rods; and their petition was always on the table when the authority could be approached. The strong plea of right, and law, and scripture was used, and the important fact kept in view, that if they had the means of grace at all, they must be _brought_ to them, as they could not go where they were. All this was granted, but the same plea was eternally thrown over them all--"_We can't get any body._" If they actually applied to the ministers, and could not prevail on them to attend, then the blame must fall on their heads. But did they? Rather did they not destroy the chapel to prevent their coming? And were they always admitted when they did come? Answer, you that can. At length, one of the principal officers, and a very sanguine professor and church member, took a different stand and said in so many words--"PREACHING WILL DO NO GOOD HERE." Confounded to hear such language from such a source, and astonished to see the mask so fully thrown off, the prisoner who heard the expression, argued the officer out of his position, and sent him away penitently exclaiming--"O yes, it will do good, it will do good."