But the prisoner heeded not his adjuration--he never lifted his eyes,
and the same quiet smile rested forever upon his countenance; and he
still gathered up the pearls and continued aiming them at the window.
Awake, Adonijah! awake, I say! Thy pearls are counted to thee. Thy
pulses are about to stand still forever--thy proud heart to stop
forever! A moment, and the headsman will be here--already do I see him
afar off, stealing with a noiseless movement along the skirts of the
affrighted people, like smouldering fire through the blackness of a
thunder-cloud. Awake, thou MAN of sorrow and acquainted with grief,
awake that I may pray with thee!
With me!
Yea, my brother--even with thee.
And wherefore shouldst thou pray with me? and wherefore should I pray?
Wherefore! Have I not heard thee, purified by that old peculiar faith,
charge even thy Creator, the Ancient of Days, the Lord God of Heaven and
Earth, _Jehovah!_ with diverting thy pearls from their appointed path!
True, and therefore why should I pray? Of what avail these prayers with
the _unchangeable_ God? Can aught that we do, or fail to do, disturb the
everlasting tranquillity of our Creator--change his purpose--or in any
way move to pleasure or displeasure the Lord God of Heaven and Earth?
With him before whom all things are alike, with whom there is neither
great nor small--what he hath determined to do, that will he not do?
whether we importune him or not with prayer? Go to, my poor brother! go
to! will not the Judge of all the Earth do right? and if he will
not--how are we to help ourselves?
Unhappy man! Though he _were_ unchangeable; and though supplications
were of no avail, why should the children of men, the creatures of his
bounty withhold their _thanksgiving_?
That would I never withhold, for that I could offer up any where--at all
times and under all circumstances, without dishonoring him, our CREATOR
and our Father, or his image, and without contradicting our ancient
faith. But why wrestle in prayer with him, for that which, if it be
proper for us, we shall be sure to have, as we have the dew and the
sunshine, the seed-time and the harvest.--The very hairs of our head,
are they not numbered? Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and
not one of them is forgotten before God!
Yea my brother! But what saith the same scripture? Ye are of more value
than many sparrows.
True--true--I had forgotten a part of my lesson.
Believest thou, O my brother, _canst_ thou believe then, that in His
eyes, all the cherubim and seraphim are equal and alike? that He is, of
a truth, no respecter of persons among the Hierarchy of heaven?
But wherefore pray to Him that knoweth all our wants, before they are
uttered or felt? to Him that feedeth the young raven--laying his hand
reverentially upon the Great Book before him, and lifting his forehead
to the sky, as if he could see through it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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