king sent forth a soldier of his guard and commanded to
bring the Baptist's head."

Is it not marvellous that a man who did not refrain from doing deeds of
incest and murder, should be so scrupulous about violating an oath that
ought never to have been sworn? You have thought that you were bound
to go through with your engagement, because you had pledged yourself,
although you know that it would condemn you to lifelong misery and
disobedience to the law of Christ. But stay for a moment, and tell me!
What was your state of mind when you pledged your word? Were you not
under the influence of passion? Did you not form your plan in the
twilight of misinformation, or beneath the spell of some malign and
unholy influence, that exerted a mesmeric power over you? Looking back
on it, can you not see that you ought never to have bound yourself, and
do you not feel that if you had your time again you would not bind
yourself? Then be sure that you are not bound by that "dead hand."
You must act in the clearer, better light, which God has communicated.
Even though you called on the sacred name of God, God cannot sanction
that which you now count mistaken, and wrong. You had no right to
pledge half the kingdom of your nature. It is not yours to give, it is
God's. And if you have pledged it, through mistake, prejudice, or
passion, dare to believe that you are absolved from your vow, through
repentance and faith, and that the breach is better than the observance.

"And he went and beheaded John in prison." Had the Baptist heard aught
of the unseemly revelry? Had any strain of music been waited down to
him? Perhaps so. Those old castles are full of strange echoes. His
cell was perfectly dark. He might be lying bound on the bare ground,
or some poor bed of straw. Was his mind glancing back on those
never-to-be-forgotten days, when the heaven was opened above him, and
he saw the descending Dove? Was he wondering why he was allowed to lie
there month after month, silenced and suffering? Ah, he did not know
how near he was to liberty!

There was a tread along the corridor. It stopped outside his cell.
The light gleamed under the door; the heavy wards of the lock were
turned: in a moment more he saw the gleam of the naked sword, and
guessed the soldier's errand. There was no time to spare; the royal
message was urgent. Perhaps one last message was sent to his
disciples; then he bowed his head before the stroke; the bo