But against the oncoming horde these efforts were unavailing.

Where hundreds were destroyed hundreds of thousands appeared.
Despair seized the Saints, the bitter despair of a cheated, famished people--deluded even by their God.

In their shorn fields they wept and cursed, knowing at last they could not stay the pest.
Then into the fields came Joel Rae, rebuking the frenzied men and women.
The light of a high faith was upon him as he called out to them: "Have I not preached to you all winter the way to salvation in times like this?
Does faith mean one thing in my mouth and another thing here?
Why waste yourselves with those foolish tricks of fire and water?
They only make you forget Jehovah--you fools--you poor, blind fools--to palter so!" He raised his voice, and the wondering group about him grew large.
"Down, down on your knees and pray--pray--pray! I tell you the Lord shall _not_ suffer you to perish!" Then, as but one or two obeyed him-- "So your hearts have been hardened?
Then my own prayer shall save you!" Down he knelt in the midst of the group, while they instinctively drew back from him on all sides.

But as his voice rose, a voice that had never failed to move them, they, too, began to kneel, at first those near him, then others back of them, until a hundred knelt about him.
He had not observed them, but with eyes closed he prayed on, pouring out his heart in penitent supplication.
"These people are but little children, after all, seeing not, groping blindly, attempting weakly, blundering always, yet never faltering in love for Thee.

Now I, Thy servant, humble and lowly, from whom Thou hast already taken in hardest ways all that his heart held dear, who will to-day give his body to be crucified, if need be, for this people--I implore Thee to save these blundering children now, in this very moment.
I ask nothing for myself but that--" As his words rang out, there had been quick, low, startled murmurs from the kneeling group about him; and now loud shouts interrupted his prayer.