Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1840-06-15
THE BAPTISM OF FIRE.

The more you NOW us down the thicker we
rise; the Christian blood you spill is like the seed
you SOW, it springs from the earth again and again
and fructifes The more er'uiiian.
AS the day was drawing TO close, and the rays
of the setting sun climbed slowly UP the dungeon
WALL The prisoner sat and read in tome with sill
yer clasps. lie a man in the vigor of his days
with pae and noble coun,enance, that wore ess
the marks of worldly care lhan of high and holy
thought. His TEMPLES were already bald but a
thick and curling beard bespoke the strength of
manhood, and his eye, dark, full, and eloquent,
beamed with all the enthusiasm of martyr.
The book before him was n volume of the ear
ly Christian Fathers He was reading the Apol-
ogetc of the eloquent Tcrluan, the Oldest and
abest write: of the Latin church At times he
paused and raised his eyes TO heaven as if in pray
er, and then read on again in silence. Al length
q passage seemed to touch his inmost soul. He
read aloud:
"Give US then what names you please, form the
instruments of cruelty you torture us by, call us
Sarlnenticians and Semaxians, because you fasten
us TO the trunks of trees, and stick us about with
laggo;s TO set us fire yet lei me tell you, when
we are thus begirt about with fire we are then in
our most illustrious apparel. These are our vic
torious palms and robes of glory: and mounted
on our funeral pile, we look upon ourselves IN
our triumphal chariot. No wonder then, such
passive heroes please those they vanqu'sh with
pass for men of despair and violently bent on our
own destruction. However, that which you are
pleased 10 call madness and despair III us, are the
very actions which, under virtues standard, lift up
your sons of iame aud glory, and enblazon them
10 future ages.
lie arose and paced the dungeon TO and fro,wiih
folded arms and a firm step. His thoughts held
communion with eternity
"Falhcr which art in heaven" he exclaimed,
"give me strength to die like those holy men OF
old. who scorned to purchase life nj the expense
of uuth. That truth has made me free; and tho
condemned on earth, ] know l am absolved in
heayen"
lie again seated himself at his table, and read
in that Tome with silver clasps.
This solitary prisoner was NJ. A. Du Bourg,
man who feared not man once a merciul Judge
in that august tribunal, upon whose voice hung
the life and death OF those who were persecu'eu
for conscience sake, he was now himself an accu'
sed- a convicted hereto, condemned TO the pap
tism of fire, because he would not anonymously
condemn others. He hnd dared to plead me cause
of suffering humanity before that dread tribunal,
aud in the presence oil the king himself 10 declare
Tim, il wns an offence TO the majesty OF Eod 10
sbcd ,nnn 3 blood in his name. DIX weary months
G.on, lime TO December--he had lain prisoner
IN Tim, dungeon, from which a death by fire was
soon 70 set hin. free. Such was the clemency OF
Henry The Second! ~.
tears lie still gazed upon the printed page, but
il was blank before his eyes. His thoughts were
far away amid the scenes Of his childhood, amid
the green valleys of Rom and the golden noun
tains of Auvergne. Some simple word had called
up the vision Of tbs past tie was Child again.