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Tales and Sketches.

THE BAPTISM OF FIRE.

BY H. W. LONGFELLOW.

As day was drawing to a close, and the rays of the setting sun climbed slowly up the dungeon wall, the prisoner sat and read in a tome with silver clasps. He was a man in the vigour of his days, with a pale and noble countenance, that wore less the marks of worldly care than 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 a martyr.

The book before him was a volume of the early Christian Fathers. He was reading the Apologetic of the eloquent Tertullian, the oldest and ablest writer of the Latin Church. At times he paused, and raised his eyes to heaven as if in prayer, and then read on again in silence. length a passage seemed to touch his inmost soul. He read aloud:

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"Give us, then, what names you please; from the instruments of cruelty you torture us by, call us Sarmenticians and Semaxians, because you fasten us to trunks of trees, and stick us about with fagots to set us on fire; yet let me tell you, when we are thus begirt and dressed about with fire, we are then in our most illustrious apparel. These are our victorious 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 not those they vanquish with such conquering sufferings. And therefore we pass for men of despair, and violently bent upon our own destruction. However, what you are pleased to call madness and despair in us are the very actions which, under virtue's standard, lift up your sons of fame and glory, and emblazon them to future ages."

He arose and paced the dungeon to and fro, with folded arms and a firm step. His thoughts held communion with eternity.

"Father which art in heaven!" he exclaimed, "give me strength to die like those holy men of old, who scorned to purchase life at the expense of truth. That truth has made me free; and though condemned on earth, I know that I am absolved in heaven!"

He again seated himself at his table, and read in that tome with silver clasps.

This solitary prisoner was Anne Du Bourg; a man who feared not man; once a merciful judge in that august tribunal upon whose voice hung the life and death of those who were persecuted for conscience' sake, he was now himself an accused, a convicted heretic, condemned to the baptism of fire, because he would not unrighteously condemn others. He had dared to plead the cause of suffering humanity before that dread tribunal, and, in the presence of the king himself, to declare that it was an offence to the majesty of God to shed man's blood in his name. weary months,-from June to December,he had lain a prisoner in that dungeon, from which a death by fire was soon to set him free. Such was the clemency of

Henry the Second!

Six

As the prisoner read, his eyes were filled with tears. He still gazed upon the printed page, but it was a blank before his eyes. His thoughts were far away amid the scenes of his childhood, amid the green valleys of Riom and the Golden Mountains of Auvergne. Some simple word had called up the vision of the past. He was a child again. He was playing with the pebbles of the brook, he was shouting to the echo of the hills, he was praying at his mother's knee, with his little hands clasped in hers.

This dream of childhood was broken by the grating of bolts and bars, as the jailer opened his prison-door. A moment afterwards, his former colleague, De Harley; stood at his side.

"Thou here!" exclaimed the prisoner, surprised at the visit. "Thou in the dungeon of a heretic! On what errand hast thou come ?"

"On an errand of mercy," replied De Harley. "I come to tell thee " "That the hour of my death draws

near ?"

"That thou mayst still be saved."

"Yes; if I will bear false witness against my God, barter heaven for earth,-an eternity for a few brief days of worldly existence. Lost, thou shouldst say,-lost, not saved

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"No! saved!" cried De Harley, with warmth; "saved from a death of shame and an eternity of woe! Renounce this false doctrine, this abominable heresy,and return again to the bosom of the church which thou dost rend with strife and dissension."

"God judge between thee and me, which has embraced the truth."

"His hand already smites thee."

"It has fallen more heavily upon those who so unjustly persecute me. Where is the king ?-he who said that with his own eyes he would behold me perish at the stake! he to whom the undaunted Du Faur cried, like Elijah to Ahab, "It is thou who troublest Israel !'-Where is the king? Called, through a sudden and violent death, to the judgment-seat of Heaven !-Where is Minard, the persecutor of the just? Slain by the hand of an assassin! It was not without reason that I said to him, when standing before my accusers, 'Tremble! believe the word of one who is about to appear before God; thou likewise shalt stand there soon,-thou that sheddest the blood of the children of peace.' He has gone to his account before me."

"And that menace has hastened thine own condemnation. Minard was slain by the Huguenots, and it is whispered that thou wast privy to his death."

"This, at least, might have been spared a dying man!" replied the prisoner, much agitated by so unjust and so unexpected an accusation. "As I hope for mercy hereafter, I am innocent of the blood of this man, and of all knowledge of so foul a crime. But, tell me, hast thou come here only to embitter my last hours with such an accusation as this? If so, I pray thee, leave me. My moments are precious. I would be alone."

"I came to offer thee life, freedom, and happiness."

“Life, freedom,- happiness! At the price thou has set upon them, I scorn them all! Had the apostles and martyrs of the early Christian church listened to such paltry bribes as these, where were now the faith in which we trust? These holy men of old shall answer for me. Hear what Justin Martyr says, in his earnest appeal to Antonine the Pious, in behalf of the Christians who in his day were unjustly loaded with public odium and oppression."

He opened the volume before him and read :

"I could wish you would take this also into consideration, that what we say is really for your own good; for it is in our power at any time to escape your torments by denying the faith, when you question us about it; but we scorn to purchase life at the expense of a lie; for our souls are winged with a desire of a life of eternal duration and purity, of an immediate conversation with God, the Father and Maker of all things. We are in haste to be confessing and finishing our faith; being fully persuaded that we shall arrive at this blessed state, if we approve ourselves to God by our works, and by our obedience express our passion for that divine life which is never interrupted by any clashing evil."

The Catholic and the Huguenot reasoned long and earnestly together; but they reasoned in vain. Each was firm in his belief; and they parted to meet no more on earth.

On the following day, Du Bourg was summoned before his judges to receive his final sentence. He heard it unmoved, and with a prayer to God that he would pardon those who had condemned him according to their consciences. He then addressed his judges in an oration full of power and eloquence. It closed with these words:

"And now, ye judges, if, indeed, you hold the sword of God as ministers of his wrath, to take vengeance upon those who do evil, beware, I charge you, beware how you condemn us. Consider well what evil we have done; and, before all things, decide whether it be just that we should listen unto you rather than unto God. Are you so drunken with the wine-cup of the great sorceress, that you drink poison for nourishment? Are you not those who make the people sin, by turning them away from the service of God? And if you regard more the opinion of men than that of Heaven, in what esteem are you held by other nations, and principalities, and powers, for the martyrdoms you have caused in obedience to this blood-stained Phalaris ? God grant, thou cruel tyrant, that by thy miserable death thou mayst put an end to our groans!

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them not; their honour is redeemed by death, he that dies is the conqueror, and the conquered he that mourns.

"No! whatever snares are spread for us, whatever suffering we endure, you cannot separate us from the love of Christ. Strike, then,-slay,-grind us to powder! Those that die in the Lord shall live again; we shall all be raised together. Condemn me as you will,-I am a Christian; yes, I am a Christian, and am ready to die for the glory of our Lord,-for the truth of the Evangelists.

"Quench, then, your fires ! Let the wicked abandon his way, and return unto the Lord, and he will have compassion on him. Live,-be happy,-and meditate on God, ye judges! As for me, I go rejoicing to my death. What wait ye for? Lead me to the scaffold !"

They bound the prisoner's hands, and, leading him forth from the council-chamber, placed him upon thé cart that was to bear him to the Place de Grève. Before and behind marched a guard of five hundred soldiers; for Du Bourg was beloved by the people, and a popular tumult was appre hended. The day was overcast and sad; and ever and anon the sound of the tolling bell mingled its dismal clang with the solemn notes of the funeral march. They soon reached the place of execution, which was already filled with a dense and silent crowd. In the centre stood the gallows, with a pile of fagots beneath it, and the hangman with a burning torch in his hand. But this funeral apparel inspired no terror in the heart of Du Bourg. A look of triumph beamed from his eye, and his countenance shone like that of an angel. With his own hands he divested himself of his outer garments, and, gazing round upon the breathless and sympathizing crowd, exclaimed,

"My friends, I come not hither as a thief or a murderer; but it is for the Gospel's sake!"

A cord was then fastened round his waist, and he was drawn up into the air. At the same moment the burning torch of the executioner was applied to the fagots beneath, and the thick volumes of smoke concealed the martyr from the horrorstricken crowd. One stifled groan arose from all that vast multitude, like the moan of the sea, and all was hushed again; save the crackling of the fagots, and at intervals the funeral knell, that smote the very soul.

The quivering flames darted upward and around; and an agonizing cry broke from the murky cloud,

"My God! my God! forsake me not, that I forsake not thee!"

The wind lifted the reddening smoke like a veil, and the form of the martyr was seen to fall into the fire beneath. In a moment it rose again, its garments all in flame; and again the faint, half-smothered cry of agony was heard,

"My God! my God! forsake me not, that I forsake not thee!"

Once more the quivering body descended into the flames; and once more it was lifted into the air, a blackened, burning cinder. Again and again this fiendish mockery of baptism was repeated; till the martyr, with a despairing, suffocating voice, exclaimed,"O God! I cannot die!"

The chief executioner came forward, and, either in mercy to the dying man or through fear of the populace, threw a noose over his neck, and strangled the almost lifeless victim. At the same moment the cord which held the body was loosened, and it fell into the fire to rise no more. And thus was consummated the martyrdom of the Baptism of Fire.

RELIGION AND BUSINESS.

A minister with whom we are acquainted, in delivering an address to his congregation, suggested by the death of the late Dr. Judson, took occasion to make the following remark:

"He was a great man, a christian hero; and has set before christians, of every rank and class, a bright example of self-consecration to their Master's service."

A wealthy merchant, who was present, in speaking of the discourse, expressed the opinion that the remark ought to have been modified; "for," said he, "in the case of Dr. Judson, the promotion of religion was his chief business; but my business is trade, which requires the exercise of different faculties, and different rules of life."

We have no doubt that the merchant expressed in these words a very common sentiment, but a sentiment which involves a very serious error, and one which, in relation to christians themselves, may be called the great error of the times.

Yes! the great practical error of the age, as far as the church is concerned, is here brought out into the light. The crying want of Christendom, at the present time,

is such a state of public sentiment among the churches as will lead christian men to look at trade, commerce, and all worldly business, from the christian point of view. Seen in this light, the revenue of the shop or the counting-room, will appear as of comparatively small importance in itself, but as of vast moment in relation to the moral ends which it may achieve. Some of the finest triumphs which christianity has ever realized, have been found in the examples of those men who have learned how to subordinate the activities of business to the great ends of religion. To the christian merchant this practical lesson is just as important as religion itself; for, in his case, there is no true religion without it. If the notion prevail in the mind of any one, that a man can be a genuine christian, and yet not carry religion into the sphere of his every-day life, nor recognize it as a presiding, principle in scenes of business, it will lead him into a fatal mistake; for such an impracticable religion as that is not of the kind which our Saviour taught; it can save no soul, it can do no good, and would be utterly unworthy of a revelation from heaven.

In the Old Testament we find a brief description of one moral hero, such as the present age requires. He was a king. His name was Jehoshaphat; and of him the sacred historian says, "he had riches and honours in abundance, and his heart was lifted up in the ways of the Lord." It is the most remarkable encomium pronounced on any character. As to wealth and dignity, he was the Louis Philippe of his day. "His heart was lifted up "-not with pride of place-not with a selfish ambition to aggrandize his family, but with a lofty desire to make his immense power subserve the cause of God and humanity.

The men of action and of enterprise who profess to be christians, and who find that business, as an object of pursuit, engrosses their thoughts, interferes with a healthy piety, destroys their zest for religious reading and conversation, diminishes their interest in the progress of Christ's kingdom on the earth, and fires the passion for accumulation, will see, on close enquiry, that they are not doing business with a right motive, or with any object in view that can be acceptable to God. The motive with which business is engaged in, makes a world of difference, in all respects, as to the effect of business on the man, on his influence in

the world, his relations to God, and his destination for eternity. Two men of business may live under the same roof, may be members of the same firm, and may have an equally respectable standing in the realm of trade, so that the world shall recognize no great difference between them; but the Searcher of hearts may see that, in the case of the one, business is used for a worthy end, while in the case of the other, business uses him, so as to make his life a servitude to itself. The one regards business as a trust by which to attain the end of his calling; the other regards it as the chief end for which he was made, and for which all his powers were created. The one regards business as a means of blessing the world; the other regards the world as having been made merely for business. The one is "diligent in business," so as to make the most of his stewardship and to please Christ; the other is diligent in business, so as to make the most of his fortune and to lavish all on himself. The one seeks to honour his Lord by his business; the other will imagine that when his business ceases to drive him, he will have time for God's service, and that he will surely begin when he shall have little else to do.

Now the effect of a business-life on these two men must be immensely different; for however much alike they may appear, however constantly they may mingle in the same circles, and be employed in the same avocations, he that aims to serve God by his business is a very different character from him who makes a god of business. The essential elements of character which find scope and play in the soul of each are different tn their nature, and must develop themselves in different results for ever. How needful is it, then, to have betimes a just estimation of the true end of life, and the moral value of business! How important is it to see these things in the light of true christianity! For we may make great mistakes by regarding things from a delusive point of observation. A traveller once, at night, mistook a lamp shining on a distant hill for a brilliant star. His faculty of sight was not impaired, but his point of view deceived him. But what a difference between the supposed and the real objecta flickering taper and a star of heaven! Such confusion is often made within the sphere of religion between things that differ, by looking at them only in the light of a

passing world-a deceptive glare which hides the real distinction between the small and the great, between the temporal and the eternal.

THE DROWNING CHILD.

A family, the father, mother, and their children, the youngest between two and three years old, had been making a visit, and were returning to the city of New York by one of the Williamsburg ferry boats, toward evening, on the 4th of July. They were evidently in humble life, and had had a rare treat in the pleasure of a holiday, dressed in their best, and flushed with the enjoyment of health.

They were sitting in the stern of the boat, and near the railing; the younger children playing near the parents, frolicsome as kittens. It was a picture pleasing to look on, and it made one's heart glad and grateful to see a group so joyful in each other, and evidently as blest among themselves as if they had been born to wealth.

It was a very pleasant day, and a pleasant hour of the day. A few minutes more would bring them home, and the children, tired with the day's play, would be asleep. Suddenly the youngest, frolicing on the floor, rolled under the railing, and in an instant was overboard. Many were looking on, but it was so sudden and unexpected that no one could arrest it. A shout was raised for the boat to be stopped, but before that could be done the father leaped over into the deep, and struck out manfully in search of his drowning child. The mother had shrieked with agony as her child had gone, and now that her husband was also overboard, her anguish was terrible to behold. A lady strove to console her; gathered the other children about her, and bade her trust in God and hope for the best. The father proved to be a noble swimmer, but the water was so agitated by the motion of the boat that he could see nothing of his child,

and for some minutes he beat about to no purpose. Small boats put out from the shore, and one of them picked him up when he was nearly exhausted, and he was brought to the steamer and lifted on board. Here was a fresh scene of distress, when the father and mother met again. He had returned from the watery grave himself; but their child, their pet lamb, was lost. As he was raised on deck, the mother cried,' "The child, the child, where is it?" He looked at her, and with a thoughtfulness and beauty not to be expected in such a moment, answered gently, "Mary, God has it."

The boat still lingered, and the passengers were straining their eyes into the distance, hoping that one of the boats might yet rescue the child. It had now been half an hour in the water. Presently a shout went up, and the word was passed along that the child was found. It was picked up by one of the many in search, and a solitary oarsman rowed on with his precious charge. As he came alongside, the hardy' old tar, with a tenderness of feeling that did him honour, covered the face of the child. He could not bear to shock the pa rents with the sudden sight of their dead child! Yes, it was dead. It was taken on board, and the gentle lady who had sought to comfort the mother in her anguish, took the little one and opened its dress and laid her hand on its heart, but it was still! All the means that could be applied were of no avail to restore the spirit that had fled.

What a change was here! The boat reached its wharf, and the family, a mourning, wretched family, went off with their dead child to their dreary home. The papers, the next morning, mentioned, under the head of accidents, that a child was drowned from one of the ferry boats yesterday; but how little of the sorrow of that disaster is told in such a line! How much sorrow there is in this world, that we know nothing of!

Correspondence.

THE SABBATH QUESTION. To the Editors of "The Church."

Dear Sirs,

Your correspondent who furnished an article in your last in answer to a letter

from "An Enquirer after truth," has confined himself within such narrow limits as to be unable to meet fully the arguments he opposes. I have, therefore, ventured to send you a few lines, that I may help to supply what has been left undone. I, for

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