pulpit of the East Meeting-House, when the Rev. Mr. Burroughs seemed to
worship God. What!--he? The holy man!--the learned!--the wise! How has
the Devil tempted him? His fellow-criminals, for the most part, are
obtuse, uncultivated creatures, some of them scarcely half-witted by
nature, and others greatly decayed in their intellects through age. They
were an easy prey for the destroyer. Not so with this George Burroughs,
as we judge by the inward light which glows through his dark countenance,
and, we might almost say, glorifies his figure, in spite of the soil and
haggardness of long imprisonment,--in spite of the heavy shadow that must
fall on him, while death is walking by his side. What bribe could Satan
offer, rich enough to tempt and overcome this mail? Alas! it may have
been in the very strength of his high and searching intellect, that the
Tempter found the weakness which betrayed him. He yearned for knowledge
he went groping onward into a world of mystery; at first, as the
witnesses have sworn, he summoned up the ghosts of his two dead wives,
and talked with them of matters beyond the grave; and, when their
responses failed to satisfy the intense and sinful craving of his spirit,
he called on Satan, and was heard. Yet--to look at him--who, that had
not known the proof, could believe him guilty? Who would not say, while
we see him offering comfort to the weak and aged partners of his horrible
crime,--while we hear his ejaculations of prayer, that seem to bubble up
out of the depths of his heart, and fly heavenward, unawares,--while we
behold a radiance brightening on his features as from the other world,
which is but a few steps off,--who would not say, that, over the dusty
track of the Main Street, a Christian saint is now going to a martyr's
death? May not the Arch-Fiend have been too subtle for the court and
jury, and betrayed them--laughing in his sleeve, the while--into the
awful error of pouring out sanctified blood as an acceptable sacrifice
upon God's altar? Ah! no; for listen to wise Cotton Mather, who, as he
sits there on his horse, speaks comfortably to the perplexed multitude,