One, a proud man once, was so broken down by the intolerable
hatred heaped upon him, that he seemed to hasten his steps, eager to
hide himself in the grave hastily dug at the foot of the gallows. As
they went slowly on, a mother looked behind, and beheld her peaceful
dwelling; she cast her eyes elsewhere, and groaned inwardly yet with
bitterest anguish, for there was her little son among the accusers.
I watched the face of an ordained pastor, who walked onward to the
same death; his lips moved in prayer; no narrow petition for himself
alone, but embracing all his fellow-sufferers and the frenzied
multitude; he looked to Heaven and trod lightly up the hill.
Behind their victims came the afflicted, a guilty and miserable
band; villains who had thus avenged themselves on their enemies, and
viler wretches, whose cowardice had destroyed their friends;
lunatics, whose ravings had chimed in with the madness of the land;
and children, who had played a game that the imps of darkness might
have envied them, since it disgraced an age, and dipped a people's
hands in blood.
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