Many years ago a fierce war raged in India between the English and Tippoo Sahib. On one occasion several English officers were taken prisoners, among them one named Baird. He had been severely wounded, and was suffering from pain and loss of blood.
One day a native officer brought in heavy fetters to put upon each of the prisoners. Baird, the wounded one, was not excepted.
A gray-haired officer said to the native official: "You do not think of putting chains upon that wounded man?”
"There are just as many pairs of shackles as there are captives," was the answer. "Every pair must be worn.”
"Then," said the kind-hearted officer, "put two pairs on me. I will bear his as well as my own." This was done.
Strange to say, Baird lived to regain his freedom. He lived to capture that very city; but his noble friend had died in the prison. Up to his death he wore two pairs of fetters—his own and Baird's.
But what if he had worn the fetters of all who were in the prison? What if, instead of being a captive himself, he had been free and great, and had willingly left a glorious palace to live in a loathsome dungeon, to wear prisoner's chains, to bear their stripes, to suffer and die in their stead, that they might go free? That very thing has been done.