Within two days after our baptism, and in order that we might cut ourselves entirely loose from our former mode of life and thought, we determined that all books which were now considered _libri heretici_, such as the Heidelberg Catechism, Luther's Catechism, the Psalter, and Arndt's "_Paradies Gärtlein_," should be utterly consumed by fire. In short, all devotional literature of the old faith not in accord with our new departure, we gathered from the various families that had been converted, and not a few from mine own little library, and upon the appointed day Brother Weiser and the converts and myself assembled at the little cabin of Brother Fiedler, and there solemnly condemned the pernicious volumes to be burned. The "_Paradies Gärtlein_," however, had a peculiar sanctity attached to it by the German settlers; for it was firmly believed that it was protected by Divine interposition from both fire and flood. I had heard, even in my boyhood days, many a story of the miraculous preservation of this book. Some present objected to its being included, for surely the Lord would save it. Others, as ardent in their new faith as they had been in the old, no more honored the book as sacred, but were now firmly convinced that as its immunity hitherto had been from the Evil One, the greater the reason it must be destroyed with the others. The brush heap was accordingly prepared in front of Brother Fiedler's cabin. Each of the participants gathered up an armful of the doomed volumes, and at the word filed out of the little doorway headed by myself, followed by the schoolmaster. Arriving at the brush heap it was soon set afire, and the various books were solemnly consigned to the flames by Brother Weiser and the schoolmaster and others, with the solemn invocation "Thus perish all priestcraft!" Afterward the ashes were scattered to the four winds, and we departed feeling that we had thus cut ourselves off from the faith of our forefathers and had this day taken a step pregnant with glorious promise for the future.