CHAPTER V.

“Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money.”—Isa. lv. 1.

Inthe year 1547, Henry II. ascended the throne of France. With the intrigues of the court it is not our province to intermeddle; but from the fierce contests waged during that stormy period, our story cannot be dissevered. There were four principal factions, each pledged to the interests of a distinct chief, of whom the most influential were the celebrated constable, Anne de Montmorency, and his great rivals of the house of Guise. The constable was a personage of supreme importance, possessing enormous wealth, and raised to the pinnacle of power. As he became, in course of time, one of the chief patrons of that skill which Palissy was acquiring at the cost of so much toil and suffering, a slight sketch of this famous man, who stands out as one of the giants of the ancient monarchy, will not be misplaced here.

In early life he had gained a powerful influence over the mind of Francis I., which he long retained, and on the death of that monarch he stood high in favour with his successor, Henry II. Faithful tothe interests of the throne and of his country, valiant in arms, possessed of intrepid courage, and resolute in the maintenance of what he believed right, he was, nevertheless, full of terrible blemishes and errors. He was an austere man, hard and rugged, rough and ungracious in manner, stern in his resolves, and fearful in the severity of the punishments he inflicted.

One of the first acts of the new king was to issue an edict confirmatory of religious penalties. A blasphemer was to have his tongue pierced with a hot iron, but all heretics were to be burned alive. The spirit of this sanguinary enactment was completely in harmony with the fierce bigotry which formed one of the distinguishing traits of Montmorency’s character. So great was his zeal against the heretics that he received on one occasion the nickname of “Captain Bench-burner,” because he made bonfires of the pulpits and benches taken from the churches of the Calvinists. Such was the man who now undertook the suppression of a revolt which broke out among the inhabitants of Saintonge and the surrounding districts. The occasion of this disturbance was the oppressive character of the new salt tax, which heavily burdened the poor country-people, who were consequently the first to take up arms and drive out the officers of the gabelle. In a short time the excitement spread. Pillage, fire, and massacre abounded, and the insurrection extended to Bordeaux, which became thehead-quarters of the disaffected. Montmorency marched in person against the inhabitants of the disturbed districts, and wherever he went he erected gibbets and inflicted horrible punishments.

The inhabitants of Saintes had now something to divert their thoughts from the doings of Palissy. They trembled as they heard of the tremendous scenes enacted at Bordeaux, where the stern marshal, disdaining to accept the keys of the town, marched his troops into it as a triumphant enemy, and presently put to death one hundred citizens in its great square; at the same time compelling the magnates of the town to dig up with their nails the body of the royal governor, who had been slain in one of the recent tumults. Having inflicted this summary vengeance at Bordeaux, Montmorency advanced through Saintonge, resting, on his route, at Pons, a town not far from Saintes, where resided the king’s lieutenant for that department, who was also the Count of Marennes, the famous salt district. This nobleman, Sire Antoine de Pons, and his lady, Anne de Parthenay, were among the earliest and staunchest friends and patrons of Palissy. It was at their château he saw the cup of “marvellous beauty,” which had acted as a talisman to elicit his genius; and from them he had frequently received commissions for various works of art. The “Dame Pons” was, especially, a lover of gardens, and delighted in floriculture. Scarcely could she have found another so admirably suitedto give her assistance in her favourite pursuit as Palissy, whose congeniality of taste in this matter caused him in after days to say, “I have found in the world no greater pleasure than to have a beautiful garden.”

Palissy relating his failures to Lady Anne

It chanced at the time when Montmorency came to Pons, that Bernard was engaged at the château of the Sire Antoine, in designing some panels and decorations, as well as in laying out the pleasure grounds. He had suffered another disappointment in his darling object, even more overwhelming than all previous ones, and had been again driven to a temporary renunciation of its pursuit. The narrative of his toils and struggles had been drawn from him by the gentle-hearted lady, who, as she marked with discerning eye the exquisite skill and taste of Palissy, became interested to learn somewhat of his history. He told her, in his own strong and simple language, all that had befallen him from the day when her lord had shown him the Italian cup. Alas! his latest trial, like all the others had proved a failure, and (as he declared) “his sorrows and distresses had been so abundantly augmented,” that he lost all countenance.

“And yet,” said the lady Anne, as she listened to his tale, “you assure me, that on this last occasion you had been right in every one of your calculations, and that the enamel was so correctly mixed, and the furnace so well ordered, that one single daywas sufficient for the melting. How, then, did you fail?”

“From this unforeseen accident,” said Palissy; “the mortar of which I had erected the furnace, had been full of flints, which burst with the vehement heat, at the same time that the enamels began to liquefy; and the splinters, striking against the pottery, which was covered with the glutinous matter, became fixed there. Thus, all the vessels, which otherwise would have been beautiful, were bestrewn with little morsels of flint, so firmly attached to them that they could not possibly be removed. The distress and embarrassment I felt from this new and unforeseen disaster exceeded all I had before experienced. The more so that several of my creditors, whom I had held in hope to be paid out of the produce of these pieces, had hastened to be present at the drawing of my work, and now seeing themselves disappointed of their long delayed expectations, departed in blank dismay, finding their hopes frustrated.” “Were there none of your pieces that had escaped injury?” “None, madame; it is true, though they were all more or less blemished, they would hold water, and there were some who would have bought them of me at a mean price, but because that would have been a decrying and abasing of my honour, I broke in pieces the entire batch from the said furnace, and lay down in melancholy—not without cause, for I had no longer any means to feed my family. After a while, however, reflectingthat if a man should fall into a pit, it would be his duty to endeavour to get out again, I, Palissy, being in like case, resolved to exert myself in making paintings, and in various ways taking pains to recover a little money.” “A wise resolve,” replied the lady; “and one in which it will be in my power to assist you. But hark! there sounds a horn, which I know to be that of my lord, and it announces his approach, accompanied by Monseigneur, the duke de Montmorency. An idea strikes me; his highness has great taste for ornamental art; his patronage would secure the fortune of one who possesses your skill in designing. Bring hither to-morrow your paintings and sketches of animals, foliage, and groups, not forgetting the designs of your vases, and I will take occasion to present them to the notice of Monseigneur.”

The lady was as good as her word; and, as she had foreseen, Montmorency was struck with the marks of genius perceptible even in these early and imperfect productions of the great artist, and he immediately decided to afford Palissy an opportunity of exercising his talents in his service.

In this manner did the great constable first become acquainted with Palissy. A few years later he was intrusted with important charges in the pot decoration of the celebrated château d’Écouen, one of the most famous architectural works of France in that day.

The building of this château, distant about fourleagues from Paris, had been one of the principal amusements of the wealthy marshal, during his seasons of forced leisure, when the sunshine of royal favour had deserted him. The architect employed upon it was Jean Bullant, who afterwards enjoyed the patronage of Cathurine de Medici, and assisted in the building of the Tuilleries. Of the work contributed by Palissy towards the decoration of the château, nothing remains in the present day but the beautiful pavement in the chapel and galleries. Much time was employed by him in the painting and enamelling of the decorated tiles which compose this pavement. The designs were all his own, of subjects taken by him from the Scriptures, very highly finished, and so admirably arranged and contrived as to give to the whole a surprisingly rich effect of beautiful colouring, surpassing, it is said, that of the finest turkey carpeting.

In one part of the sacristy the passion of our Lord was represented upon pottery, in sixteen pictures, in a single frame, copied from the designs of Albert Durer, by the hand of Palissy. Of this piece, and of another painted by him on glass, representing the history of Psyche, after the designs of Raffaelle, there remain only representations upon paper.[58]Of all the windows of Écouen, Palissy is also said to have been the painter; nor must we omit to mention that in a grove of the garden therewas formerly a fountain, called “Fontaine Madame,” to which was attached a rustic grotto, of which Palissy always spoke with pride, as one of the chief triumphs of his handiwork. His skill and ingenuity were exerted in the adornment of the grotto; and the rock from whence the cascade fell was a grand specimen of his painted pottery. Figures of frogs and fishes were placed in and about the water, lizards were upon the rock, and serpents were coiled upon the grass. And, that devout thoughts might be awakened in the breasts of those who came to enjoy the sweets of this pleasant retreat, its pious artificer had contrived that on a rustic frieze, should be inscribed in a mosaic, formed with various coloured stones, the text we have chosen as the motto of this chapter.

“HO, EVERY ONE THAT THIRSTETH, COME YE TO THE WATERS.”

Probably the formation of the fountain, and the arrangements made for its supply, were suggested by Palissy, whose acute observation in the study of nature had, by that time, led him to the discovery of the true theory of springs. “I have had no other book than heaven and earth, which are open to all,” he was wont to say, and upon all subjects connected with the study of that marvellous volume, Palissy was assuredly far in advance of the men of his time. He delighted in grottoes and fountains of waters, and his inquiry into the sources of naturalfountains conducted him to the true solution of an enigma which baffled all the skill of Descartes.[60]

We are, however, antedating the course of this narrative. At the time of Palissy’s introduction to the constable, he was about forty years old, and his labour to discover the enamel ware had been spreadover a period of some eight years. It cost him eight years more during which he endured great toil and numerous mishaps, before he attained full perfection in the moulding and enamelling of ornamental pottery. But from this time he did not lack patronage, and business was always to be obtained sufficient for the supply of household necessities. We shall presently have occasion to return with him again to the detail of his trials and struggles, and to hear of privation and distress yet to be endured in the prosecution of the object of his ambition. But first we are about to see him in a new aspect, and it will be necessary to interrupt the story of his toil in the pursuit of art, while we dwell upon some other facts in his history, by which his mind was exercised, and his character, as a man and a Christian, formed and illustrated.

“The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”—Jobi. 21,

Somesix or seven years have passed away since we last saw Palissy; and it is now the month of February, 1557 . . .

“The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away”

The short day is just drawing to a close, and our old friend, who is sitting with a book open before him, has given over the effort to continue reading, and is pensively resting, with his hand supporting his head, which now begins to show a few silvery threads among the long dark brown hair that overshadows the brow. His lips are moving, and he utters the words he has just perused on the page of that holy book with which he has formed so close and reverent an acquaintance. “Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.” “Even so, Father; for so it seemed good in thy sight.” And he sighed deeply, and rising, went slowly toward a corner of the chamber, where was placed a baby’s cot. Bending down, he raised the covering that shrouded the infant form which rested there. It was that of a girl some few months old, who looked so like a marble statue, that, at first sight, you would have said,“It is the work of the sculptor.” But no; the eyes were slightly open, and the lashes drooped over the violet orbs, that even in death seemed beautiful.

The father stooped to kiss the fair delicate face, and then kneeled down beside the cot, to read more closely the innocent features by the fading twilight that still lingered.

He had remained several minutes thus absorbed in thought, and prayerfully abstracted in spirit, when suddenly a low and peculiar noise was heard close to the window. It roused him from his reverie, and he quickly lifted his eyes. Again the sound met his ear, and immediately he rose, and going to the door, looked abroad, and uttered a signal cry, responsive to the one he had heard. “It is Philebert Hamelin,” he exclaimed, and the next instant his friend stood beside him. Most heartily did Palissy receive his unexpected visitor, and bade him welcome to his lowly roof, where he might be in safety, seeing its owner was then under the patronage of Sire Antoine, who had commanded that the premises of the potter should be held inviolate from all intrusion.

After discharging the duties of hospitality, and seeing the wants of his guest supplied, Bernard seated himself beside Hamelin, and the two fell into long and earnest discourse.

They spoke, as was natural, first of the domestic circumstances of Palissy, and of the bereavementthat now weighed heavily upon him. It was the sixth of his children from whom he had been called to part in their tender age, and his spirit was cast down within him. Hamelin, who had a soul full of tender sensibilities, felt his eyes fill with tears as he listened to the sorrows of his friend, and lovingly sought to comfort him.

After a time he inquired for the two boys, Nicole and Mathurin, who were the sole survivors of so numerous a family. “They are grown tall and hearty, and will soon take their part in the workshop,” said Palissy. “The younger is a sharp wit. Certain monks of the Sorbonne were sent, last summer, into this town and many others of the diocese, to win over the people to allow their woods to be cut down for the king’s pleasure. They made strange gestures and grimaces, and all their discourses were nothing but outcry against the new Christians. It chanced that one of them, as he was preaching, taught how it behoved men to purchase heaven by their good works; but Mathurin, who stood there listening, exclaimed, ‘That’s blasphemy! for the Bible tells us that Christ purchased heaven by his sufferings and death, and bestows it on us freely by his mercy.’ He spoke so loud that many heard, and some disturbance ensued. Happily, Victor was near by, and he sheltered the lad, who might otherwise have paid dearly for his unadvised utterance.” “In good truth,” said Master Philebert, “it was a perilous deed, and these are fearfultimes. When a child of fifteen is not deemed too young for the stake, when young maidens have been stabbed for their singing, and fellow-tradesmen broken on the wheel for exercising liberty of conscience, then it is no marvel if our children, being taught the truths of God’s word, should exchange their youthfulness of manner for a manly fortitude, and should be ready sternly to sing their hymns in the free air of heaven.”

The conversation now turned upon Geneva, from whence Hamelin had recently come. He was one of those agents who, at the instigation of Calvin, travelled through the length and breadth of France, spreading the Reformed tenets, sometimes reading the Scriptures and pious books—sometimes preaching the word and exhorting, and above all, providing for the establishment of a gospel ministry; everywhere taking occasion to search out pastors to undertake the charge of those small and despised flocks that were scattered about in the hamlets and towns.

The marvellous energy of the great Reformer was unceasingly at work in various ways. He encouraged many French refugees to become booksellers or printers; he formed numerous schools for the training of his disciples; and Geneva, under his auspices, became the metropolis of the Reformed religion; the centre of a vast propagandist system, and one of the most famous schools of learning and theology. It is almost impossible to conceive howhe could support the immense labours of his latter years. He preached almost every day; gave three theological lessons in the week; assisted at all the consistorial deliberations, and all the assemblies of the clergy, and was the soul of their counsels. He carried on, besides, an immense correspondence throughout Europe, and published, every year, some work on theology or controversy. With all these labours and many others, he was, nevertheless, of a feeble constitution, and all his life long suffered under various maladies. Hamelin gave the following graphic description of his personal appearance at this period: “He resembles an old hermit, emaciated by long vigils and fasting; his cheeks are sunken, his forehead furrowed, his face colourless as that of a corpse, but his brilliant eyes glow with an unearthly fire. His figure is slightly bowed, the bones seem bursting through the skin, but his step is steady, and his tread firm.”

The two friends spoke next upon a subject of deep interest to both. By the advice, and at the instigation of Hamelin, Bernard had, for a considerable time, been in the habit of gathering together a small company of poor people on sabbath days, to read the Scriptures, and to make exhortations weekly. At first their number did not exceed nine or ten, and they were indigent and illiterate men, nevertheless they had the matter at heart, and from this small beginning was established a church which, in a few years, grew and flourished. Very simpleand touching is Palissy’s account of the manner in which he, “moved with an earnest desire for the advancement of the gospel,” daily searched the Scriptures with Victor; and how at length the two, taking counsel together, one Sunday morning assembled a few neighbours, to whom Bernard read “certain passages and texts which he had put down in writing, and offered for their consideration.” First, he showed them how each man, according to the gifts he had received, should distribute them to others, and that every tree which bore not fruit, must be cut down and cast into the fire. He also propounded to themthe Parable of the Talents, and a great number of such texts; and afterwards exhorted them, to the effect that it was the duty of all people to speak of the statutes and ordinances of God, and that his doctrine must not be despised on account of his own abject estate, seeing that God little esteems those things which men account great. For, while he gives wisdom, birth, or worldly greatness, to such as shall never see his face, he calls to the inheritance of glory poor despised creatures, who are looked upon as the offscouring and refuse of the world. These, he raises from the dunghill, setting them with princes, and making them his sons and daughters. “Oh, the wonder!” He then begged his auditors to follow his example, and do as he had been doing; which he so successfully urged, that they resolved that same hour, that six of their number should make exhortations weekly;that is to say, each of them once in six weeks, on the Sunday. And it was agreed that “since they undertook a business in which they had never been instructed, they should put down in writing what they had to say, and read before the assembly.” “That was,” said Palissy, “the beginning of the Reformed Church of Saintes.” Six poor and unlearned men were all who had the boldness, with resolute hearts, to form themselves into a worshipping assembly of Protestant Christians in that town, which had so recently beheld the burning of a heretic.

We seek in the chronicles of earthly glory for the names of our famous heroes, patriots, and statesmen. The only annals in which the name of our potter is recorded are those of the despised Huguenot church of Saintes. In a contemporary list of preachers we find mentionedBernard Palissy.

We have no other record of the manner in which his ministrations were carried on, than those few sentences just given; but we know that the doctrine of the Reformed Church of France was identical with that of Luther. The motto of that school was, “The word of God is sufficient.” “To know Christ and his word, this is the only living, universal theology; he who knows this knows all,” said the two men who first proclaimed the gospel in Paris. The doctrine of justification by faith overturned at one sweep the subtleties of the schoolmen, and the practices of Popery. “It is God alone,” said Lefèvre, within the walls of theSorbonne, “who by his grace, through faith, justifies unto everlasting life. There is a righteousness of works, there is a righteousness of grace; the one cometh from man, the other from God; one is earthly, and passeth away, the other is heavenly and eternal; one is the shadow and the sign, the other the light and the truth; one makes sin known to us that we may escape death, the other reveals grace that we may obtain life.” “We are saved by grace, through faith, and that not of ourselves; it is the gift of God.”Thiswas the great cardinal truth which Palissy taught, and which his hearers received in the love of it.

“He had respect unto the recompense of the reward.”—Hebrewsxi. 26.

Themorrow after Hamelin’s unexpected visit to his friend was Sunday, and he gladly embraced the opportunity, so soon as the shadows of night had spread their friendly veil, to slip through the streets, and repair to the place of meeting, where he exhorted and prayed with the little congregation, bidding them be of good cheer, and encouraging them with the hope, that before long, they should have a minister to take the charge of them. The next day he departed for Allevert, where, being kindly received by many of the people, he remained some time, calling them together by the sound of a bell, to listen to his exhortations, and also baptizing a child. Tidings of these proceedings were not long in reaching Saintes, and a great stir was immediately raised by divers officials of the town, who instigated the bishop at that time in residence, to authorize proceedings against Hamelin.

So slenderly provided was the poor Huguenot, that he had taken with him no other outfit than a simple staff in his hand; neither purse nor scriphad he, nor carried any weapon of defence. Alone, and without fear, he went his way, solely intent on the errand he was about. His friend, who evidently regarded him with the utmost love and reverence, after describing his defenceless condition, his poverty, and his trustful spirit, humorously contrasts with all this the extravagant and absurd measures adopted by his enemies, who “constrained the bishop to produce money for the maintenance of a pursuit of the said Philebert, with horses, gendarmes, cooks, and cutlers.” With all this fuss and ado, they speedily transferred themselves to the islands of Allevert, where they re-baptized the child—thus, as far as was in their power, repairing the mischief done by the heretic, whom, though they failed to catch him in that place, they shortly discovered in the mansion of one of the neighbouring gentry; and, laying forcible hands on him, they carried him off as a malefactor, to the criminals’ prison in Saintes, where they lodged him in safe custody.

Sore was the grief of Palissy when he learned that the friend whom he esteemed above all others, had thus been captured by wicked men; and well he knew that they had both power and will to destroy Hamelin. Indignation struggled in his breast with sorrow; and as he reflected on the blameless conversation, pure charity, and simple-heartedness of the man, he exclaimed—“I am full of wonder that men should have dared to sit in judgment of death over him, when they had heard and wellknew, that his life was holy.” Not content with passively bewailing his friend’s calamity, he tells that he mustered hardihood, notwithstanding that these were perilous days, “to go and remonstrate with six of the principal judges and magistrates of the town, that they had imprisoned a prophet or an angel of the Lord,” assuring them that for eleven years he had known this Philebert Hamelin to be of so holy a life that it seemed to him as if other men were devils compared with him.

Strong and impetuous language, prompted by the indignant earnestness of a loving and faithful heart, which set at nought all selfish considerations! It was, indeed, no light risk our noble-hearted Bernard was incurring. The edict of Châteaubriand had recently appeared, aggravating all former penalties, forbidding all assistance to those who were of the new religion, and all refuge of them; offering rewards to such as should denounce them, and, in short, rendering the laws against heresy so stringent, that the life of any one known to be a heretic depended wholly on the sufferance of his neighbours. In the face of such a danger, Palissy went to the very men who were officially engaged to punish his rashness, and boldly remonstrating with them, proclaimed the innocence and virtue of their prisoner. This courageous and honourable conduct was fruitless. The judges, indeed, showed sufficient humanity not to avail themselves of his boldness as a weapon against himself; they even heard himwith courtesy, and tried to excuse themselves in reference to Hamelin’s condemnation. To use Palissy’s words—“The better to come by a wash for their hands, that would acquit their hearts, they reasoned that he had been a priest in the Roman church; therefore they sent him to Bordeaux, with good and sure guard, by a provost-marshal.” Thus they set the seal to his doom; for Bordeaux was well-known to be the waiting-chamber to the scaffold.

An effort was made, while yet Hamelin remained imprisoned at Saintes, to procure his release, which deserves to be mentioned on more than one account. The tidings of his captivity had spread abroad, among the neighbouring districts, and reached the ears of a little church founded by him in a somewhat remote region. These poor people, with overflowing hearts, when the evil tidings reached them, lost no time in considering how they might best help to procure the release of one whom they loved and honoured as their spiritual father. The result of their deliberation was apparent, when, the day previous to his removal to Bordeaux, an advocate came secretly to the prison-house in which Hamelin lay, and offered to the jail-keeper the sum of 300 livres, provided he would, that night, put the captive outside the prison door. The bribe was tempting; and the frail official hesitated, desiring first, however, to take counsel of Master Philebert in the matter. His magnanimous reply was that he choserather to perish by the hands of the executioner than to expose another man to peril, for the purpose of securing his own safety. On hearing this, the advocate, taking back his money, returned to those who had sent him. “I ask you,” said Palissy, as he recounted this worthy conduct of his friend, “which is he among us who would do the like, being at the mercy of enemies, as he was?”

It was a sad meeting of the infant church when they assembled on the Sabbath after Hamelin’s death. They looked each other in the face, and sorrowfully proceeded to the sacred exercises of the hour. After the service was concluded, Palissy introduced to them a minister, named De La Place, who had been chosen by their deceased friend to undertake the office of pastor in Allevert. The events which had since befallen rendered it, however, highly dangerous and undesirable that he should repair thither for a time; and he had received notice, warning him to abstain from proceeding on his journey.

. . a sad meeting of the infant church

In compliance with this intimation he had stopped short at Saintes where he remained in safety with Bernard, who now made him known to the brethren, and they with one accord prayed him to stay among them and minister the word of God. Thus were they, most unexpectedly, supplied with a pastor.

Before the assembly broke up, Victor, calm in manner, though with intense feeling, narrated tothem some touching incidents he had learned of the last hours of their martyred friend. He had not been alone; a companion in tribulation shared his sufferings and death, whom Philebert had strengthened in the hour of trial by his own quiet confidence and joyful anticipation of the future that awaited them. On the morning fixed for their execution he awoke his comrade, who was sleeping in the same cell, and pointing with his hand to the splendid sunrise just visible on the eastern horizon, he exclaimed, “Let us rejoice; for, if the aspect of nature, and the return of daylight, be so beautiful on earth, what will it be to-morrow, when we shall behold the mansions of heaven?”

His composure and piety affected even the stern jailer, who was so much impressed with what he saw and heard that he had spoken of it to one who secretly sympathized with the martyrs, and related everything to Victor. When conveyed to the gibbet, Hamelin remained self-possessed, and a divine peace was visible on his countenance. He was asked once more, if he would renounce his errors, and return to the true faith, but, unmoved, and steadfast in hope, he sang a hymn, making no other reply to the importunities of those around him than this, “I die for the name of Jesus Christ.” His last words were, “Lord Jesus, have mercy on me.”

When Victor had concluded his narrative, Palissy said, “You have heard, brethren, the end of this child of God, to whom we are indebted in no smalldegree; for if there be among us any of that Christian fellowship in love which is the blessed product of communion with the members of the body of Christ, we must assuredly trace it to his influence. All that has been done among us is the result of the good example, counsel, and doctrine of this brother, beloved in the Lord. And think you,” he continued—his eye kindling, and his voice tremulous with emotion—“that they who condemned the just will be excused on the plea of ignorance? Assuredly the judges of this town knew well that his life was holy; nevertheless, they acted through fear, lest they should lose their offices: so we must understand it. And thus they delivered him up, and caused him to be hung like a thief. But, will not God avenge his elect? Will he not show that precious in his sight is the death of these, his witnesses? Truly, a rich harvest has always sprung up from the blood of the martyrs, and the ashes of the just, scattered to the four winds of heaven, have been as the seed of the kingdom.”

These words of the noble-hearted potter recall to our minds what Luther had spoken, some thirty years before this period, when tidings reached him of the persecution and death of some of his followers. “At length,” he exclaimed, “Christ is gathering some fruit from our labours, and is creating new martyrs. Their bonds are our bonds; their dungeons our dungeons; and their fires our fires. We are all with them, and the Lord himself is at ourhead. He afterwards celebrated these first victims of the Reformation in a noble hymn, whose strains were speedily heard echoing throughout Germany, and everywhere spreading enthusiasm for the cause—

“They ride the air—they will not down,The ashes of the just;Nor graves can hide, nor waters drown,That spirit-pregnant dust.Where’er the winds that seed have flungSoldiers are gendered;And Satan’s foiled, and Christ is sungBy voices from the dead.”[77]

The early years of the little Reformed church of Saintes were very troublesome ones. It was established, in the outset, with great difficulties and imminent perils, and those who ventured to enroll themselves among its number were blamed and vituperated with perverse and wicked calumnies. The ignorance and superstition of that age and country were called into active exercise against the adherents of the new faith, and the vilest slanders were fabricated against them, and accredited even by those who witnessed their blameless lives. Most frequently their meetings for religious worship were held during the hours of darkness, for fear of their enemies; and occasion was taken from this circumstance to insinuate that, if their doctrine were good,they would preach it openly. They were even accused of wickedness and unchaste conduct in their assemblies; nor were there wanting some “of the baser sort” who said that the heretics had dealings with the devil, whose tail they went to kiss by the light of a rosin candle. Notwithstanding all these things, however, the church continued to exist, and to grow; and after a time, it made surprising increase. The timid commencement, the rapid advance, and, finally, the successful establishment and prevalence of the Reformed tenets in Saintes, were all noted by Palissy, with loving fidelity. He scanned, with the eye of a Christian and a philosopher, the dealings of God’s providence; and watchfully observed the various ways in which his purposes of wisdom and mercy were brought to pass.

It is remarked, by a Roman Catholic historian of the day, that “the painters, clock-makers, modellers, jewellers, booksellers, printers, and others, who, although in humble trades, have still some exercise for thought, were the first to adopt these new ideas.” What a pleasing and instructive fact, proving, as it does, that not only for the rich and leisurely, the learned and studious, are reserved those best and choicest gifts of God—the seeing eye, the hearing ear, and the heart wise to discern the heavenly wisdom of the cross! Nowhere could we find an instance more strikingly in point than that afforded us by the life of Palissy. While helaboured with enthusiasm and devoted earnestness at the calling of his choice (and of his necessity), his most precious, his chosen pursuit was not his art, but the knowledge and service of God his Saviour. He obeyed the sacred mandate, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,” and girding himself to the conflict with error, his soul became possessed with a holy enthusiasm; and having assumed to himself the right of free inquiry, he did not scruple to make bold confession of his faith.

“In all labour there is profit.”—Prov. xiv. 23

Probably, the happiest time of Palissy’s life is that at which we are now arrived. He may be accounted to have reached the end of his great period of struggle as a potter. He was labouring prosperously in his vocation; he was yet in the vigour of his age, and he had, above all, the enjoyment of feeling that he had solved the problem and effected the object for which he had endured a long struggle with privation and contumely. We will not dwell on the remaining disappointments he had been doomed to suffer before he attained this point. They were numerous and painful in the extreme. We get a passing glimpse of them in the following incident. One day he encountered a friend whom he had not seen for many a long year. He had first met with him in the days of his youth at Tarbes, where they had worked together, and listened in company to the teachings of Hamelin. His companion had, in consequence, embraced the Reformed doctrine, and afterwards became one of the colporteurs employed in the circulation of religiousbooks. In the course of his wanderings he had occasionally visited Saintes, but it was long since he had been there. As on former occasions, he now eagerly sought out Palissy, to whom he related much of deep interest with reference to the progress of religious truth throughout the provinces of France, while, at the same time, he drew a distressing picture of the fearful sufferings of all classes; for it has been said, and probably with little exaggeration, that in France during the sixteenth century, there scarcely lived a poor rustic, the current of whose life was not distressed and troubled by the course of state affairs; and who had not been, or was not destined at some time of his life to be, heavily bruised by a hard-fisted government. Having finished his narrative, the worthy man asked of Bernard some particulars concerning his own history, and that which had transpired in the good town of Saintes during the last few years.

“For myself,” replied Palissy, “I may say matters are now, comparatively speaking, prosperous with me. Much have I suffered, however, since I last saw you. During the space of fifteen or sixteen years in all, I have blundered on at my business. When I had learned to guard against one danger, there came another on which I had not reckoned. I made several furnaces, which caused me great losses, before I understood how to heat them equally. At last I found means to make various vessels of different enamels, intermixed, in the manner ofjasper. That fed me several years; and, when at length, I had discovered how to make my rustic pieces,[82]I was in greater trouble and vexation than before, for having made a certain number of them, and put them to bake, my enamels turned out, some beautiful and well melted, and others quite the reverse; because they were composed of different materials, which were fusible in different degrees. Thus, the green of the lizards was burnt long before the colour of the serpents was melted; and the colour of the serpents, lobsters, tortoises, and crabs, was melted before the white had attained any beauty. All these defects caused me such labour and heaviness of spirit, that, before I could render my enamels fusible at the same degree of heat, I verily thought I should be at the door of mysepulchre.” “Nay, my friend, you look tolerably stout, at present, and carry your fifty years as well as most men.” “It may be so,” was the reply, “but you would have thought otherwise, had you seen me some time since, for, from incessant labour and anxiety, in the space of more than ten years, I had so fallen away in my person, that there was no longer any form in my legs or roundness in my arms; insomuch that my limbs were all one thickness, and as soon as I began to walk, the strings with which I fastened the bottom of my hose dropped about my heels, together with my stockings. I frequently used to walk in the meadows of Saintes, considering my vexation and affliction, and above all, that I could meet with no comfort or approval even in my own house. But, indeed, I was despised and scorned by all. Nevertheless, I always contrived to make some ware of divers colours, which afforded me some sort of a living. The hope which supported me, meantime, gave me such manly courage for my work, that oftentimes, to entertain persons who came to see me, I would endeavour to laugh, although within me I felt very sad.” . . . “Who would believe Master Bernard was ever very sad?” said a lively voice, and at the same moment a cavalier entered the workshop, and passing through it, peeped in at the door of the studio where Palissy was seated with his friend. “You are too prosperous a man to speak after that fashion; and your coffers must be filling apace, to judge by the value set onyour beautiful designs in pottery.” “The Seigneur de Burie speaks too favourably of my work,” replied Bernard, while his visitor, rapidly glancing round, noticed admiringly some charming things which were in progress of completion, and gave orders for several pieces of enamelled earthenware—specimens of that beautiful sculpture in clay, which was destined, before long, to adorn the mansions and palaces of the nobles of the land.

“M. the Count de la Rochefoucault is eager to visit your studio, Master Bernard,” said the seigneur, as he took his leave; “and his patronage will be valuable to you for more reasons than one. Not only will he give you commissions for your works, but his influence can protect you from the dangers you incur as one of the new religionists. It is true, indeed, that the support of Monseigneur de Montmorency is so powerful as to stand you in sufficient stead; and a man who is intrusted with an important share in his famous building-works at Écouen, will be sure to have a large circle of friends, or, at all events, admirers and employers. Nevertheless, I would say a word of advice in your ear. It is but the other day I met his reverence, the dean of this town, in a courtly circle, where the gentry were discussing the progress of heretical doings, and I heard, with concern, that you had made yourself obnoxious to that dignitary, as well as to the chapter of this place, by your unguarded language. Indeed, excuse me, if I say, it were well to be morecircumspect. Is there not a word in the Holy Book which bids us be ‘wise as serpents?’”

“I thank you heartily, monsieur, for the good will you are pleased to show towards me,” said Bernard; “but I do assure you these gentry have none occasion against me, except in that I have urged upon them many times certain passages of Scripture in which it is written that he is unhappy and accursed who drinks the milk and wears the wool of the sheep without providing for their pasture. Assuredly this ought to have incited them to love me, rather than to take umbrage at the words of truth and uprightness. In the mouth of an honest man the language of remonstrance is friendly, and gives none occasion for displeasure.” “By my faith, though,” said the seigneur, laughing heartily, “such reproof must have stung sharply. I trow, the cap fitted too closely. It is notorious that similar language has been spoken in the ears of Majesty itself. The Advocate-General, Séguier, in the name of the parliament of Paris, recently made the king’s ears tingle with his bold utterance. ‘If heresy is to be suppressed,’ said he, ‘let pastors be compelled to labour among their flocks. Commence, sire, by giving an edict to the nation, which will not cover your kingdom with scaffolds, nor be moistened with the blood or tears of your faithful subjects. Distant from your presence—bent beneath the toil of labour in the fields, or absorbed in the exercise of arts and trades, they cannot pleadfor themselves. It is in their name that parliament addresses to you its humble remonstrance, and its ardent supplication.’”

“Methinks such counsel was wise and timely. How did the king reply?” “The king? oh, he listened, smiled assent, and went on as before. However, the speech was to good purpose, for the opposition of parliament prevented a most oppressive enactment, against which the appeal was made.”

As the young nobleman turned to leave the apartment, his eye was caught by a carved group, which stood somewhat apart. “Ah! what have we there? How lovely that infant form; it reminds me of my own sweet little Amélie;” and he approached it more nearly. It was a young girl who had caught up a litter of puppies, and was taking them up in the lap of her pinafore to exhibit, their little heads peeping out helplessly over the sides of the cloth, while the mother, fondly and anxiously following its young, had seized the skirt of the child’s dress while she was turning with a smile to quiet its solicitude. “So simple and so natural!” said the young man, who was himself a father. “One sees, at a glance, it is modelled from the life.”

Palissy sighed. “It is from a sketch of my eldest little daughter,” he said, “as she came one day into my garden-house, carrying her new pets, to show me. Alas! it was almost the last time her frolicsome glee delighted my heart, for she fell sick soon after.” “I almost envy you, good Master Bernard,the power thus to perpetuate your reminiscences of past joys. I had rather be a successful artist than a victorious warrior.” And with these words the Seigneur de Burie at length departed.

The two friends, being left to themselves, continued their discourse; and Palissy related at considerable length, the history of his beloved church, now a flourishing community. “The little one has become a thousand,” said he. “Within comparatively a short period we have made rapid strides. When our first minister, De la Place, was with us, it was a pitiable state of affairs, for we had the goodwill, but the power to support the pastors we had not. So that, during the time we had him, he was maintained partly at the expense of the gentry, who frequently invited him. When he removed to Allevert, he was succeeded by M. de la Boissière, whom we have at the present time. For a long time there were very few rich people who joined our congregation, and hence we were often without the means of his support; frequently, therefore, did he content himself with a diet of fruit and vegetables, and water as his drink. Yet, were we not forsaken, nor without manifest tokens of God’s favour and protection. Insomuch that, notwithstanding the enmity of those who sought to destroy the cause, there was no evil suffered to overcome us; but God bridled them, and preserved his church. He fulfilled in our town an admirable work, for there were sent to Toulouse two of the principal opponents,who would not have suffered our assemblies to be public, and it pleased God to detain them at that place for two years or thereabout, in order that they might not hurt his church during the time that he would have it manifested publicly.” “You are then, now so prosperous, as to venture openly to avow your principles?” “Yes; the absence of these two opponents encouraged us, so that we had the hardihood to take the Market Hall in which to hold our meetings; and now that they have returned, though, indeed, their will is to molest and persecute us, as before, yet are matters so much changed that their evil designs are frustrated, and they dare not venture openly to malign a work which has so well prospered that it is changing the whole aspect of the town.”

“The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein.”—Psalmcxi. 2.

Palissyhad not exaggerated when he said that the influence of the Reformed church in Saintes was changing the whole aspect of the town. Though but of short duration, its period of prosperity was bright and happy, and he was prominent among its firm and peaceable supporters. The picture he has drawn of it is a lovely one. “You would have seen in those days,” he says, “fellow-tradesmen, on a Sunday, rambling through the fields, groves, and other places, singing in company psalms, canticles, and spiritual songs—reading and instructing one another. You would also have seen the daughters and maidens, seated by troops, in the gardens and other places, who, in like way, delighted themselves in singing of all holy things. The teachers had so well instructed the young, and affairs had so much prospered, that people had changed their old manners, even to their very countenances.”

Nor was this merely a question of psalm-singing and prayers, he assures us. The Reformation was practical and earnest. Quarrels, dissensions, andhatreds were reconciled; unseemly conduct and debauchery suppressed; and this had been carried so far that “even the magistrates had assumed the control of many evil things which depended on their authority.” Innkeepers were forbidden to have gaming in their houses, and to entertain the householders, whose duty it was to abide with their own families, not eating and drinking their substance elsewhere. Even the enemies of the church were constrained, to their very great regret, to speak well of the ministers, and especially of M. de la Boissière, who seems to have won general respect and esteem by his judicious and manly piety, as well as his pastoral instructions. Thus were the opponents of the gospel fairly silenced, and recourse was had to a system of counteraction, in the shape of a reformation on the part of the Roman Catholics. This went to such a point that Palissy says, “certain of the priests began to take part in the assemblies, and to study and take counsel about the church.” In fact, it was time they should be on the alert, for the monks and ecclesiastics were blamed in common talk; that is, by those who cared nothing for religion, but who were ready enough to throw a stone at these idle shepherds. “Why do you not exhort your people, and pray, as these ministers do?” they asked; “you are paid salaries for preaching.” These taunts reaching the ears of Monsieur, the theologian of the chapter, measures were taken accordingly, and the shrewdest andmost subtle monks engaged for the service of the cathedral church. “Thus it happened that, in these days, there was prayer in the town of Saintes every day, from one side or the other.” But the thing which worried the priests more than any other, and which seemed to them very strange, was, that several poor villagers refused to pay tithes, unless they were supplied with ministers. It was certainly a strange thing to see, as Palissy says, when certain farmers, who were no friends to the religion, finding these things so, actually went to the ministers, praying them to exhort the people of the districts they farmed, in order that they might get paid their tithes; the labourers having refused to supply them with corn and fruits on any other conditions. In short, the efforts of the little church had so well prospered, that they had constrained the wicked to become good—at all events, to seem so.

How delightful to think of Bernard now! at his ease, rejoicing in the peace and happiness around him, and in the religious aspect of his town; frequently journeying abroad, to Écouen and elsewhere, to and fro, as his business required, and coming home again, to wander, thoughtfully and tranquilly, among the rocks and fields in which he took such delight. He was now so well supplied with patronage that he might have been growing rich, had he not, with his own ardent zeal and restless energy, been ever expending time, and toil, and money, on new efforts to improve his art. Now,too, he had leisure to pursue those inquiries which, in his character of a naturalist, so deeply interested him. With surprising and marvellous sagacity he penetrated some of the problems which have puzzled the most skilful investigators, and there was always mingled with his love of nature a spirit of glowing and unaffected piety. The bright gladness of his pious soul was as a beaming light that shone upon his path and made it ever radiant.

“This dish is charming!” said the lady

How skilfully he turned to use all the modes of acquiring knowledge, and what good account he made of his own sharp wits, we see in a little incident he has recorded. It chanced one day, he received a visit from the Dame de la Pons, for whom he was executing a commission, in which the lady felt, naturally, a woman’s interest. She had ordered a complete set of dishes, to be adorned with his favourite “rustic figulines;” the work was progressing favourably; there remained only a few pieces to be completed; and she had come to see and to criticise. “This dish is charming,” said the lady; “the bottom covered with sea weeds and corals, while the fish, with open fins, seem darting across the water. Really, one can fancy the slight tremor of the tail, so like the helm of the living ship. The cray-fish, too, the spider of the waters, stretches his long claws as if to grip the rock, and shrink into its crevices.” “And see this one, mamma,” said her daughter, who had accompanied her, “this is for the fresh water fish. Look at the edges, fringedwith the dank mosses, and the sides covered with the broad leaves of the plants. It is the subaqueous world of waters, with all the leaves, stems, and flags of the marsh, and its aquatic animals, transferred to clay, as true in form, and as brilliant in colours, as if a housemaid had dipped one of her plates in the stream, and drawn it out, filled to the brim, with the plants, shells, and animals of the brook.” “It is admirable,” said her mother. Palissy’s eyes sparkled, for praise is sweet; and what son of Adam is there to whom it does not come doubly welcome from the lips of a woman?

“What a curious shell is this!” exclaimed Madame, taking up one, from which Palissy was modelling. “That comes from the shores of Oléron,” said the artist; “there are numbers more on yonder table,” and he pointed to one, covered with a multitude of similar ones. “I engaged a score of women and children to search for them on the rocks. And now, lady, I must tell you something curious about those shells. Only a day or two after they were brought to me, I chanced to call on M. Babaret, the advocate, who, you know, is a man famous for his love of letters and the arts. We fell into some discussion upon a point in natural history, and he showed me two shells exactly similar to these—urchin shells;[93]but which were quite massive; and he maintained that the said shells had been carved by the hand of the workman, and was quiteastonished when I maintained, against him, that they were natural. Since that time, I have collected a number of these shells converted into stones.” “You surprise me,” said his attentive hearer; “I was indeed greatly puzzled myself, some years since, when I chanced to find certain stones embedded in rock, made in the fashion of a ram’s horn, though not so long nor so crooked, but commonly arched, and about half a foot long. I could not imagine, nor have I ever known how they could have been formed.” “Your description, madame, much interests me; for, it so happens that I have also seen, nay, possess, a stone of the kind you describe, which was brought to me one day by Pierre Guoy, citizen and sheriff of the town of Saintes. He found, in his farm, one of these very stones, which was half-open, and had certain indentations, that fitted admirably, one into the other. Well knowing how curious I am about such things, he made me a present of it, which I was greatly rejoiced at; for I had seen, as I walked along the rocks in this neighbourhood, some similar stones, which had awakened my curiosity; and from that time I understand that these stones had formerly been the shells of a fish, which fish we see no more at the present day.” He then showed his visitors the picture of a rock, in the Ardennes, near the village of Sedan, in which were paintings of all the species of shells that it contained.

“The inhabitants of that place,” said he, “dailyhew the stone from that mountain to build; and in doing so, the said shells are found at the lowest, as well as at the highest part; that is, inclosed in the densest stones. I am certain that I saw one kind which was sixteen inches in diameter. From this I infer that the rock, which is full of many kinds of shells, has formerly been a marine bed, producing fishes.” “You speak as if stones grew, or were made, in process of time,” said the lady; “while we know that from the beginning, God made heaven and earth. He made also the stones; and from that time there have been none made, for all things have been finished from the commencement of the world.”[95]

“It is indeed, madame, written in the book of Genesis that God created all things in six days, and that he rested on the seventh. But yet, for all that, God did not make these things to leave them idle. Therefore, each performs its duty according to the commandment it received from him. The stars and planets are not idle. The sea wanders from one place to another, and labours to bring forth profitable things. The earth likewise is never idle; that which decays naturally within her, sheforms over again; if not in one shape she will reproduce it in another. It is certain that if, since the creation of the world, no stones had grown within the earth, it would be difficult to find any number of them, for they are constantly being dissolved and pulverized by the effects of frosts, and an infinite number of other accidents, which daily spoil, consume, and reduce stone to earth.” “You tell us startling things; very hard to be understood, Master Bernard,” said the Dame de la Pons, “yet full of deep interest to one who loves to note the wonderful works of creation, and would fain learn to see them with discernment as well as admiration.” Palissy paused from his work, (he had continued to sketch while he conversed,) and opening a cabinet with drawers which stood near him, he showed the ladies several specimens of fossils and minerals, which in his enthusiastic researches he had collected; for, with the acuteness of a philosophic observer, he had perceived the importance of a detailed study of fossil forms to the discovery of geological truths; and it may be truly said that the first who pursued this study (on which undoubtedly modern geology and all its grandest results are founded) was Palissy, the self-educated potter, who had taught himself in the school of nature. “I have been anxious,” said he, “to represent by pictures, the shells and fishes which I have found lapidified, to distinguish between them and the sorts now in common use; but because my timewould not permit me to put my design in execution, I have, for some years, sought, according to my power, for petrifactions, until at length I have found more fishes and shells in that form petrified upon the earth than there are modern kinds inhabiting the ocean.” He then showed them a small specimen which he begged them carefully to observe. “What can it be?” they inquired; “it resembles wood more nearly than anything else.” “You will think it very strange when I assure you that it is indeed wood, converted into stone. It came into my possession through the kindness of the Seigneur de la Mothe, the secretary to the king of Navarre, a man very curious and a lover ofvirtú. He was once at court in company with the late king of Navarre, when there was brought to that prince a piece of wood changed into stone. It was thought so great a curiosity that the king commanded one of his attendants to lock it up, among his other treasures.

“Taking occasion to speak with the gentleman who had received this charge, Monsieur de la Mothe begged that he would give him a little morsel of it, which he did; and some time after, passing through Saintes, be brought the treasure to me, and seeing how much pleasure and interest I took in examining it, he gave it me. I have since made inquiry, and find that it was brought from the forest of Fayan, which is a swampy place. It appears to me, indeed I am persuaded, that in the same manneras the shells are converted into stone, so is the wood also transmuted, and being petrified it preserves the form and appearance of wood, precisely like the shells. By these things you see how nature no sooner suffers destruction by one principle, than she at once resumes working with another; and this is what I have already said—to wit, that the earth and the other elements are never idle.” “Where can you have learned all this?” asked the young lady, with girlish wonder; “I would fain know to what school you have been, where you have learned all that you are telling us.” “In truth, Mademoiselle,” said Palissy smiling, “I have had no other teacher than the heavens and the earth which are given to all, to be known and read. Having read therein, I have reflected on terrestrial matters, because I have had no opportunity in studying astrology to contemplate the stars.”

“The wicked walk on every side, when the vilest men are exalted.”—Psalmxii. 8.

Thushappily occupied with the pursuits he loved, but taking no share in the turmoils of the time, Palissy prospered and cheerfully pursued his way. He could not, indeed, be an unconcerned observer of the events that were transpiring around. Having eyes, he doubtless saw the clouds that were gathering over his country, and from time to time, heard the thunders that threatened before long to burst in a terrific storm. For a season, however, the evil day was deferred, and the hymns of the rejoicing Huguenots continued to gladden his heart. We have already had sufficient evidence that he did not spare his remonstrances against those who, while they enjoyed the revenues of the church, neglected the performance of its duties. Nor did he stop there, and as his censures extended from the highest to the lowest matters, his shafts were often pointed against those who could ill endure the test of common sense, which he unceremoniously applied to them. His criticisms on the follies and vices of his neighbours had too much the characterof home-thrusts not to be felt. In his lively way he relates that, on one occasion, he remonstrated with a certain high dame upon the absurdities and improprieties of feminine attire; but “after I had made her this remonstrance,” he quietly adds, “the silly woman, instead of thanking me, called me Huguenot, seeing which—I left her.” At another time, he relates that, being on a visit to the neighbouring town of Rochelle, he earnestly remonstrated with a tradesman, of whom he inquired what he had put into his pepper which enabled him, though buying it in that place at thirty-five sols the pound, to make a great profit by selling it again, at the fair of Niord, at seventeen sols, in consequence of the adulteration of the article. In reply to the man’s excuse of poverty, Bernard replied, that, by such criminal acts he was heaping up to himself fearful punishments, “and surely,” said he, “you can better afford to be poor than be damned.” Strong, though faithful language, which was wholly ineffectual upon this “poor insensate, who declared he would not be poor, follow what might.” Plain speaking of this sort was evidently very characteristic of Palissy, who uttered his remonstrances without reckoning on the consequences. The same originality and force of intellect which procured him patrons in his art, undoubtedly, when applied in a different direction, served to multiply enemies around him, and their time was not long in coming.

Happily and swiftly flew the years of prosperity,but (as we have already seen) the clouds were gathering in the horizon, and soon the cruel hounds of war were let slip, and most frightful were the results. Two great parties had involved in their disputes the passions of the whole French nation. One, which included all the Huguenots, was headed by the high old French nobility; while the leaders of the others, embracing all the Roman Catholics, were the Guises. These opposing factions, with their strong deep passions, rapidly precipitated themselves into a fierce and bloody contest. One of the young sons of Catherine de Medici had died, after a few months of nominal rule, and a child no more than ten years old, called Charles IX. had succeeded to the throne. The queen mother, who, as regent for her son, assumed the government of affairs, was anxious, as far as possible, to offend neither of the contending parties, but to hold them so well balanced, as to preserve the power in her own hands. For a short time, there was a cessation of disputes, and efforts at conciliation. The policy of Catherine was the maintenance of peace, and she spoke fair to the Huguenots, feigning so well and so successfully that she was even accused by those of the Roman Catholic party, of being in heart one with the new sect. The Reformers took courage, and were full of fervour and hope; the enthusiasm spreading throughout the provinces and awakening everywhere the hope that the triumph of the Reformed faith was at hand. It was but a passinggleam, presently followed by a darker gloom, which finally deepened into the thick night of the Black Bartholomew. In vain did the queen and the chancellor, De l’Hôpital, labour to secure peace by colloquies and edicts of toleration. The Guises fiercely stirred the fires of contention, and employed themselves in active preparations for a struggle. At length, the first signal for the outbreak of the civil war was given.

There was in Champagne, a small fortified town, called Vassy, containing about three thousand inhabitants, a third of whom, not reckoning the surrounding villages, professed the Reformed religion. It happened, on the 28th of February, 1562, that the Duke of Guise, journeying on his way to Paris, accompanied by his cousin, the cardinal of Lorraine, with an escort of gentlemen, followed by some two hundred horsemen, visited the château de Joinville, which was situated in the neighbourhood, on an estate belonging to the Lorraines.

The mistress of the castle was a very old lady, the dowager Duchess of Guise, whose bigoted attachment to the faith of her ancestors made the very name of Huguenot an offence to her. Sorely indignant was she at the audacity of the inhabitants of Vassy, who had no right, she declared, as vassals of her granddaughter, Mary Stuart, to adopt a new religion without her permission. Often had she threatened vengeance upon them, and the time was now come to inflict it. And the aged woman urgedher son, the fierce Duke Francis, to make a striking example of these insolent peasants. As he listened to her angry words, he swore a deep oath, and bit his beard, which was his custom, when his wrath waxed strong.

“Heretic dogs! Huguenot rebels! Kill, kill!”

The next morning, resuming his march, he arrived at a village not far from the obnoxious town; and the morning breeze, as it came sweeping up the hills, brought to his ears the sound of church bells. “What means that noise?” he asked of one of his attendants. “It is the morning service of the Huguenots,” was the reply. It was, in fact, the sabbath day, and the Reformers, assembled to the number of some hundreds, were performing their worship in a barn, under the protection of a recent edict of toleration. Unsuspicious of danger, there was not a man among them armed, with the exception of some ten strangers, probably gentlemen, who wore swords.

Suddenly, a band of the duke’s soldiers approached the place, and began shouting—“Heretic dogs! Huguenot rebels! Kill, kill!” The first person whom they laid hands on was a poor hawker of wine. “In whom do you believe?” they cried. “I believe in Jesus Christ,” was the answer; and with one thrust of the pike he was laid low. Two more were killed at the door, and instantly the tumult raged. The duke, hastening up at the sound of arms, was struck by a stone, which drew blood from his cheek. Instantly the rage of his followersredoubled, and his own fury knew no bounds. A horrible butchery followed; men, women, and children were attacked indiscriminately, and sixty were slain in the barn or in the street, while more than two hundred were grievously wounded.

The pastor, Leonard Morel, at the first sound of alarm, kneeled down in the pulpit and implored the divine aid. He was fired at; and then endeavoured to escape, but, as he approached the door, he stumbled over a dead body, and received two sabre cuts on the right shoulder and on his head. Believing himself to be mortally wounded, he exclaimed, “Into thy hands I commend my spirit, O Lord; for thou hast redeemed me.” He was captured, and carried, being unable to walk, into the presence of the duke. “Minister, come this way,” he said, “what emboldens thee to seduce this people?” “I am no seducer,” said Morel, “but I have faithfully preached the gospel of Jesus Christ.” “Does the gospel teach sedition, sirrah?” said M. de Guise, with his usual blasphemous oath; “thou hast caused the death of all these people; and thou shalt thyself be hanged immediately. Here, Provôt, make ready a gallows for him on the spot!” But even among that fierce crew none seemed willing to obey the savage mandate, and no one came forward to enact the part of hangman. This delay saved the life of the captive, who was removed under good guard, but eventually escaped.

The following year, as the blood-thirsty duke layon his death-bed, mortally wounded by the hand of an assassin, he protested that he had neither premeditated nor commanded the massacre of Vassy. This may be true; but his consent at the moment of its perpetration is beyond question.

An extraordinary effect was produced throughout the whole kingdom, by the tidings of this cruel slaughter. Among the Reformed party it created a universal feeling of indignant horror and alarm. It was like the war-whoop of the Indians, which precedes the rush to battle. Each party flew to arms, after putting forth manifestoes, asserting the merits of their respective causes. The Prince of Condé hastened to Orleans, which he succeeded in occupying, and there the army of the Huguenots established their headquarters. In that town the Calvinist lords assembled, on the 11th of April, 1562, and after partaking the Lord’s supper together, bound themselves in an alliance, to maintain the Edicts, and to punish those who had broken them. They took a solemn oath to repress blasphemy, violence, and whatever was forbidden by the law of God, and to set up good and faithful ministers to instruct the people; and lastly, they promised, by their hope of heaven, to fulfil their duty in this cause.

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