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tre of such abominations and such debaucheries. And when I remembered that I was between the Cevennes mountains and Dauphiné, places drenched by that same Papacy with the blood of martyrs, I could fancy that I saw a gigantic and horrible phantom issue from those ancient walls, and ascend into the air, bearing on its forehead the double mark of blood and lewdness, which signalizes the Papacy according to St. John, the Prophet of the New Testament.

I cast a last glance on this ancient seat of the Popes, and then turned my steps towards the Cevennes, that theatre of such glorious faith, and of such cruel conflicts, and where the unhappy Christians were so long hunted and slaughtered as beasts of prey.

We left the steam-boat at Beaucaire, and arrived at Nismes by the iron railroad.*

This was my first visit to the south of France, although my family came from thence. Some of my forefathers were from Languedoc, and some from Saintonge. It was at the latter place that the courageous D'Aubignè was born, who, when all (and Sully among the foremost) entreated Henri IV. to give up the Gospel and embrace Popery, addressed these memorable words to the King, (1595,) "Sire, it would be better to be King of a mere corner of France and serve God, than to reign over the whole country, and have the feet of the Pope over your head." After the first attempt upon the life of the King, when the assassin had merely wounded the Monarch's lip, he again spoke to his master in these words, "Sire, you have denied God only with your lips, and He has struck you on the lips; but if ever you should deny Him in your heart, He will strike you to the heart." Henri IV. was afterwards killed by being stabbed to the heart; and soon after D'Aubignè was obliged to leave France, and took refuge at Geneva, where he left the humblest and poorest part of his family, those

* On the 29th of August, 1843.

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who had remained faithful to the truths of the Gospel. I cannot describe to you my feelings, when I reflected that I was in the country from whence, more than two centuries ago, my ancestors had been forced to flee from their confession of the Gospel of Christ; and that I was there at the present moment to further the spread of that Gospel. "O," I exclaimed, may God vouchsafe to rekindle here the light which has been extinguished! May it come to them from Switzerland, from Holland, from England, from Germany, from all places where our fathers sought for shelter in their hour of trial! And, O Lord, do thou make use of me, the feeblest of all their descendants, to set up, in these dark places of the earth, the beacon of thy truth!

It had been settled that I was to hold an important conference with several of the pious Pastors of that country. And after a drive of four hours, by the most dreadful roads, in a little carriage, the brother who accompanied me, and myself, arrived at the village of Beauvoisin; and in this very village, which had been more than once laid waste by persecution, we met to consider what measures to adopt to build again the walls of our Zion. The Pastor of the parish had been for some time in our school of theology; but with this exception, every other person present was personally unknown to me. I embraced them all with joy; for they were faithful servants, fighting manfully the good fight of faith, against many adversaries.

I had seen in the distance a high hill, crowned by a vast and ancient edifice, at the foot of which lies the village of Beauvoisin. This building was an ancient castle, still inhabited, but belonging formerly to the Knights Templars. We visited it after dinner, and entered its spacious courtyard, where, in former times, the flashing arms of the Templars must have often been displayed. In the centre of the court we perceived a well of great depth, whose glittering waters seemed almost to emit sparks of fire, as if the sun had penetrated to

its crystal depths. We passed through several halls, and came out upon a terrace grown over with tangled shrubs, upon which the warder of former times had been accustomed to tread with measured steps. We could not but remember, that we, who then stood there, were also watchmen, called to serve and to guard a more spiritual edifice than that of the Knights Templars.

The friends who were with me pointed out, from the eminence where we were standing, the whole surrounding country, calling my attention particularly to the Cevennes mountains, so celebrated in the history of our Church, and which were just in front of us. O, what recollections the sight of them called up! It was there that the spirit of persecution was let loose, and rested not till the simple faith of the Gospel had been completely driven from their fastnesses. By the wounds then inflicted on the church, may we not recognise its divine character? What holy thoughts, what holy prayers, what holy actions, what holy sacrifices, have not been elicited by the violence of her adversaries? Who can tell whether many of those who died for the faith, or for the faith left their native country, would not, under other circumstances, have settled down into an unprofitable repose, and fallen into the sleep of death? Why should we feel so indignant against those who persecuted our

fore

fathers? They were the instruments of God for good to them, and to us also. Assuredly, "all things shall work together for good to them that love God."

Nevertheless, from the terrace of the old castle, I could not but recall to mind the scenes of blood of which the Cevennes had been the theatre, and which fulfilled to the letter that prophecy, "I saw the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus; and when I saw her, I wondered with great admiration." (Rev. xvii. 6.)

It is well that we should remember these persecutions: for, on the one hand, Rome would now make

us forget that which is her essential character, and wishes to exhibit herself with an appearance of toleration which she has never possessed; and, on the other hand, the recollection of the efforts made by Rome to extinguish in these parts the light of evangelical truth, is needed to excite us to spread there anew those doctrines of the Gospel.

Here, then, are a few of those scenes, which, after the lapse of so many years, seemed to present themselves vividly before my eyes; and here are some of the forms of blood, which, as I stood upon the Templars' walls, seemed to come forth from those mountains to send forth their fearful cry of accusation against murderous Rome. scenes of cruelty assimilate well with the scenes of debauchery which the sight of Avignon recalled to my memory.

These

The period for the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes was drawing near. At the Synod of Meaux, Allix, the Minister of Charenton, could not, during one of his addresses, restrain his lamentation at the near prospect of the downfal of Protestantism in France. The Royal Commissioner interrupted him, calling out to him with great brutality, that if he continued to censure the decree of his master, he would, with his own hands, throw him headlong from his pulpit. This was the last Synod that was held, and the Reformed faith was, so to speak, to perish on the tomb of Bishop Brissonet, one of its earliest protectors, and at the feet of Bossuet, its most formidable enemy.

And then the deed was executed! and an entire people were spoiled! from the Minister of State to the humble country shepherd! Two millions of men were cast out from citizenship, and outlawed; and there seemed but one more step to take, which was, to drive into the Church of Rome these flocks, without shepherds and without a refuge!

From Bearn, the cradle of French Calvinism, the savage "Dragonade" advanced towards the valley of the Garonne, and the Cevennes Troops of every description were

employed in this warlike mission; but the Dragoons, owing perhaps to their more brutal zeal, or to their more dazzling uniform, had the honour of giving their name to the whole body. On the eve of their arrival, the civil and ecclesiastical authorities of the cities assembled the Protestants in the public squares, and in an harangue, the general conclusion of which was the menacing announcement of the approach of the armed forces, they made known the irrevocable determination of the King. The terrified people, in some places, declared themselves converted by unanimous acclamations. Educated persons signed a confession of faith; the lower classes simply declared, 'I join myself," or cried, Ave Maria, or made the sign of the cross. In some towns, offices of conversion were established, where, after the new convert's name had been inscribed, he received a playing-card, on the back of which was a certificate, which would preserve him from the pursuit of the soldiery. The people of Nismes named these cards apocalyptically, "the mark of the beast," an expression of the deepest truth.

of a licentious soldiery, whose excesses would have disgraced even a horde of Tartars. These Dragoons would lock up the inhabitants of a house in some small closet, and would then proceed to throw the magnificent furniture into the street; they would then turn the splendid drawing-rooms into stables for their horses, and give them pails of milk or wine for their drink, and for litter, bales of wool, of cotton, of silk, or of the finest Holland cloth. If their host, or rather their victim, still resisted, they dragged him from his place of confinement, and either suspended him in a well, or, tying his hands and his feet across his back, would hoist him to a pulley with his face downwards, and sliding him up and down, as a chandelier, would suddenly drop him on his face, and then draw him up again to let him fall again in the same manner. Sometimes, after stripping him, they would set him to turn the spit, and while their meal was preparing, they would amuse themselves with pinching his flesh, and burning his hair, and sometimes oblige him to hold a live coal in his hand, while they recited a Pater Noster. But the most intolerable torment of all, was the deprivation of sleep. They would sometimes sell sleep to their victims at the price of ten, twenty, or thirty crowns an hour. And as soon as the wretched being had sunk to After him, they attempted sleep, the fatal hour would strike, to seduce the chief men of the when they would awaken him by neighbourhood. At Montauban, the sound of the drum. An old the Roman Catholic Bishop assem- man at Nismes, M. de Lacassagne, bled several of the neighbouring having been tormented for a long Protestant gentlemen, at the house time in this manner by fifty Draof M. de Boufflers, the Intendant goons, at length gave way, and abof the district. The servants of the jured his faith before Bishop Sigmansion, who had been concealed nier. "You will now be able to behind the door, rushed suddenly enjoy some sleep," said the Prelate upon them, threw them down, at- to him! "Alas, my Lord," replied tempting to bring them to their the old man, "I look for no rest knees, and while these gentlemen but in heaven; and God grant that were struggling to free themselves what I have just done may not shut from the hands of the servants, the me out from thence!" Madame Prelate made the sign of the cross upon each of them, which was deemed sufficient.

The soldiers entered the towns, with drawn swords and muskets raised. The first attempt was to constrain the Pastor to yield: if he resisted, he was driven away, that his example might not influence the flock.

The citizens and the common people were all this while the prey

de Lacassagne had, during this time, been wandering about the fields, dressed as a servant. Many women were seized with the pains of labour during their flight, and

brought forth their children in the woods. The weaker sex, generally speaking, suffered more than our own; not only on account of the modesty and delicacy of their nature, but from having a stronger faith, and a more enduring constancy. Young mothers, bound to the bed-posts, were doomed to the cruel alternative of abjuring their religion, or of seeing their babes perish before their eyes. Some few gave way, that they might be allowed to administer nourishment to their dying infants.

A youth of fifteen was taken to the castle of La Tourette, where, five or six times successively, a cord was placed around his head, with the threat to hang him instantly, if he would not change his religion; and in order to terrify him, and make him believe that they were about to put their threat into execution, his tormentors lifted him from the ground by the rope, and held him till his breath was nearly gone; and this they did several times. He was delivered out of their cruel hands by a constancy far beyond his years. Molines, a peasant at Desaignes, had his feet and his hands bound, and his head fastened between his knees: thus, by means of a bar which was passed through his cramped-up body, he was rolled backwards and forwards like a ball. Another had his lip burnt off with a red-hot iron. Others had their ribs, their arms, and their legs broken, by being beaten with clubs. A widow of sixty-four years of age was tied down to an arm-chair by some soldiers who lodged in her house, and carried to hear a sermon of one of the Romish Missionaries, who had not the common humanity to rebuke those who treated her thus. When she dropped her head, they instantly raised it with a stick, forcing her to keep her eyes fixed upon the Preacher. After the sermon, they unbound her; but upon her reaching home, they seized her again, and held her forcibly before a large fire, till she fainted in their arms.

Owing to the interdictions which were imposed, places of worship

were becoming so distant, that God's children were obliged to go fifty or sixty leagues from their own homes, to enjoy the consolation of hearing the Gospel preached. It was not only young persons, who were able to endure such fatigue, or others, whose comfortable circumstances enabled them to bear the expenses of such a journey, who thus came from a distance to swell the numbers of those assemblies not yet forbidden; but even aged people, some eighty years of age, infirm, and at considerable inconvenience to themselves, were known to brave the fatigues of the journey and the severity of the season, the danger and the expense of such undertakings, and to come and join with their brethren in devotional services which they feared would be for the last time in this life. They walked without stopping by day or by night, carrying their provisions with them, exposed to the rain, the snow, the ice, of a peculiarly severe winter, across dreadful roads, woods, ravines, and bogs: and at the end of all this, there was no comfortable fire by which to warm or to dry themselves; not even a covered place to receive them and shelter them from the inclemencies of the weather. Those who arrived first, took refuge in the church, and the rest remained at the entrance, having no place to rest themselves in. While they waited for daylight, all this multitude, composed of old men, women, and children, comforted themselves by singing those psalms which were usually taught to all those of the Reformed faith from their childhood; while some of them recited by heart, or read by the light of some candle, prayers which were familiar to all. These simple exercises of devotion being liable to misinterpretation, on account of the absence of their Pastor, he who ministered to this flock was obliged to give up his rest, in order that he might, by his presence, so to speak, legitimatize the devotions of these poor people.

But soon the most unheard-of violence put a stop to the zeal of

these faithful Christians, who so thirsted for the word of God. Officers and soldiers behaved with equal atrocity. They would spit in the women's faces, they would make them to lie down in their presence upon burning coals, or constrain them to keep their heads in heated ovens, till the smoke from it almost suffocated them. The fortitude of those who could thus suffer without being overcome, served but to increase the rage of the monsters, and the marks of all their torments excited no pity the tears, the cries, the transports, which the agonies of body, and the conflicts of their minds, sometimes elicited from these poor martyrs, only caused laughter to their executioners. They thought not of compassion until they saw one of their victims on the very verge of death or insensibility. Then, in cruel piety, they would seek to reanimate them, and impart to them a little strength, that they might once more renew their cruelties. Their great study was to discover torments which were as acute as they could be without being mortal, and to make the wretched victims of their rage experience to the very utmost all that the human frame can endure without dying.

Thanks be to God, that the number of the faithful was sufficiently great to fill all the prisons in the kingdom. And what prisons! Muddy and infectious pits, sewers where reptiles were engendered, dungeons where the sun was unknown. Several of these dungeons were called chausses d'hypocras, no doubt on account of the side-walls being arranged in the shape of a lozenge, and so assuming the form of an alembic. The prisoners could neither stand upright, nor sit, nor lie down in them. They were let

down by cords, and every day were brought up to have inflicted upon them the whip, the stick, the brand, or the strap. Many of them, after having been confined for some weeks, came out of prison, having lost their hair and their teeth. At Valence, carrion and the entrails of sheep were thrown into these pits. The unhappy beings immured in them, lay in the putrefaction of these sewers till their bodies swelled, and their skin might have been stripped from them like wetted paper, and they themselves presented the appearance of living corpses. At length, to disencumber the over-crowded prisons, Louvois dispatched many of them in old tartanes to America.

But from all parts of France, bulletins of conversion flew to Versailles. Oleron, Salins, and Sedan, converted themselves in a body; Montauban and Lyons, by deliberation, at the Hotel de Ville! Montpelier, Nismes, and their diocesses! Fifty thousand souls from the precincts of Bordeaux ! The diocesses of Gap and Embrun, and the valleys of Pragelas, did not even wait for the Dragoons! After the abjuration of a town, a solemn Te Deum was sung, and in a public procession banners were unfurled to the sound of the ringing of bells, and the firing of cannons; and the triumphant Priests carried in their train, from street to street, these forlorn and unhappy people, who, escorted by the soldiery, bore rather the appearance of captives taken in battle.+

This, my dear brother, is what Rome has done!

* Vessels much used in the Mediterranean, with one mast and a three-cornered sail.

See the History of the Edict of Nantes, in 5 vols. Histoire des Pasteurs du Desert, 2 vols.

THE LATE RICHARD BRACKENBURY, ESQ., OF ASWARDBY, LINCOLNSHIRE.

(To the Editor of the Wesleyan-Methodist Magazine.)

In the second year of my itinerancy I was laid aside from my ordinary duties by a severe attack of

ague, jaundice, and other debilitating affections, occasioned by frequent visits to the fens of Lincoln

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