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charged with the crime of having administered the I t's Supper in the garden, and he must leave the city. Hastily fleeing, he went to Yvonand, that he trobat te with Froment, who had done so much to eritten bris mind.
The sad state of the true Church lese Coretan to write of it, 'I love thee; I have seen tree ERN dressed, torn, dishevelled, chilled, brus og Breiteten disfigured. I have seen thee in shapers **, *** men would sooner take thee for a po save daughter of the Great King, and the
H oy Son. Listen ! thy friend calls thee; te w en er 1:24*, thy rights, and give thee the watch-word, but the ya attain to perfect freedom. The little cha n ( might have sat for this affecting picture ; y* SE # ones ‘met every day in houses, or gardens, too may um God, to sing psalms and Christian hymns, and to crit Holy Scripture.
oo was the banishment of Olivetan, for rising upon a bench and daring to say something after a friar had been bawling like a madman in decrying the Bible, exalting the Pope, and abusing the people, who sought for true liberty and the new life. All that the mild translator said was, “Master, I desire to show you honestly from the Scripture where you have erred in your discourse.' It was too much for those who dreaded fair discussion. He was pushed off the bench, saved from deadly blows by Chautemps, denied a hearing by the council, and expelled from the city. There was talk that these banishments were not enough. Farel had been driven away; but after him rose up Froment. He had been expelled ; but Guerin appeared in his stead. He had been cast out; but then came Olivetan. This fourth leader had been banished; and now somebody else would suddenly take his place. The whole band must be expelled, or treated with worse cruelties. There were secret plots formed in the house of the grand vicar ; an armed attack, a fight on the Molard, a plan to burn out the Huguenots, and a reign of terror.
There was the restoration of the bishop-prince, Peter la Baume, who, six years before, had carried off a young girl to his castle, and raised a tempest that bore him away into banishment. There were all his revenges upon the innocent, some of them being thrust into prison, and some put to flight. Chautemps escaped ; but his wife, the delicate, accomplished, devoted, and heroic Jaquema, must pay for it by suffering rough treatment in a narrow cell. Claudine saw her house again despoiled, and her husband fleeing for the mountains; and if he had not been overtaken, seized, and cast into a deep dungeon, she would have suffered in his stead. These are mere specimens of the persecution. There was almost everything to please the Sister Jeanne de Jussie in making up her journal, and telling how the women met to make war and kill the heretic wives, in order that the breed might be extirpated;' and how, with their little hatchets, and swords, and caps full of stones, 'there were full seven hundred children from twelve to fifteen years old, firmly resolved to do good service along with their mothers.' But what will she note down when Farel himself will be preaching to the nuns of St. Claire ?
Yet, amid all this storm and uproar, there was a voice from My Lords of Berne. Messengers went and told them all about this madness for Popery, and this violence against their ministers. They were aroused, like a 'bear robbed of her young.' Papal Friburg should not drive out of the re-allied city the men whom Protestant Berne sent there to preach the gospel. They did not mince matters.' They gave the Genevan council something to In mockery Claudine sat down before the magician, who held a book in his hand. Then, mounting on a round table to be better heard, he opened the book, read a few words, and began to apply them. Dame Claudine, not caring the least for the assembly, and wishing to make known her religion, crossed herself several times, and repeated certain prayers. Froment still unfolded the rich treasures of the little book. She began to be astonished; she looked at the minister ; she was not hearing an angel, but God was speaking from that small book. Not a more attentive listener was in the hall. She asked herself, “Can this be true, seeing that the Church knows nothing about it?' Her eyes fixed on the schoolmaster's book. It was not a missal or a breviary. It seemed to her full of life. It was indeed the word of life.
The talk was ended, and all lingered and left. She sat still, looked at the teacher, and asked, 'Is that all true? Is it proved by the gospel ?'
'It is all true. It is the gospel,' said he, in a pleasing voice. ‘Is not the mass mentioned in it?'
Not that I can find.' • And is the book from which you preach a genuine New Testament?'
• It is, madame.' It was probably Lefevre's version.
*Then lend it to me,' she earnestly requested. He did so, and she placed it carefully under her cloak, among her beads and relics, and went home talking with Paula, who began to hope that the finger of God had touched her soul.
Dame Claudine was in earnest. She went to her room, ordered that her family should not wait meals for her, nor knock at her door, and she remained apart for three days and three nights, without eating or drinking, but with prayers, fastings, and supplications.' The Testament lay open on her table before her, and she read it, kneeling and lifting her eyes to heaven for light. She had many severe struggles; but at last she heard her Lord say, through His word, “Daughter, thy sins are forgiven thee. She discovered that the grace of God trickled slowly into her heart;' but the least drop seemed a fountain never to be exhausted. Three days she thus spent, as Paul remained three days in prayer at Damascus.
And now she must see the man who had first led her into these rich treasures. She sent for him to come to her house over the bridge. He crossed the Rhone, and was met in her home with no other language than the “tears that fell on the floor.' When the tide of emotion had receded, she told him how God had opened for her the door of heaven, and so talked that the young preacher was greatly instructed. As Calvin says of Lydia, ‘From this tiny shoot an excellent church was to spring.'
One day she shut herself up in that room where she had heard the call of God, and resolved to extinguish all her former glory in dress and decoration. She took
all superfluous bravery, laid aside those ornaments and trappings which had served to show her off in a vainglorious way,' and packed them up for sale. These and her most beautiful robes were sold. The money she gave to the poor, particularly to the evangelists of France, who were now exiles in Geneva. All her life the refugees were most welcome to her house. Verily,' they said, "she follows the example of Dorcas, and deserves to