Foxe's Book of Martyrs

Chapter XVI: The Rise, Progress, Persecutions And Sufferings Of The Quakers

CHAPTER XVI.

THE RISE, PROGRESS, PERSECUTIONS, AND SUFFERINGS OF THE QUAKERS.

In treating of these people in a historical manner, we are obliged to have recourse to much tenderness. That they differ from the generality of protestants in some of the capital points of religion cannot be denied, and yet, as protestant dissenters, they are included under the description of the toleration act. It is not our business to inquire whether people of similar sentiments had any existence in the primitive ages of Christianity: perhaps, in some respects, they had not, but we are to write of them not as what they were, but what they now are. That they have been treated by several writers in a very contemptuous manner, is certain; that they did not deserve such treatment, is equally certain.

The appellation Quakers, was bestowed upon them as a term of reproach, in consequence of their apparent convulsions which they laboured under when they delivered their discourses, because they imagined they were the effect of divine inspiration.

It is not our business, at present, to inquire whether the sentiments of these people are agreeable to the gospel, but this much is certain, that the first leader of them, as a separate body, was a man of obscure birth, who had his first existence in Leicestershire, about the year 1624. In speaking of this man we shall deliver our own sentiments in a historical manner, and joining these to what have been said by the Friends themselves, we shall endeavour to furnish out a complete narrative.

He was descended of honest and respected parents, who brought him up in the national religion: but from a child he appeared religious, still, solid, and observing, beyond his years, and uncommonly knowing in divine things. He was brought up to husbandry, and other country business, and was particularly inclined to the solitary occupation of a shepherd; "an employment," says our author, "that very well suited his mind in several respects, both for its innocency and solitude; and was a just emblem of his after ministry and service." In the year 1646, he entirely forsook the national church, in whose tenets he had been brought up, as before observed; and in 1647, he travelled into Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire, without any set purpose of visiting particular places, but in a solitary manner he walked through several towns and villages, which way soever his mind turned. "He fasted much," said Sewell, "and walked often in retired places, with no other companion than his Bible." "He visited the most retired and religious people in those parts," says Penn, "and some there were, short of few, if any, in this nation, who waited for the consolation of Israel night and day; as Zacharias, Anna, and Simeon, did of old time." To these he was sent, and these he sought out in the neighbouring counties, and among them he sojourned till his more ample ministry came upon him. At this time he taught, and was an example of silence, endeavouring to bring them from self-performances; testifying of, and turning them to the light of Christ within them, and encouraging them to wait in patience, and to feel the power of it to stir in their hearts, that their knowledge and worship of God might stand in the power of an endless life which was to be found in the light, as it was obeyed in the manifestation of it in man: for in the word was life, and that life is the light of men. Life in the word, light in men; and life in men too, as the light is obeyed; the children of the light living by the life of the word, by which the word begets them again to God, which is the generation and new birth, without which there is no coming into the kingdom of God, and to which whoever comes is greater than John: that is, than John's dispensation, which was not that of the kingdom, but the consummation of the legal, and forerunning of the gospel times, the time of the kingdom. Accordingly several meetings were gathering in those parts; and thus his time was employed for some years.

In the year 1652, "he had a visitation of the great work of God in the earth, and of the way that he was to go forth, in a public ministry, to begin it." He directed his course northward, "and in every place where he came, if not before he came to it, he had his particular exercise and service shown to him, so that the Lord was his leader indeed." He made great numbers of converts to his opinions, and many pious and good men joined him in his ministry. These were drawn forth especially to visit the public assemblies to reprove, reform, and exhort them; sometimes in markets, fairs, streets, and by the highway-side, "calling people to repentance, and to return to the Lord, with their hearts as well as their mouths; directing them to the light of Christ within them, to see, examine, and to consider their ways by, and to eschew the evil, and to do the good and acceptable will of God."

They were not without opposition in the work they imagined themselves called to, being often set in the stocks, stoned, beaten, whipped and imprisoned, though, as our author observes, honest men of good report, that had left wives, children, houses, and lands, to visit them with a living call to repentance. But these coercive methods rather forwarded than abated their zeal, and in those parts they brought over many proselytes, and amongst them several magistrates, and others of the better sort. They apprehended the Lord had forbidden them to pull off their hats to any one, high or low, and required them to speak to the people, without distinction, in the language of thou and thee. They scrupled bidding people good-morrow, or good-night, nor might they bend the knee to any one, even in supreme authority. Both men and woman went in a plain and simple dress, different from the fashion of the times. They neither gave nor accepted any titles of respect or honour, nor would they call any man master on earth. Several texts of scripture they quoted in defence of these singularities; such as, Swear not at all. How can ye believe who receive honour one of another, and seek not the honour which comes from God only? &c. &c. They placed the basis of religion in an inward light, and an extraordinary impulse of the Holy Spirit.

In 1654, their first separate meeting in London was held in the house of Robert Dring, in Watling-street, for by that time they spread themselves into all parts of the kingdom, and had in many places set up meetings or assemblies, particularly in Lancashire, and the adjacent parts, but they were still exposed to great persecutions and trials of every kind. One of them in a letter to the protector, Oliver Cromwell, represents, though there are no penal laws in force obliging men to comply with the established religion, yet the Quakers are exposed upon other accounts; they are fined and imprisoned for refusing to take an oath; for not paying their tithes; for disturbing the public assemblies, and meeting in the streets, and places of public resort; some of them have been whipped for vagabonds, and for their plain speeches to the magistrate.

Under favour of the then toleration, they opened their meetings at the Bull and Mouth, in Aldersgate-street, where women, as well as men, were moved to speak. Their zeal transported them to some extravagancies, which laid them still more open to the lash of their enemies, who exercised various severities upon them throughout the next reign. Upon the suppression of Venner's mad insurrection, the government, having published a proclamation, forbidding the Anabaptists, Quakers, and Fifth Monarchy Men, to assemble or meet together under pretence of worshipping God, except it be in some parochial church, chapel, or in private houses, by consent of the persons there inhabiting, all meetings in other places being declared to be unlawful and riotous, &c. &c. the Quakers thought it expedient to address the king thereon, which they did in the following words:

"O king Charles!

"Our desire is, that thou mayest live for ever in the fear of God, and thy council. We beseech thee and thy council, to read these following lines in tender bowels, and compassion for our souls, and for your good.

"And this consider, we are about four hundred imprisoned, in and about this city, of men and women from their families, besides, in the county jails, about ten hundred; we desire that our meetings may not be broken up, but that all may come to a fair trial, that our innocency may be cleared up.

"London, 16th day, eleventh month, 1660."

On the 28th of the same month, they published the declaration referred to in their address, entitled, "A declaration from the harmless and innocent people of God, called Quakers, against all sedition, plotters, and fighters in the world, for removing the ground of jealousy and suspicion, from both magistrates and people in the kingdom, concerning wars and fightings." It was presented to the king the 21st day of the eleventh month, 1660, and he promised them upon his royal word, that they should not suffer for their opinions, as long as they lived peaceably; but his promises were very little regarded afterward.

In 1661, they assumed courage to petition the house of Lords for a toleration of their religion, and for a dispensation from taking the oaths, which they held unlawful, not from any disaffection to the government, or a belief that they were less obliged by an affirmation, but from a persuasion that all oaths were unlawful; and that swearing upon the most solemn occasions was forbidden in the New Testament. Their petition was rejected, and instead of granting them relief, an act was passed against them, the preamble to which set forth, "That whereas several persons have taken up an opinion that an oath, even before a magistrate, is unlawful, and contrary to the word of God: and whereas, under pretence of religious worship, the said persons do assemble in great numbers in several parts of the kingdom, separating themselves from the rest of his majesty's subjects, and the public congregations and usual places of divine worship; be it therefore enacted, that if any such persons, after the 24th of March, 1661-2, shall refuse to take an oath when lawfully tendered, or persuade others to do it, or maintain in writing or otherwise, the unlawfulness of taking an oath; or if they shall assemble for religious worship, to the number of five or more, of the age of fifteen, they shall for the first offence forfeit five pounds; for the second, ten pounds; and for the third shall abjure the realm, or be transported to the plantations: and the justices of peace at their open sessions may hear and finally determine in the affair."

This act had a most dreadful effect upon the Quakers, though it was well known and notorious that these conscientious persons were far from sedition or disaffection to the government. George Fox, in his address to the king, acquaints him, that three thousand and sixty-eight of their friends had been imprisoned since his majesty's restoration; that their meetings were daily broken up by men with clubs and arms, and their friends thrown into the water, and trampled under foot till the blood gushed out, which gave rise to their meeting in the open streets. A relation was printed, signed by twelve witnesses, which says, that more than four thousand two hundred Quakers were imprisoned; and of them five hundred were in and about London, and the suburbs; several of whom were dead in the jails.

However, they even gloried in their sufferings, which increased every day; so that in 1665, and the intermediate years, they were harassed without example. As they persisted resolutely to assemble, openly, at the Bull and Mouth, before mentioned, the soldiers, and other officers, dragged them from thence to prison, till Newgate was filled with them, and multitudes died of close confinement, in that and other jails.

Six hundred of them, says an account published at this time, were in prison, merely for religion's sake, of whom several were banished to the plantations. In short, says Mr. Neale, the Quakers gave such full employment to the informers, that they had less leisure to attend the meetings of other dissenters.

Yet, under all these calamities, they behaved with patience and modesty towards the government, and upon occasion of the Rye-house plot in 1682, thought proper to declare their innocence of that sham plot, in an address to the king, wherein, appealing to the Searcher of all hearts, they say, their principles do not allow them to take up defensive arms, much less to avenge themselves for the injuries they received from others: that they continually pray for the king's safety and preservation; and therefore take this occasion humbly to beseech his majesty to compassionate their suffering friends, with whom the jails are so filled, that they want air, to the apparent hazard of their lives, and to the endangering an infection in divers places. Besides, many houses, shops, barns, and fields are ransacked, and the goods, corn, and cattle swept away, to the discouraging trade and husbandry, and impoverishing great numbers of quiet and industrious people; and this, for no other cause, but for the exercise of a tender conscience in the worship of Almighty God, who is sovereign Lord and King of men's consciences.

On the accession of James II. they addressed that monarch honestly and plainly, telling him, "We are come to testify our sorrow for the death of our good friend Charles, and our joy for thy being made our governor. We are told thou art not of the persuasion of the church of England, no more than we; therefore we hope thou wilt grant us the same liberty which thou allowest thyself, which doing, we wish thee all manner of happiness."

When James, by his dispensing power, granted liberty to the dissenters, they began to enjoy some rest from their troubles; and indeed it was high time, for they were swelled to an enormous amount. They, the year before this, to them one of glad release, in a petition to James for a cessation of their sufferings, set forth, "that of late above one thousand five hundred of their friends, both men and women, and that now there remain one thousand three hundred and eighty-three; of which two hundred are women, many under sentence of praemunire; and more than three hundred near it, for refusing the oath of allegiance, because they could not swear. Three hundred and fifty have died in prison since the year 1680; in London, the jail of Newgate has been crowded, within these two years sometimes with near 20 in a room, whereby several have been suffocated, and others, who have been taken out sick, have died of malignant fevers within a few days. Great violences, outrageous distresses, and woful havock and spoil, have been made upon people's goods and estates, by a company of idle, extravagant, and merciless informers, by persecutions on the conventicle-act, and others, also on qui tam writs, and on other processes, for twenty pounds a month, and two-thirds of their estates seized for the king. Some had not a bed to rest on, others had no cattle to till the ground, nor corn for feed or bread, nor tools to work with, the said informers and bailiffs in some places breaking into houses, and making great waste and spoil, under pretence of serving the king and the church. Our religious assemblies have been charged at common law with being rioters and disturbers of the public peace, whereby great numbers have been confined in prison without regard to age, and many confined in holes and dungeons. The seizing for L20 a month has amounted to many thousands, and several who have employed some hundreds of poor people in manufactures, are disabled to do so any more, by reason of long imprisonment. They spare neither widow nor fatherless, nor have they so much as a bed to lie on. The informers are both witnesses and prosecutors, to the ruin of great numbers of sober families; and justices of the peace have been threatened with the forfeiture of one hundred pounds, if they do not issue out warrants upon their informations." With this petition they presented a list of their friends in prison, in the several counties, amounting to four hundred and sixty.

During the reign of king James II. these people were, through the intercession of their friend Mr. Penn, treated with greater indulgence than ever they had been before. They were now become extremely numerous in many parts of the country, and the settlement of Pennsylvania taking place soon after, many of them went over to America. There they enjoyed the blessings of a peaceful government, and cultivated the arts of honest industry.

As the whole colony was the property of Mr. Penn, so he invited people of all denominations to come and settle with him. A universal liberty of conscience took place; and in this new colony the natural rights of mankind were, for the first time, established.

These Friends are, in the present age, a very harmless, inoffensive body of people; but of that we shall take more notice hereafter. By their wise regulations, they not only do honour to themselves, but they are of vast service to the community.

It may be necessary here to observe, that as the Friends, commonly called Quakers, will not take an oath in a court of justice, so their affirmation is permitted in all civil affairs; but they cannot prosecute a criminal, because, in the English courts of justice, all evidence must be upon oath.

An account of the persecution of Friends, commonly called Quakers in the United States.

About the middle of the seventeenth century, much persecution and suffering were inflicted on a sect of protestant dissenters, commonly called Quakers: a people which arose at that time in England some of whom sealed their testimony with their blood.

For an account of the above people, see Sewell's, or Gough's history of them.

The principal points upon which their conscientious nonconformity rendered them obnoxious to the penalties of the law, were,

1. The Christian resolution of assembling publicly for the worship of God, in a manner most agreeable to their consciences.

2. Their refusal to pay tithes, which they esteemed a Jewish ceremony, abrogated by the coming of Christ.

3. Their testimony against wars and fighting, the practice of which they judged inconsistent with the command of Christ: "Love your enemies," &c. Matt. v. 44.

4. Their constant obedience to the command of Christ: "Swear not at all," &c. Matt. v. 34.

5. Their refusal to pay rates or assessments for building and repairing houses for a worship which they did not approve.

6. Their use of the proper and Scriptural language, "thou," and "thee," to a single person: and their disuse of the custom of uncovering their heads, or pulling off their hats, by way of homage to man.

7. The necessity many found themselves under, of publishing what they believed to be the doctrine of truth; and sometimes even in the places appointed for the public national worship.

Their conscientious noncompliance in the preceding particulars, exposed them to much persecution and suffering, which consisted in prosecutions, fines, cruel beatings, whippings, and other corporeal punishments; imprisonment, banishment, and even death.

To relate a particular account of their persecutions and sufferings, would extend beyond the limits of this work: we shall therefore refer, for that information, to the histories already mentioned, and more particularly to Besse's Collection of their sufferings; and shall confine our account here, mostly to those who sacrificed their lives, and evinced, by their disposition of mind, constancy, patience, and faithful perseverance, that they were influenced by a sense of religious duty.

Numerous and repeated were the persecutions against them; and sometimes for transgressions or offences which the law did not contemplate or embrace.

Many of the fines and penalties exacted of them, were not only unreasonable and exorbitant, but as they could not consistently pay them, were sometimes distrained to several times the value of the demand; whereby many poor families were greatly distressed, and obliged to depend on the assistance of their friends.

Numbers were not only cruelly beaten and whipped in a public manner, like criminals, but some were branded and others had their ears cut off.

Great numbers were long confined in loathsome prisons; in which some ended their days in consequence thereof.

Many were sentenced to banishment; and a considerable number were transported. Some were banished on pain of death; and four were actually executed by the hands of the hangman, as we shall here relate, after inserting copies of some of the laws of the country where they suffered.

"At a General Court held at Boston, the 14th of October, 1656.

"Whereas, there is a cursed sect of heretics, lately risen up in the world, which are commonly called Quakers, who take upon them to be immediately sent from God, and infallibly assisted by the Spirit, to speak and write blasphemous opinions, despising government, and the order of God, in the church and commonwealth, speaking evil of dignities, reproaching and reviling magistrates and ministers, seeking to turn the people from the faith, and gain proselytes to their pernicious ways: this court taking into consideration the premises, and to prevent the like mischief, as by their means is wrought in our land, doth hereby order, and by authority of this court, be it ordered and enacted, that what master or commander of any ship, bark, pink, or ketch, shall henceforth bring into any harbour, creek, or cove, within this jurisdiction, any Quaker or Quakers, or other blasphemous heretics, shall pay, or cause to be paid, the fine of one hundred pounds to the treasurer of the country, except it appear he want true knowledge or information of their being such; and, in that case, he hath liberty to clear himself by his oath, when sufficient proof to the contrary is wanting: and, for default of good payment, or good security for it, shall be cast into prison, and there to continue till the said sum be satisfied to the treasurer as aforesaid. And the commander of any ketch, ship, or vessel, being legally convicted, shall give in sufficient security to the governor, or any one or more of the magistrates, who have power to determine the same, to carry them back to the place whence he brought them; and, on his refusal so to do, the governor or one or more of the magistrates, are hereby empowered to issue out his or their warrants to commit such master or commander to prison, there to continue, till he give in sufficient security to the content of the governor, or any of the magistrates, as aforesaid. And it is hereby further ordered and enacted, that what Quaker soever shall arrive in this country from foreign parts, or shall come into this jurisdiction from any parts adjacent, shall be forthwith committed to the house of correction; and, at their entrance, to be severely whipped, and by the master thereof be kept constantly to work, and none suffered to converse or speak with them, during the time of their imprisonment, which shall be no longer than necessity requires. And it is ordered, if any person shall knowingly import into any harbour of this jurisdiction, any Quakers' books or writings, concerning their devilish opinions, shall pay for such book or writing, being legally proved against him or them the sum of five pounds; and whosoever shall disperse or conceal any such book or writing, and it be found with him or her, or in his or her house and shall not immediately deliver the same to the next magistrate; shall forfeit or pay five pounds, for the dispersing or concealing of any such book or writing. And it is hereby further enacted, that if any person within this colony, shall take upon them to defend the heretical opinions of the Quakers, or any of their books or papers, shall be fined for the first time forty shillings; if they shall persist in the same, and shall again defend it the second time, four pounds; if notwithstanding they again defend and maintain the said Quakers' heretical opinions, they shall be committed to the house of correction till there be convenient passage to send them out of the land, being sentenced by the court of Assistants to banishment. Lastly, it is hereby ordered, that what person or persons soever, shall revile the persons of the magistrates or ministers, as is usual with the Quakers, such person or persons shall be severely whipped or pay the sum of five pounds.

"This is a true copy of the court's order, as attests

"EDWARD RAWSON, Sec."

"At a General Court held at Boston, the 14th of October, 1657.

"As an addition to the late order, in reference to the coming or bringing of any of the cursed sect of the Quakers into this jurisdiction, it is ordered, that whosoever shall from henceforth bring, or cause to be brought, directly or indirectly, any known Quaker or Quakers, or other blasphemous heretics, into this jurisdiction, every such person shall forfeit the sum of one hundred pounds to the country, and shall by warrant from any magistrate be committed to prison, there to remain till the penalty be satisfied and paid; and if any person or persons within this jurisdiction, shall henceforth entertain and conceal any such Quaker or Quakers, or other blasphemous heretics, knowing them so to be, every such person shall forfeit to the country forty shillings for every hours' entertainment and concealment of any Quaker or Quakers, &c. as aforesaid, and shall be committed to prison as aforesaid, till the forfeiture be fully satisfied and paid. And it is further ordered, that if any Quaker or Quakers shall presume, after they have once suffered what the law requires, to come into this jurisdiction, every such male Quaker shall, for the first offence, have one of his ears cut off, and be kept at work in the house of correction, till he can be sent away at his own charge; and for the second offence, shall have his other ear cut off; and every woman Quaker, that has suffered the law here, that shall presume to come into this jurisdiction, shall be severely whipped, and kept at the house of correction at work, till she be sent away at her own charge, and so also for her coming again, she shall be alike used as aforesaid. And for every Quaker, he or she, that shall a third time herein again offend, they shall have their tongues bored through with a hot iron, and be kept at the house of correction close to work, till they be sent away at their own charge. And it is further ordered, that all and every Quaker arising from among ourselves, shall be dealt with, and suffer the like punishment as the law provides against foreign Quakers.

"EDWARD RAWSON, Sec."

"An Act made at a General Court, held at Boston, the 20th of October, 1658.

"Whereas, there is a pernicious sect, commonly called Quakers, lately risen, who by word and writing have published and maintained many dangerous and horrid tenets, and do take upon them to change and alter the received laudable customs of our nation, in giving civil respect to equals, or reverence to superiors; whose actions tend to undermine the civil government, and also to destroy the order of the churches, by denying all established forms of worship, and by withdrawing from orderly church fellowship, allowed and approved by all orthodox professors of truth, and instead thereof, and in opposition thereunto, frequently meeting by themselves, insinuating themselves into the minds of the simple, or such as are at least affected to the order and government of church and commonwealth, whereby divers of our inhabitants have been infected, notwithstanding all former laws, made upon the experience of their arrogant and bold obtrusions, to disseminate their principles amongst us, prohibiting their coming into this jurisdiction, they have not been deterred from their impious attempts to undermine our peace, and hazard our ruin.

"For prevention thereof, this court doth order and enact, that any person or persons, of the cursed sect of the Quakers, who is not an inhabitant of, but is found within this jurisdiction, shall be apprehended without warrant, where no magistrate is hand, by any constable commissioner, or select-man, and conveyed from constable to constable, to the next magistrate, who shall commit the said person to close prison, there to remain (without bail) until the next court of Assistants, where they shall have legal trial. And being convicted to be of the sect of the Quakers, shall be sentenced to banishment, on pain of death. And that every inhabitant of this jurisdiction, being convicted to be of the aforesaid sect, either by taking up, publishing, or defending the horrid opinions of the Quakers, or the stirring up mutiny, sedition, or rebellion against the government, or by taking up their abusive and destructive practices, viz. denying civil respect to equals and superiors, and withdrawing from the church assemblies; and instead thereof, frequenting meetings of their own, in opposition to our church order; adhering to, or approving of any known Quaker, and the tenets and practices of Quakers, that are opposite to the orthodox received opinions of the godly; and endeaving to disaffect others to civil government and church order, or condemning the practice and proceedings of this court against the Quakers, manifesting thereby their complying with those, whose design is to overthrow the order established in church and state: every such person, upon conviction before the said court of Assistants, in manner aforesaid, shall be committed to close prison for one month, and then, unless they choose voluntarily to depart this jurisdiction, shall give bond for their good behaviour and appear at the next court, where, continuing obstinate, and refusing to retract and reform the aforesaid opinions, they shall be sentenced to banishment, upon pain of death. And any one magistrate, upon information given him of any such person, shall cause him to be apprehended, and shall commit any such person to prison, according to his discretion, until he come to trial as aforesaid."

It appears there were also laws passed in both of the then colonies of New-Plymouth and New-Haven, and in the Dutch settlement at New-Amsterdam, now New-York, prohibiting the people called Quakers, from coming into those places, under severe penalties; in consequence of which, some underwent considerable suffering.

The two first who were executed were William Robinson, merchant, of London, and Marmaduke Stevenson, a countryman, of Yorkshire. These coming to Boston, in the beginning of September, were sent for by the court of Assistants, and there sentenced to banishment, on pain of death. This sentence was passed also on Mary Dyar, mentioned hereafter, and Nicholas Davis, who were both at Boston. But William Robinson, being looked upon as a teacher, was also condemned to be whipped severely; and the constable was commanded to get an able man to do it. Then Robinson was brought into the street, and there stripped; and having his hands put through the holes of the carriage of a great gun, where the jailer held him, the executioner gave him twenty stripes, with a three-fold cord-whip. Then he and the other prisoners were shortly after released, and banished, as appears from the following warrant:

"You are required by these, presently to set at liberty William Robinson, Marmaduke Stevenson, Mary Dyar, and Nicholas Davis, who, by an order of the court and council, had been imprisoned, because it appeared by their own confession, words, and actions, that they are Quakers: wherefore, a sentence was pronounced against them, to depart this jurisdiction, on pain of death; and that they must answer it at their peril, if they, or any of them, after the 14th of this present month, September, are found within this jurisdiction, or any part thereof.

"EDWARD RAWSON"

"Boston, September 12, 1659."

Though Mary Dyar and Nicholas Davis left that jurisdiction for that time, yet Robinson and Stevenson, though they departed the town of Boston, could not yet resolve (not being free in mind) to depart that jurisdiction, though their lives were at stake. And so they went to Salem, and some places thereabout, to visit and build up their friends in the faith. But it was not long before they were taken, and put again into prison at Boston, and chains locked to their legs. In the next month, Mary Dyar returned also. And as she stood before the prison, speaking with one Christopher Holden, who was come thither to inquire for a ship bound for England, whither he intended to go, she was also taken into custody. Thus, they had now three persons, who, according to their law, had forfeited their lives. And, on the 20th of October, these three were brought into court, where John Endicot and others were assembled. And being called to the bar, Endicot commanded the keeper to pull off their hats; and then said, that they had made several laws to keep the Quakers from amongst them, and neither whipping, nor imprisoning, nor cutting off ears, nor banishing upon pain of death, would keep them from amongst them. And further, he said, that he or they desired not the death of any of them. Yet, notwithstanding, his following words, without more ado, were, "Give ear, and hearken to your sentence of death." Sentence of death was also passed upon Marmaduke Stevenson, Mary Dyar, and William Edrid. Several others were imprisoned, whipped, and fined. We have no disposition to justify the Pilgrims for these proceedings, but we think, considering the circumstances of the age in which they lived, their conduct admits of much palliation. The following remarks of Mr. Hawes, in his tribute to the memory of the Pilgrims, are worthy of serious consideration.

"It is alleged that they enacted laws which were oppressive to other denominations, and, moreover, that they were actually guilty of persecution. This, indeed, is a serious charge, and to some extent must be admitted to be true. And yet whoever candidly examines the facts in the case, will find abundant evidence that our fathers, in this respect, were far from being sinners above all who have dwelt on the earth. Many of the laws that are complained of were enacted when there were few or none of any other denomination in the land. They were designed to protect and support their own ecclesiastical and civil order; and not to operate at all as persecuting or oppressive enactments against christians belonging to other sects. It is also true that most of those persons who are said to have been persecuted and oppressed, suffered not so much for their religious opinions, as for their offences against the state. Some of them outraged all decency and order, and committed such acts as would unquestionably, at the present day, subject a man to imprisonment, if not to severer punishment.

"This, according to Winthrop, was the ground of the sentence of banishment, passed on Roger Williams. 'He broached and divulged divers new opinions against the authority of magistrates, as also wrote letters of defamation both of the magistrates and churches.'"--Winthrop's Hist. of N. E. edit. by Savage, vol. 1, p. 167.

"For a particular account of the causes for which Mr. Williams was banished, see Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts, vol. 1, p. 41; Dwight's Travels, vol. 1, p. 142; Magnalia, vol. 2, p. 430. As for the laws subsequently enacted against the Baptists and Quakers, no one most certainly can justify them. They were oppressive and wrong. But let no one reproach, too severely, the memory of our fathers, in this matter, till he is certain, that in similar circumstances, he would have shown a better temper.

"It is allowed that they were culpable; but we do not concede, that in the present instance, they stood alone, or that they merited all the censure bestowed on them. 'Laws similar to those of Massachusetts were passed elsewhere against the Quakers and also against the Baptists, particularly in Virginia. If no execution took place here, it was not owing to the moderation of the church.'"--Jefferson Virg. Query, XVIII.

"The prevalent opinion among most sects of christians, at that day, that toleration is sinful, ought to be remembered; nor should it be forgotten, that the first Quakers in New England, besides speaking and writing what was deemed blasphemous, reviled magistrates and ministers, and disturbed religious assemblies; and that the tendency of their opinions and practices was to the subversion of the commonwealth in the period of its infancy."--Holmes' Am. Annals. Hutch. vol. 1, p. 180-9.

"It should be added, that in Massachusetts the law which enacted that all Quakers returning into the state after banishment, should be punished with death, and under which four persons were executed, met with great, and at first, successful opposition. The deputies, who constituted the popular branch of the legislature, at first rejected it; but afterwards, on reconsideration, concurred with the magistrates, (by whom it was originally proposed,) by a majority of only one."--Chr. Spect. 1830, p. 266.

"The fathers of New England, endured incredible hardships in providing for themselves a home in the wilderness; and to protect themselves in the undisturbed enjoyment of rights, which they had purchased at so dear a rate, they sometimes adopted measures which, if tried by the more enlightened and liberal views of the present day, must at once be pronounced altogether unjustifiable. But shall they be condemned without mercy for not acting up to principles which were unacknowledged and unknown throughout the whole of christendom? Shall they alone be held responsible for opinions and conduct which had become sacred by antiquity, and which were common to christians of all other denominations? Every government then in existence assumed to itself the right to legislate in matters of religion; and to restrain heresy by penal statutes. This right was claimed by rulers, admitted by subjects, and is sanctioned by the names of Lord Bacon and Montesquieu, and many others equally famed for their talents and learning. It is unjust then, to 'press upon one poor persecuted sect, the sins of all christendom?' The fault of our fathers was the fault of the age; and though this cannot justify, it certainly furnishes an extenuation of their conduct. As well might you condemn them for not understanding the art of navigating by steam, as for not understanding and acting up to the principles of religious toleration. At the same time, it is but just to say, that imperfect as were their views of the rights of conscience, they were nevertheless far in advance of the age to which they belonged; and it is to them more than to any other class of men on earth, the world is indebted for the more rational views that now prevail on the subject of civil and religious liberty."

Chapter XVII: Persecutions Of The French Protestants In The South Of France, During The Years 1814 And

CHAPTER XVII.

PERSECUTIONS OF THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS IN THE SOUTH OF FRANCE, DURING THE YEARS 1814 AND 1820.

The persecution in this protestant part of France continued with very little intermission from the revocation of the edict of Nantes, by Louis XIV. till a very short period previous to the commencement of the late French revolution. In the year 1785, M. Rebaut St. Etienne and the celebrated M. de la Fayette were among the first persons who interested themselves with the court of Louis XVI., in removing the scourge of persecution from this injured people, the inhabitants of the south of France.

Such was the opposition on the part of the catholics and the courtiers, that it was not till the end of the year 1790, that the protestants were freed from their alarms. Previously to this, the catholics at Nismes in particular, had taken up arms; Nismes then presented a frightful spectacle; armed men ran through the city, fired from the corners of the streets, and attacked all they met with swords and forks. A man named Astuc was wounded and thrown into the aqueduct; Baudon fell under the repeated strokes of bayonets and sabres, and his body was also thrown into the water; Boucher, a young man only 17 years of age, was shot as he was looking out of his window; three electors wounded, one dangerously; another elector wounded, only escaped death by repeatedly declaring he was a catholic; a third received four sabre wounds, and was taken home dreadfully mangled. The citizens that fled were arrested by the catholics upon the roads, and obliged to give proofs of their religion before their lives were granted. M. and Madame Vogue, were at their country house, which the zealots broke open, where they massacred both, and destroyed their dwelling. M. Blacher, a protestant seventy years of age, was cut to pieces with a sickle; young Pyerre, carrying some food to his brother, was asked, "Catholic or protestant?" "Protestant," being the reply, a monster fired at the lad, and he fell. One of the murderer's companions said, "you might as well have killed a lamb." "I have sworn," replied he, "to kill four protestants for my share, and this will count for one." However, as these atrocities provoked the troops to unite in defence of the people, a terrible vengeance was retaliated upon the catholic party that had used arms, which with other circumstances, especially the toleration exercised by Napoleon Buonaparte, kept them down completely till the year 1814, when the unexpected return of the ancient government rallied them all once more round the old banners.

The arrival of King Louis XVIII. at Paris.

This was known at Nismes on the 13th of April, 1814. In a quarter of an hour, the white cockade was seen in every direction, the white flag floated on the public buildings, on the splendid monuments of antiquity, and even on the tower of Mange, beyond the city walls. The protestants, whose commerce had suffered materially during the war, were among the first to unite in the general joy, and to send in their adhesion to the senate, and the legislative body; and several of the protestant departments sent addresses to the throne, but unfortunately, M. Froment was again at Nismes at the moment when many bigots being ready to join him, the blindness and fury of the sixteenth century rapidly succeeded the intelligence and philanthropy of the nineteenth. A line of distinction was instantly traced between men of different religious opinions; the spirit of the old catholic church was again to regulate each person's share of esteem and safety. The difference of religion was now to govern every thing else; and even catholic domestics who had served protestants with zeal and affection, began to neglect their duties, or to perform them ungraciously, and with reluctance. At the fetes and spectacles that were given at the public expense, the absence of the protestants was charged on them as a proof of their disloyalty; and in the midst of the cries of "Vive le Roi," the discordant sounds of "A bas le Maire," down with the mayor, were heard. M. Castletan was a protestant; he appeared in public with the prefect M. Ruland, a catholic, when potatoes were thrown at him, and the people declared that he ought to resign his office. The bigots of Nismes even succeeded in procuring an address to be presented to the king, stating that there ought to be in France but one God, one king, and one faith. In this they were imitated by the catholics of several towns.

The History of the Silver Child.

About this time, M. Baron, counsellor of the Cour Royale of Nismes, formed the plan of dedicating to God a silver child, if the Duchess d'Angouleme would give a prince to France. This project was converted into a public religious vow, which was the subject of conversation both in public and private, whilst persons, whose imaginations were inflamed by these proceedings, run about the streets crying Vivent les Bourbons, or the Bourbons forever. In consequence of this superstitious frenzy, it is said that, at Alais, women were advised and instigated to poison their protestant husbands, and at length it was found convenient to accuse them of political crimes. They could no longer appear in public without insults and injuries. When the mobs met with protestants, they seized them, and danced round them with barbarous joy, and amidst repeated cries of Vive le Roi, they sung verses, the burden of which was, "We will wash our hands in protestant blood, and make black puddings of the blood of Calvin's children." The citizens who came to the promenades for air and refreshment, from the close and dirty streets, were chased with shouts of Vive le Roi, as if those shouts were to justify every excess. If protestants referred to the charter, they were directly assured it would be of no use to them, and that they had only been managed to be more effectually destroyed. Persons of rank were heard to say in the public streets, "All the Huguenots must be killed; this time their children must be killed, that none of the accursed race may remain." Still, it is true, they were not murdered, but cruelly treated, protestant children could no longer mix in the sports of catholics, and were not even permitted to appear without their parents. At dark their families shut themselves up in their apartments; but even then stones were thrown against their windows. When they arose in the morning, it was not uncommon to find gibbets drawn on their doors or walls; and in the streets the catholics held cords already soaped before their eyes, and pointed out the instruments by which they hoped and designed to exterminate them. Small gallows or models were handed about, and a man who lived opposite to one of the pastors, exhibited one of these models in his window, and made signs sufficiently intelligible when the minister passed. A figure representing a protestant preacher was also hung up on a public crossway, and the most atrocious songs were sung under his window. Towards the conclusion of the carnival, a plan had even been formed to make a caricature of the four ministers of the place, and burn them in effigy; but this was prevented by the mayor of Nismes, a protestant. A dreadful song presented to the prefect, in the country dialect, with a false translation, was printed by his approval, and had a great run before he saw the extent of the error into which he had been betrayed. The sixty-third regiment of the line was publicly censured and insulted, for having, according to order, protected protestants. In fact, the protestants seemed to be as sheep destined for the slaughter.

Napoleon's Return from the Isle of Elba.

Soon after this event, the duke d'Angouleme was at Nismes, and remained there some time; but even his influence was insufficient to bring about a reconciliation between the catholics and the protestants of that city. During the hundred days betwixt Napoleon's return from the Isle of Elba, and his final downfall, not a single life was lost in Nismes, not a single house was pillaged; only four of the most notorious disturbers of the peace were punished, or rather prevented from doing mischief, and even this was not an act of the protestant but the arrete of the catholic prefect, announced every where with the utmost publicity. Some time after, when M. Baron, who proposed the vow of the silver child in favour of the Duchess d'Angouleme, who was considered as the chief of the catholic royalists, was discovered at the bottom of an old wine tun, the populace threw stones at his carriage, and vented their feelings in abusive language. The protestant officers protected him from injury.

The Catholic arms at Beaucaire.

In May, 1815, a federative association, similar to those of Lyons, Grenoble, Paris, Avignon, and Montpelier, was desired by many persons at Nismes; but this federation terminated here after an ephemeral and illusory existence of fourteen days. In the mean while a large party of catholic zealots were in arms at Beaucaire, and who soon pushed their patroles so near the walls of Nismes, "as to alarm the inhabitants." These catholics applied to the English off Marseilles for assistance, and obtained the grant of 1000 muskets, 10,000 cartouches, &c. General Gilly, however, was soon sent against these partizans, who prevented them from coming to extremes, by granting them an armistice; and yet when Louis XVIII. had returned to Paris, after the expiration of Napoleon's reign of a hundred days, and peace and party spirit seemed to have been subdued, even at Nismes, bands from Beaucaire joined Trestaillon in this city, to glut the vengeance they had so long premeditated. General Gilly had left the department several days: the troops of the line left behind had taken the white cockade, and waited farther orders, whilst the new commissioners had only to proclaim the cessation of hostilities, and the complete establishment of the king's authority. In vain, no commissioners appeared, no despatches arrived to calm and regulate the public mind; but towards evening the advanced guard of the banditti, to the amount of several hundreds, entered the city, undesired but unopposed. As they marched without order or discipline, covered with clothes or rags of all colours, decorated with cockades not white, but white and green, armed with muskets, sabres, forks, pistols and reaping hooks, intoxicated with wine, and stained with the blood of the protestants whom they had murdered on their route, they presented a most hideous and appalling spectacle. In the open place in the front of the barracks, this banditti was joined by the city armed mob, headed by Jaques Dupont, commonly called Trestaillon. To save the effusion of blood, this garrison of about 500 men consented to capitulate, and marched out sad and defenceless; but when about fifty had passed, the rabble commenced a tremendous fire on their confiding and unprotected victims; nearly all were killed or wounded, and but very few could re-enter the yard before the garrison gates were again closed. These were again forced in an instant, and all were massacred who could not climb over roofs, or leap into the adjoining gardens. In a word, death met them in every place and in every shape and this catholic massacre rivalled in cruelty, and surpassed in treachery, the crimes of the September assassins of Paris and the Jacobinical butcheries of Lyons and Avignon. It was marked, not only by the fervour of the revolution, but by the subtlety of the league, and will long remain a blot upon the history of the second restoration.

Massacre and Pillage at Nismes.

Nismes now exhibited a most awful scene of outrage and carnage, though many of the protestants had fled to the Convennes and the Gardonenque. The country houses of Messrs. Rey, Guiret, and several others, had been pillaged, and the inhabitants treated with wanton barbarity. Two parties had glutted their savage appetites on the farm of Madame Frat: the first, after eating, drinking, and breaking the furniture, and stealing what they thought proper, took leave by announcing the arrival of their comrades, "compared with whom," they said, "they should be thought merciful." Three men and an old woman were left on the premises: at the sight of the second company two of the men fled. "Are you a catholic?" said the banditti to the old woman. "Yes." "Repeat, then, your Pater and Ave." Being terrified she hesitated, and was instantly knocked down with a musket. On recovering her senses, she stole out of the house, but met Ladet, the old valet de ferme, bringing in a salad which the depredators had ordered him to cut. In vain she endeavoured to persuade him to fly. "Are you a protestant?" they exclaimed; "I am." A musket being discharged at him, he fell wounded, but not dead. To consummate their work, the monsters lighted a fire with straw and boards, threw their yet living victim into the flames, and suffered him to expire in the most dreadful agonies. They then ate their salad, omelet, &c. The next day, some labourers, seeing the house open and deserted, entered and discovered the half consumed body of Ladet. The prefect of the Gard, M. Darbaud Jouques, attempting to palliate the crimes of the catholics, had the audacity to assert that Ladet was a catholic; but this was publicly contradicted by two of the pastors at Nismes.

Another party committed a dreadful murder at St. Cezaire, upon Imbert la Plume, the husband of Suzon Chivas. He was met on returning from work in the fields. The chief promised him his life, but insisted that he must be conducted to the prison at Nismes. Seeing, however, that the party was determined to kill him, he resumed his natural character, and being a powerful and courageous man advanced and exclaimed, "You are brigands--fire!" Four of them fired, and he fell, but he was not dead; and while living they mutilated his body and then passing a cord round it, drew it along, attached to a cannon of which they had possession. It was not till after eight days that his relatives were apprized of his death. Five individuals of the family of Chivas, all husbands and fathers, were massacred in the course of a few days.

Near the barracks at Nismes is a large and handsome house, the property of M. Vitte, which he acquired by exertion and economy. Besides comfortable lodgings for his own family, he let more than twenty chambers, mostly occupied by superior officers and commissaries of the army. He never inquired the opinion of his tenants, and of course his guests were persons of all political parties; but, under pretence of searching for concealed officers, his apartments were overrun, his furniture broken, and his property carried off at pleasure. The houses of Messrs. Lagorce, most respectable merchants and manufacturers M. Matthieu, M. Negre, and others, shared the same fate: many only avoided by the owners paying large sums as commutation money, or escaping into the country with their cash.

Interference of Government against the Protestants.

M. Bernis, extraordinary royal commissioner, in consequence of these abuses, issued a proclamation which reflects disgrace on the authority from whence it emanated. "Considering," it said, "that the residence of citizens in places foreign to their domicile, can only be prejudicial to the communes they have left, and to those to which they have repaired, it is ordered, that those inhabitants who have quitted their residence since the commandment of July, return home by the 28th at the latest, otherwise they shall be deemed accomplices of the evil-disposed persons who disturb the public tranquility, and their property shall be placed under provisional sequestration."

The fugitives had sufficient inducements to return to their hearths, without the fear of sequestration. They were more anxious to embrace their fathers, mothers, wives, and children, and to resume their ordinary occupations, than M. Bernis could be to insure their return. But thus denouncing men as criminals who fled for safety from the sabres of assassins, was adding oil to the fire of persecution. Trestaillon, one of the chiefs of the brigands, was dressed in complete uniform and epaulettes which he had stolen; he wore a sabre at his side, pistols in his belt, a cockade of white and green, and a sash of the same colours on his arm. He had under him, Truphemy, Servan, Aime, and many other desperate characters. Some time after this M. Bernis ordered all parties and individuals, armed or unarmed, to abstain from searching houses, without either an order, or the presence of an officer. On suspicion of arms being concealed, the commandant of the town was ordered to furnish a patrol to make search and seizure; and all persons carrying arms in the streets, without being on service, were to be arrested. Trestaillon, however, who still carried arms, was not arrested till some months after, and then not by these authorities, but by General La Garde, who was afterwards assassinated by one of his comrades. On this occasion it was remarked, that "the system of specious and deceptive proclamations was perfectly understood, and had long been practised in Languedoc; it was not too late to persecute the protestants simply for their religion. Even in the good times of Louis XIV. there was public opinion enough in Europe to make that arch tyrant have recourse to the meanest stratagems." The following single specimen of the plan pursued by the authors of the Dragonades may serve as a key to all the plausible proclamations which, in 1815, covered the perpetration of the most deliberate and extensive crimes:--

Letters from Louvois to Marillac.

"The king rejoices to learn from your letters, that there are so many conversions in your department; and he desires that you would continue your efforts, and employ the same means that have been hitherto so successful. His majesty has ordered me to send a regiment of cavalry, the greatest part of which he wishes to be quartered upon the protestants, but he does not think it prudent that they should be all lodged with them; that is to say, of twenty-six masters, of which a company is composed, if, by a judicious distribution, ten ought to be received by the protestants, give them twenty, and put them all on the rich, making this pretence, that when there are not soldiers enough in a town for all to have some, the poor ought to be exempt, and the rich burdened. His majesty has also thought proper to order, that all converts be exempted from lodging soldiers for two years. This will occasion numerous conversions if you take care that it is rigorously executed, and that in all the distributions and passage of troops, by far the greatest number are quartered on the rich protestants. His majesty particularly enjoins that your orders on this subject, either by yourself or your sub-delegates, be given by word of mouth to the mayors and sheriffs, without letting them know that his majesty intends by these means to force to become converts, and only explaining to them, that you give these orders on the information you have received, that in these places the rich are excepted by their influence, to the prejudice of the poor."

The merciless treatment of the women, in this persecution at Nismes, was such as would have disgraced any savages ever heard of. The widows Rivet and Bernard, were forced to sacrifice enormous sums; and the house of Mrs. Lecointe was ravaged, and her goods destroyed. Mrs. F. Didier had her dwelling sacked and nearly demolished to the foundation. A party of these bigots visited the widow Perrin, who lived on a little farm at the windmills; having committed every species of devastation, they attacked even the sanctuary of the dead, which contained the relics of her family. They dragged the coffins out, and scattered the contents over the adjacent grounds. In vain this outraged widow collected the bones of her ancestors and replaced them: they were again dug up; and, after several useless efforts, they were reluctantly left spread over the surface of the fields.

Till the period announced for the sequestration of the property of the fugitives by authority, murder and plunder were the daily employment of what was called the army of Beaucaire, and the catholics of Nismes. M. Peyron, of Brossan, had all his property carried off; his wine, oil, seed, grain, several score of sheep, eight mules, three carts, his furniture and effects, all the cash that could be found and he had only to congratulate himself that his habitation was not consumed, and his vineyards rooted up. A similar process against several other protestant farmers, was also regularly carried on during several days. Many of the protestants thus persecuted were well known as staunch royalists; but it was enough for their enemies to know that they belonged to the reformed communion; these fanatics were determined not to find either royalists or citizens worthy the common protection of society. To accuse, condemn, and destroy a protestant, was a matter that required no hesitation. The house of M. Vitte, near the barracks at Nismes, was broken open, and every thing within the walls demolished. A Jew family of lodgers was driven out, and all their goods thrown out of the windows. M. Vitte was seized, robbed of his watch and money, severely wounded, and left for dead. After he had been fourteen hours in a state of insensibility, a commissary of police, touched by his misfortunes, administered some cordials to revive him; and, as a measure of safety, conducted him to the citadel, where he remained many days, whilst his family lamented him as dead. At length, as there was not the slightest charge against him, he obtained his liberation from M. Vidal; but when the Austrians arrived, one of the aids-de-camp, who heard of his sufferings and his respectability, sought him out, and furnished an escort to conduct his family to a place of safety. Dalbos, the only city beadle who was a protestant, was dragged from his home and led to prison. His niece threw herself on the neck of one of them and begged for mercy; the ruffian dashed her to the ground. His sister was driven away by the mob; and he being shot, his body remained a long time exposed to the insults of the rabble.

Royal Decree in favour of the Persecuted.

At length the decree of Louis XVIII., which annulled all the extraordinary powers conferred either by the king, the princes, or subordinate agents, was received at Nismes, and the laws were now to be administered by the regular organs, and a new prefect arrived to carry them into effect; but in spite of proclamations, the work of destruction, stopped for a moment, was not abandoned, but soon renewed with fresh vigour and effect. On the 30th of July, Jacques Combe, the father of a family, was killed by some of the national guards of Rusau, and the crime was so public, that the commander of the party restored to the family the pocket-book and papers of the deceased. On the following day tumultuous crowds roamed about the city and suburbs, threatening the wretched peasants; and on the 1st of August they butchered them without opposition. About noon on the same day, six armed men, headed by Truphemy, the butcher, surrounded the house of Monot, a carpenter; two of the party, who were smiths, had been at work in the house the day before, and had seen a protestant who had taken refuge there, M. Bourillon, who had been a lieutenant in the army, and had retired on a pension. He was a man of an excellent character, peaceable and harmless, and had never served the emperor Napoleon. Truphemy not knowing him, he was pointed out partaking of a frugal breakfast with the family. Truphemy ordered him to go along with him, adding, "Your friend, Saussine, is already in the other world." Truphemy placed him in the middle of his troop, and artfully ordered him to cry Vive l'Empereur: he refused, adding, he had never served the emperor. In vain did the women and children of the house intercede for his life, and praise his amiable and virtuous qualities. He was marched to the Esplanade and shot, first by Truphemy and then by the others. Several persons attracted by the firing, approached, but were threatened with a similar fate. After some time the wretches departed, shouting Vive le Roi. Some women met them, and one of them appeared affected, said one, "I have killed seven to-day, for my share and if you say a word, you shall be the eighth." Pierre Courbet, a stocking weaver, was torn from his loom by an armed band, and shot at his own door. His eldest daughter was knocked down with the butt end of a musket; and a poignard was held at the breast of his wife while the mob plundered her apartments. Paul Heraut, a silk weaver, was literally cut in pieces, in the presence of a large crowd, and amidst the unavailing cries and tears of his wife and four young children. The murderers only abandoned the corpse to return to Heraut's house and secure every thing valuable. The number of murders on this day could not be ascertained. One person saw six bodies at the Cours Neuf, and nine were carried to the hospital.

If murder some time after, became less frequent for a few days, pillage and forced contributions were actively enforced. M. Salle d'Hombro, at several visits was robbed of 7000 francs; and on one occasion, when he pleaded the sacrifices he had made, "Look," said a bandit, pointing to his pipe, "this will set fire to your house; and this," brandishing his sword, "will finish you." No reply could be made to these arguments. M. Feline, a silk manufacturer, was robbed of 32,000 francs in gold, 3000 francs in silver, and several bales of silk.

The small shopkeepers were continually exposed to visits and demands of provisions, drapery, or whatever they sold; and the same hands that set fire to the houses of the rich, and tore up the vines of the cultivator, broke the looms of the weaver, and stole the tools of the artizan. Desolation reigned in the sanctuary and in the city. The armed bands, instead of being reduced, were increased; the fugitives, instead of returning received constant accessions, and their friends who sheltered them were deemed rebellious. Those protestants who remained, were deprived of all their civil and religious rights, and even the advocates and huissiers entered into a resolution to exclude all of "the pretended reformed religion" from their bodies. Those who were employed in selling tobacco were deprived of their licenses. The protestant deacons who had the charge of the poor were all scattered. Of five pastors only two remained; one of these was obliged to change his residence, and could only venture to administer the consolations of religion, or perform the functions of his ministry, under cover of the night.

Not content with these modes of torment, calumnious and inflamatory publications charged the protestants with raising the proscribed standard in the communes, and invoking the fallen Napoleon; and, of course, as unworthy the protection of the laws and the favour of the monarch.

Hundreds after this were dragged to prison without even so much as a written order; and though an official newspaper, bearing the title of the Journal du Gard, was set up for five months, while it was influenced by the prefect, the mayor, and other functionaries, the word charter was never once used in it. One of the first numbers, on the contrary, represented the suffering protestants as "Crocodiles only weeping from rage and regret that they had no more victims to devour; as persons who had surpassed Danton, Marat, and Robespierre, in doing mischief: and as having prostituted their daughters to the garrison to gain it over to Napoleon." An extract from this article, stamped with the crown and the arms of the Bourbons, was hawked about the streets, and the vender was adorned with the medal of the police.

Petition of the Protestant Refugees.

To these reproaches it is proper to oppose the petition which the Protestant Refugees in Paris presented to Louis XVIII. in behalf of their brethren at Nismes.

"We lay at your feet, sire, our acute sufferings. In your name our fellow-citizens are slaughtered, and their property laid waste. Misled peasants, in pretended obedience to your orders, had assembled at the command of a commissioner appointed by your august nephew. Although ready to attack us, they were received with the assurances of peace. On the 15th of July, 1815, we learnt your majesty's entrance into Paris, and the white flag immediately waved on our edifices. The public tranquility had not been disturbed, when armed peasants introduced themselves. The garrison capitulated, but were assailed on their departure, and almost totally massacred. Our national guard was disarmed, the city filled with strangers, and the houses of the principal inhabitants, professing the reformed religion, were attacked and plundered. We subjoin the list. Terror has driven from our city the most respectable inhabitants.

"Your majesty has been deceived if there has not been placed before you the picture of the horrors which make a desert of your good city of Nismes. Arrests and proscriptions are continually taking place, and difference of religious opinions is the real and only cause. The calumniated protestants are the defenders of the throne. Your nephew has beheld our children under his banners; our fortunes have been placed in his hands. Attacked without reason, the protestants have not, even by a just resistance, afforded their enemies the fatal pretext for calumny. Save us, sire! extinguish the brand of civil war; a single act of your will would restore to political existence a city interesting for its population and its manufactures. Demand an account of their conduct from the chiefs who have brought our misfortunes upon us. We place before your eyes all the documents that have reached us. Fear paralizes the hearts, and stifles the complaints of our fellow-citizens. Placed in a more secure situation, we venture to raise our voice in their behalf," &c. &c.

Monstrous outrage upon Females.

At Nismes it is well known that the women wash their clothes either at the fountains, or on the banks of streams. There is a large basin near the fountain, where numbers of women may be seen every day, kneeling at the edge of the water, and beating the clothes with heavy pieces of wood in the shape of battledoors. This spot became the scene of the most shameful and indecent practices. The catholic rabble turned the women's petticoats over their heads, and so fastened them as to continue their exposure, and their subjection to a newly invented species of chastisement; for nails being placed in the wood of the battoirs in the form of fleur-de-lis, they beat them till the blood streamed from their bodies, and their cries rent the air. Often was death demanded as a commutation of this ignominious punishment, but refused with a malignant joy. To carry their outrage to the highest possible degree, several who were in a state of pregnancy were assailed in this manner. The scandalous nature of these outrages prevented many of the sufferers from making them public, and, especially, from relating the most aggravating circumstances. "I have seen," says M. Durand, "a catholic avocat, accompanying the assassins in the fauxbourg Bourgade, arm a battoir with sharp nails in the form of fleur-de-lis; I have seen them raise the garments of females, and apply, with heavy blows, to the bleeding body this battoir or battledoor, to which they gave a name which my pen refuses to record. The cries of the sufferers--the streams of blood--the murmurs of indignation which were suppressed by fear--nothing could move them. The surgeons who attended on those women who are dead, can attest, by the marks of their wounds, the agonies which they must have endured, which, however horrible, is most strictly true."

Nevertheless, during the progress of these horrors and obscenities, so disgraceful to France and the catholic religion, the agents of government had a powerful force under their command, and by honestly employing it they might have restored tranquility. Murder and robbery, however, continued, and were winked at, by the catholic magistrates, with very few exceptions; the administrative authorities, it is true, used words in their proclamations, &c. but never had recourse to actions to stop the enormities of the persecutors, who boldly declared that, on the 24th, the anniversary of St. Bartholomew, they intended to make a general massacre. The members of the reformed church were filled with terror, and, instead of taking part in the election of deputies, were occupied as well as they could in providing for their own personal safety.

Arrival of the Austrians at Nismes.

About this time, a treaty between the French court and the allied sovereigns, prohibited the advance of the foreign troops beyond the line of territory already occupied, and traced by the course of the Loire, and by the Rhone, below the Ardeche. In violation of this treaty, 4000 Austrians entered Nismes on the 24th of August; under pretence of making room for them, French troops, bearing the feudal title of Royal Chasseurs, followed by the murdering bands of the Trestaillons and Quatretaillons, who continued their march to Alais, where a fair was to be held, and carried disorder and alarm into all the communes on that route. Nothing now was heard but denunciations of fusillading, burning, razing, and annihilating; and while the catholics were feasting and murdering at Nismes, the flames of the country houses of the protestants, rising one hundred feet in the air, rendered the spectacle still more awful and alarming. Unfortunately, some of the peasants, falsely charged with the murder of two protestants, were brought to Nismes while the prefect was celebrating the fete of St. Louis. At a splendid dinner given to the Austrian commanders, and even without quitting the table, it appears, that the French prefect placed the fate and fortune of these unfortunate prisoners at the disposal of Count Stahremberg, who, of course, believing the representations made to him ordered the accused to be immediately shot. To mortify and exhaust the protestant communes, the Austrians were directed to occupy them, where they completely disarmed the inhabitants without the least opposition. In fact, these foreigners were soon undeceived. They expected to meet the most perfidious and brutal enemies in arms, and in open rebellion against their king; but, on the contrary, they found them all in peace, and experienced the most kind and respectful treatment; and though their duty was a most vexatious and oppressive one, they performed it in general with moderation. On this account they could not refrain from expressing their astonishment at the reports made to them by the authorities at Nismes, declaring, "They had found a population suffering great misfortunes, but no rebels; and that compassion was the only feeling that prevailed in their minds." The commander himself was so convinced of the good disposition of the people of the Cevennes, that he visited those districts without an escort, desiring, he said, to travel in that country as he would in his own. Such confidence was a public reproach on the authorities at Nismes, and a sentence of condemnation on all their proceedings.

As the persecution of the protestants was spreading into other departments, strong and forcible representations were secretly printed and made to the king. All the ordinary modes of communication had been stopped; the secrecy of letters violated, and none circulated but those relative to private affairs. Sometimes these letters bore the postmark of places very distant, and arrived without signatures, and enveloped in allegorical allusions. In fact, a powerful resistance on the part of the outraged protestants was at length apprehended, which, in the beginning of September excited the proclamation of the king, on which it was observed, "that if his majesty had been correctly and fully informed of all that had taken place, he surely would not have contented himself with announcing his severe displeasure to a misled people, who took justice into their own hands, and avenged the crimes committed against royalty." The proclamation was dictated as though there had not been a protestant in the department; it assumed and affirmed throughout the guilt of the sufferers; and while it deplored the atrocious outrages endured by the followers of the duke d'Angouleme, (outrages which never existed,) the plunder and massacre of the reformed were not even noticed.

Still disorders kept pace with the proclamations that made a show of suppressing them, and the force of the catholic faction also continued to increase. The catholic populace, notwithstanding the decrees of the magistrates, were allowed to retain the arms they had illegally seized, whilst the protestants in the departments were disarmed. The members of the reformed churches wished at this period to present another memorial to the government, descriptive of the evils they still suffered, but this was not practicable. On the 26th of September, the president of the consistory wrote as follows: "I have only been able to assemble two or three members of the consistory pastors or elders. It is impossible to draw up a memoir, or to collect facts; so great is the terror, that every one is afraid to speak of his own sufferings, or to mention those he has been compelled to witness."

Outrages committed in the Villages, &c.

We now quit Nismes to take a view of the conduct of the persecutors in the surrounding country. After the re-establishment of the royal government, the local authorities were distinguished for their zeal and forwardness in supporting their employers, and, under pretence of rebellion, concealment of arms, non-payment of contributions, &c. troops, national guards, and armed mobs, were permitted to plunder, arrest, and murder peaceable citizens, not merely with impunity, but with encouragement and approbation. At the village of Milhaud, near Nismes, the inhabitants were frequently forced to pay large sums to avoid being pillaged. This, however, would not avail at Madame Teulon's: On Sunday, the 16th of July, her house and grounds were ravaged; the valuable furniture removed or destroyed, the hay and wood burnt, and the corpse of a child, buried in the garden, taken up and dragged round a fire made by the populace. It was with great difficulty that M. Teulon escaped with his life. M. Picherol, another protestant, had deposited some of his effects with a catholic neighbour; this house was attacked, and though all the property of the latter was respected, that of his friend was seized and destroyed. At the same village, one of a party doubting whether M. Hermet, a tailor, was the man they wanted, asked, "Is he a protestant?" this he acknowledged. "Good," said they, and he was instantly murdered. In the Canton of Vauvert, where there was a consistory church, 80,000 francs were extorted. In the communes of Beauvoisin and Generac similar excesses were committed by a handful of licentious men, under the eye of the catholic mayor and to the cries of "Vive le Roi." St. Gilles was the scene of the must unblushing villainy. The protestants, the most wealthy of the inhabitants, were disarmed, whilst their houses were pillaged. The mayor was appealed to:--the mayor laughed and walked away. This officer had, at his disposal, a national guard of several hundred men, organised by his own orders. It would be wearisome to read the lists of the crimes that occurred during many months. At Clavisson the mayor prohibited the protestants the practice of singing the psalms commonly used in the temple, that, as he said, the catholics might not be offended or disturbed.

At Sommieres, about ten miles from Nismes, the catholics made a splendid procession through the town, which continued till evening and was succeeded by the plunder of the protestants. On the arrival of foreign troops at Sommieres, the pretended search for arms was resumed; those who did not possess muskets were even compelled to buy them on purpose to surrender them up, and soldiers were quartered on them at six francs per day till they produced the articles in demand. The protestant church which had been closed, was converted into barracks for the Austrians. After divine service had been suspended for six months at Nismes, the church, by the protestants called the Temple, was re-opened, and public worship performed on the morning of the 24th of December. On examining the belfry, it was discovered that some persons had carried off the clapper of the bell. As the hour of service approached, a number of men, women, and children, collected at the house of M. Ribot, the pastor, and threatened to prevent the worship. At the appointed time, when he proceeded towards the church, he was surrounded; the most savage shouts were raised against him; some of the women seized him by the collar; but nothing could disturb his firmness, or excite his impatience: he entered the house of prayer, and ascended the pulpit; stones were thrown in and fell among the worshippers; still the congregation remained calm and attentive, and the service was concluded amidst noise, threats, and outrage. On retiring many would have been killed but for the chasseurs of the garrison, who honourably and zealously protected them. From the captain of these chasseurs, M. Ribot soon after received the following letter.

"January 2, 1816.

"I deeply lament the prejudices of the catholics against the protestants, who they pretend do not love the king. Continue to act as you have hitherto done, and time and your conduct will convince the catholics to the contrary: should any tumult occur similar to that of Saturday last inform me. I preserve my reports of these acts, and if the agitators prove incorrigible, and forget what they owe to the best of kings and the charter, I will do my duty and inform the government of their proceedings. Adieu, my dear sir; assure the consistory of my esteem, and of the sense I entertain of the moderation with which they have met the provocations of the evil-disposed at Sommieres. I have the honor to salute you with respect.

SUVAL DE LAINE."

Another letter to this worthy pastor from the Marquis de Montlord, was received on the 6th of January, to encourage him to unite with all good men who believe in God to obtain the punishment of the assassins, brigands, and disturbers of public tranquility, and to read the instructions he had received from government to this effect publicly. Notwithstanding this, on the 20th of January, 1816, when the service in commemoration of the death of Louis XVI. was celebrated, a procession being formed, the National Guards fired at the white flag suspended from the windows of the protestants, and concluded the day by plundering their houses. In the Commune of Angargues, matters were still worse; and in that of Fontanes, from the entry of the king in 1815, the catholics broke all terms with the protestants; by day they insulted them, and in the night broke open their doors, or marked them with chalk to be plundered or burnt. St. Mamert was repeatedly visited by these robberies; and at Montmiral, as lately as the 16th of June, 1816, the protestants were attacked, beaten, and imprisoned, for daring to celebrate the return of a king who had sworn to preserve religious liberty and to maintain the charter. In fact, to continue the relation of the scenes that took place in the different departments of the south of France, would be little better than a repetition of those we have already described, excepting a change of names: but the most sanguinary of all seems that which was perpetrated at Uzes, at the latter end of August, and the burning of several protestants places of worship. These shameful persecutions continued till after the dissolution of the Chamber of Deputies at the close of the year 1816. After a review of these anti-protestant proceedings, the British reader will not think of comparing them with the riots of London in 1780, or with those of Birmingham about 1793; as it is evident that where governments possess absolute power, such events could not have been prolonged for many months and even for years over a vast extent of country, had it not been for the systematic and powerful support of the higher department of the state.

Farther account of the proceedings of the Catholics at Nismes.

The excesses perpetrated in the country it seems did not by any means divert the attention of the persecutors from Nismes. October, 1815, commenced without any improvement in the principles or measures of the government, and this was followed by corresponding presumption on the part of the people. Several houses in the Quartier St. Charles were sacked, and their wrecks burnt in the streets amidst songs, dances, and shouts of Vive le Roi. The mayor appeared, but the merry multitude pretended not to know him, and when he ventured to remonstrate, they told him, "his presence was unnecessary, and that he might retire." During the 16th of October, every preparation seemed to announce a night of carnage; orders for assembling and signals for attack were circulated with regularity and confidence; Trestaillon reviewed his satellites, and urged them on to the perpetration of crimes, holding with one of those wretches the following dialogue:

Satellite. "If all the protestants, without one exception, are to be killed, I will cheerfully join; but as you have so often deceived me, unless they are all to go I will not stir."

Trestaillon. "Come along, then, for this time not a single man shall escape." This horrid purpose would have been executed had it not been for General La Garde, the commandant of the department. It was not till ten o'clock at night that he perceived the danger; he now felt that not a moment could be lost. Crowds were advancing through the suburbs, and the streets were filling with ruffians, uttering the most horrid imprecations. The generale sounded at eleven o'clock, and added to the confusion that was now spreading through the city. A few troops rallied round the Count La Garde, who was wrung with distress at the sight of the evil which had arrived at such a pitch. Of this M. Durand, a catholic advocate, gave the following account:

"It was near midnight, my wife had just fallen asleep; I was writing by her side, when we were disturbed by a distant noise; drums seemed crossing the town in every direction. What could all this mean! To quiet her alarm, I said it probably announced the arrival or departure of some troops of the garrison. But firing and shouts were immediately audible; and on opening my window I distinguished horrible imprecations mingled with cries of vive le Roi! I roused an officer who lodged in the house, and M. Chancel, Director of the Public Works. We went out together, and gained the Boulevarde. The moon shone bright, and almost every object was nearly as distinct as day; a furious crowd was pressing on vowing extermination, and the greater part half naked, armed with knives, muskets, sticks, and sabres. In answer to my inquiries I was told the massacre was general, that many had been already killed in the suburbs. M. Chancel retired to put on his uniform as captain of the Pompiers; the officers retired to the barracks, and anxious for my wife I returned home. By the noise I was convinced that persons followed. I crept along in the shadow of the wall, opened my door, entered, and closed it, leaving a small aperture through which I could watch the movements of the party whose arms shone in the moonlight. In a few moments some armed men appeared conducting a prisoner to the very spot where I was concealed. They stopped, I shut my door gently, and mounted on an alder tree planted against the garden wall. What a scene! a man on his knees imploring mercy from wretches who mocked his agony, and loaded him with abuse. In the name of my wife and children, he said, spare me! What have I done? Why would you murder me for nothing? I was on the point of crying out and menacing the murderers with vengeance. I had not long to deliberate, the discharge of several fusils terminated my suspense; the unhappy supplicant, struck in the loins and the head, fell to rise no more. The backs of the assassins were towards the tree; they retired immediately, reloading their pieces. I descended and approached the dying man, uttering some deep and dismal groans. Some National Guards arrived at the moment, I again retired and shut the door. "I see," said one, "a dead man." "He sings still," said another. "It will be better," said a third, "to finish him and put him out of his misery." Five or six muskets were fired instantly, and the groans ceased. On the following day crowds came to inspect and insult the deceased. A day after a massacre was always observed as a sort of fete, and every occupation was left to go and gaze upon the victims. This was Louis Lichare, the father of four children; and four years after the event, M. Durand verified this account by his oath upon the trial of one of the murderers."

Attack upon the Protestant Churches.

Some time before the death of general La Garde, the duke d'Angouleme had visited Nismes, and other cities in the south, and at the former place honoured the members of the protestant consistory with an interview, promising them protection, and encouraging them to reopen their temple so long shut up. They have two churches at Nismes, and it was agreed that the small one should be preferred on this occasion, and that the ringing of the bell should be omitted, general La Garde declared that he would answer with his head for the safety of his congregation. The protestants privately informed each other that worship was once more to be celebrated at ten o'clock, and they began to assemble silently and cautiously. It was agreed that M. Juillerat Chasseur should perform the service, though such was his conviction of danger that he entreated his wife, and some of his flock, to remain with their families. The temple being opened only as a matter of form, and in compliance with the orders of the duke d'Angouleme, this pastor wished to be the only victim. On his way to the place he passed numerous groupes who regarded him with ferocious looks. "This is the time," said some, "to give them the last blow." "Yes," added others, "and neither women nor children must be spared." One wretch, raising his voice above the rest, exclaimed, "Ah, I will go and get my musket, and ten for my share." Through these ominous sounds M. Juillerat pursued his course, but when he gained the temple the sexton had not the courage to open the door, and he was obliged to do it himself. As the worshippers arrived they found strange persons in possession of the adjacent streets, and upon the steps of the church, vowing their worship should not be performed, and crying, "Down with the protestants! kill them! kill them!" At ten o'clock the church being nearly filled, M. J. Chasseur commenced the prayers; a calm that succeeded was of short duration. On a sudden the minister was interrupted by a violent noise, and a number of persons entered, uttering the most dreadful cries, mingled with Vive le Roi! but the gens-d'armes succeeded in excluding these fanatics, and closing the doors. The noise and tumult without now redoubled, and the blows of the populace trying to break open the doors, caused the house to resound with shrieks and groans. The voice of the pastors who endeavoured to console their flock, was inaudible; they attempted in vain to sing the 42d psalm.

Three quarters of an hour rolled heavily away. "I placed myself," says Madame Juillerat, "at the bottom of the pulpit, with my daughter in my arms; my husband at length joined and sustained me; I remembered that it was the anniversary of my marriage; after six years of happiness, I said, I am about to die with my husband and my daughter; we shall be slain at the altar of our God, the victims of a sacred duty, and heaven will open to receive us and our unhappy brethren. I blessed the Redeemer, and without cursing our murderers, I awaited their approach."

M. Oliver, son of a pastor, an officer in the royal troops of the line, attempted to leave the church, but the friendly sentinels at the door advised him to remain besieged with the rest. The national guards refused to act, and the fanatical crowd took every advantage of the absence of general La Garde, and of their increasing numbers. At length the sound of martial music was heard, and voices from without called to the besieged, "Open, open and save yourselves." Their first impression was a fear of treachery, but they were soon assured that a detachment returning from mass was drawn up in front of the church to favour the retreat of the protestants. The door was opened, and many of them escaped among the ranks of the soldiers, who had driven the mob before them; but this street, as well as others through which the fugitives had to pass, was soon filled again. The venerable pastor, Olivier Desmond, between 70 and 80 years of age, was surrounded by murderers; they put their fists in his face, and cried, "Kill the chief of brigands." He was preserved by the firmness of some officers, among whom was his own son; they made a bulwark round him with their bodies, and amidst their naked sabres conducted him to his house. M. Juillerat, who had assisted at divine service with his wife at his side and his child in his arms, was pursued and assailed with stones, his mother received a blow on the head, and her life was some time in danger. One woman was shamefully whipped, and several wounded and dragged along the streets; the number of protestants more or less ill treated on this occasion amounted to between seventy and eighty.

Murder of General La Garde.

At length a check was put to these excesses by the report of the murder of Count La Garde, who, receiving an account of this tumult, mounted his horse, and entered one of the streets, to disperse a crowd. A villain seized his bridle; another presented the muzzle of a pistol close to his body, and exclaimed, "Wretch, you make me retire!" He immediately fired. The murderer was Louis Boissin, a serjeant in the national guard; but, though known to every one, no person endeavoured to arrest him, and he effected his escape. As soon as the general found himself wounded, he gave orders to the gendarmerie to protect the protestants, and set off on a gallop to his hotel; but fainted immediately on his arrival. On recovering, he prevented the surgeon from searching his wound till he had written a letter to the government, that, in case of his death, it might be known from what quarter the blow came, and that none might dare to accuse the protestants of this crime. The probable death of this general produced a small degree of relaxation on the part of their enemies, and some calm; but the mass of the people had been indulged in licentiousness too long to be restrained even by the murder of the representative of their king. In the evening they again repaired to the temple, and with hatchets broke open the door; the dismal noise of their blows carried terror into the bosom of the protestant families sitting in their houses in tears. The contents of the poor's box, and the clothes prepared for distribution, were stolen; the minister's robes rent in pieces; the books torn up or carried away; the closets were ransacked, but the rooms which contained the archives of the church, and the synods, was providentially secured; and had it not been for the numerous patrols on foot, the whole would have become the prey of the flames, and the edifice itself a heap of ruins. In the mean while, the fanatics openly ascribed the murder of the general to his own self-devotion, and said "that it was the will of God." Three thousand francs were offered for the apprehension of Boissin; but it was well known that the protestants dared not arrest him, and that the fanatics would not. During these transactions, the systems of forced conversions to catholicism was making regular and fearful progress.

Interference of the British Government.

To the credit of England, the reports of these cruel persecutions carried on against our protestant brethren in France, produced such a sensation on the part of the government as determined them to interfere; and now the persecutors of the protestants made this spontaneous act of humanity and religion the pretext for charging the sufferers with a treasonable correspondence with England; but in this state of their proceedings, to their great dismay, a letter appeared, sent some time before to England by the duke of Wellington, stating "that much information existed on the events of the south."

The ministers of the three denominations in London, anxious not to be misled, requested one of their brethren to visit the scenes of persecution, and examine with impartiality the nature and extent of the evils they were desirous to relieve. The Rev. Clement Perot undertook this difficult task, and fulfilled their wishes with a zeal, prudence, and devotedness, above all praise. His return furnished abundant and incontestible proof of a shameful persecution, materials for an appeal to the British Parliament, and a printed report which was circulated through the continent, and which first conveyed correct information to the inhabitants of France.

Foreign interference was now found eminently useful; and the declarations of tolerance which it elicited from the French government, as well as the more cautious march of the catholic persecutors, operated as decisive and involuntary acknowledgments of the importance of that interference, which some persons at first censured and despised but though the stern voice of public opinion in England and elsewhere produced a reluctant suspension of massacre and pillage, the murderers and plunderers were still left unpunished, and even caressed and rewarded for their crimes; and whilst protestants in France suffered the most cruel and degrading pains and penalties for alleged trifling crimes, catholics, covered with blood, and guilty of numerous and horrid murders, were acquitted.

Perhaps the virtuous indignation expressed by some of the more enlightened catholics against these abominable proceedings, had no small share in restraining them. Many innocent protestants had been condemned to the galleys and otherwise punished, for supposed crimes, upon the oaths of wretches the most unprincipled and abandoned. M. Madier de Montgau, judge of the cour royale of Nismes, and president of the cour d'assizes of the Gard and Vaucluse, upon one occasion felt himself compelled to break up the court, rather than take the deposition of that notorious and sanguinary monster Truphemy: "In a hall," says he, "of the Palace of Justice, opposite that in which I sat, several unfortunate persons persecuted by the faction were upon trial, every deposition tending to their crimination was applauded with the cries of 'Vive le Roi.' Three times the explosion of this atrocious joy became so terrible, that it was necessary to send for reinforcements from the barracks, and two hundred soldiers were often unable to restrain the people. On a sudden the shouts and cries of 'Vive le Roi' redoubled: a man arrives, caressed, applauded, borne in triumph--it is the horrible Truphemy; he approaches the tribunal--he comes to depose against the prisoners--he is admitted as a witness--he raises his hand to take the oath! Seized with horror at the sight, I rush from my seat, and enter the hall of council; my colleagues follow me; in vain they persuade me to resume my seat; 'No!' exclaimed I, 'I will not consent to see that wretch admitted to give evidence in a court of justice in the city which he has filled with murders; in the palace, on the steps of which he has murdered the unfortunate Bourillon. I cannot admit that he should kill his victims by his testimonies no more than by his poignards. He an accuser! he a witness! No, never will I consent to see this monster rise, in the presence of magistrates, to take a sacrilegious oath, his hand still reeking with blood.' These words were repeated out of doors; the witness trembled; the factious also trembled; the factious who guided the tongue of Truphemy as they had directed his arm, who dictated calumny after they had taught him murder. These words penetrated the dungeons of the condemned, and inspired hope; they gave another courageous advocate the resolution to espouse the cause of the persecuted; he carried the prayers of innocence and misery to the foot of the throne; there he asked if the evidence of a Truphemy was not sufficient to annul a sentence. The king granted a full and free pardon."

Perjury in the case of General Gilly, &c.

This catholic system of subornation and perjury was carried to such an infamous degree, that twenty-six witnesses were found to sign and swear, that on the 3d of April, 1815, general Gilly, with his own hand and before their eyes, took down the white flag at Nismes; though it was proved that at the time when the tri-coloured flag was raised in its room, the general was fifteen leagues from Nismes, and that he did not arrive there till three days after that event. Before tribunals thus constructed, even innocence had not the least chance for protection. General Gilly knew better than to appear before them, and was condemned to death for contempt of court. But when he left Nismes, he thought either of passing into a foreign country, or of joining the army of the Loire; and it was long supposed that he had actually escaped. As it was impossible to gain any point, or find any security, his only hope was in concealment, and a friend found him an asylum in the cottage of a peasant; but that peasant was a protestant, and the general was a catholic: however, he did not hesitate; he confided in this poor man's honour. This cottage was in the canton of Anduze; the name of its keeper, Perrier; he welcomed the fugitive, and did not even ask his name: it was a time of proscription, and his host would know nothing of him, it was enough that he was unfortunate, and in danger. He was disguised and he passed for Perrier's cousin. The general is naturally amiable, and he made himself agreeable, sat by the fire, ate potatoes, and contented himself with miserable fare. Though subject to frequent and many painful alarms, he preserved his retreat several months, and often heard the visiters of his host boast of the concealment of general Gilly, or of being acquainted with the place of his retreat. Patrols were continually searching for arms in the houses of protestants; and often in the night the general was obliged to leave his mattress, half naked, and hide himself in the fields. Perrier, to avoid these inconveniences, made an under-ground passage, by which his guest could pass to an outhouse. The wife of Perrier could not endure that one who had seen better days should live as her family did, on vegetables and bread, and occasionally bought meat to regale the melancholy stranger. These unusual purchases excited attention; it was suspected that Perrier had some one concealed; nightly visits were more frequent. In this state of anxiety he often complained of the hardness of his lot. Perrier one day returned from market in a serious mood; and after some inquiries from his guest, he replied, "Why do you complain? you are fortunate compared with the poor wretches whose heads were cried in the market to-day. Bruguier, the pastor, at 2400 francs; Bresse, the mayor, at the same, and general Gilly at 10,000!"--"Is it possible?" "Aye, it is certain." Gilly concealed his emotion, a momentary suspicion passed his mind; he appeared to reflect. "Perrier," said he, "I am weary of life; you are poor and want money: I know Gilly and the place of his concealment; let us denounce him; I shall, no doubt, obtain my liberty, and you shall have the 10,000 francs." The old man stood speechless, and as if petrified. His son, a gigantic peasant, 27 years of age, who had served in the army, rose from his chair, in which he had listened to the conversation, and in a tone not to be described, said, "Sir, hitherto we thought you unfortunate, but honest; we have respected your sorrow, and kept your secret; but since you are one of those wretched beings who would inform of a fellow creature, and insure his death to save yourself, there is the door; and if you do not retire, I will throw you out of the window." Gilly hesitated; the peasant insisted; the general wished to explain, but he was seized by the collar. "Suppose I should be general Gilly," said the fugitive. The soldier paused. "And it is even so," continued he, "denounce me, and the 10,000 francs are yours." The soldier threw himself on his neck; the family were dissolved in tears; they kissed his hands, his clothes, protested they would never let him leave them, and that they would die rather than he should be arrested. In their kindness he was more secure than ever; but their cottage was more suspected, and he was ultimately obliged to seek another asylum. The family refused any indemnity for the expense he had occasioned them, and it was not till long after that he could prevail upon them to accept an acknowledgement of their hospitality and fidelity. In 1820, when the course of justice was more free, general Gilly demanded a trial; there was nothing against him; and the duke d'Angouleme conveyed to Madame Gilly the permission of the king for the return of her husband to the bosom of his country.

But, even when the French government was resolved to bring the factions of the department of the Gard, under the laws, the same men continued to exercise the public functions. The society, called Royale, and its secret committee, maintained a power superior to the laws. It was impossible to procure the condemnation of an assassin though the evidence against him was incontestible, and for whom, in other times, there would have been no hope. The Truphemys, and others of his stamp, appeared in public, wearing immense mustachios, and white cockades embroidered with green. Like the brigands of Calabria, they had two pistols and a poignard at their waists. Their appearance diffused an air of melancholy mixed with indignation. Even amidst the bustle of the day there was the silence of fear, and the night was disturbed by atrocious songs, or vociferations like the sudden cry of ferocious wild beasts.

Ultimate resolution of the Protestants at Nismes.

With respect to the conduct of the protestants, these highly outraged citizens, pushed to extremities by their persecutors, felt at length that they had only to choose the manner in which they were to perish. They unanimously determined that they would die fighting in their own defence. This firm attitude apprised their butchers that they could no longer murder with impunity. Every thing was immediately changed. Those, who for four years had filled others with terror, now felt it in their turn. They trembled at the force which men, so long resigned, found in despair, and their alarm was heightened when they heard that the inhabitants of the Cavennes, persuaded of the danger of their brethren, were marching to their assistance. But, without waiting for these reinforcements, the protestants appeared at night in the same order and armed in the same manner as their enemies. The others paraded the Boulevards, with their usual noise and fury, but the protestants remained silent and firm in the posts they had chosen. Three days these dangerous and ominous meetings continued; but the effusion of blood was prevented by the efforts of some worthy citizens distinguished by their rank and fortune. By sharing the dangers of the protestant population, they obtained the pardon of an enemy who now trembled while he menaced.

But though the protestants were modest in their demands, only asking present safety, and security for the future, they did not obtain above half of their requests. The dissolution of the National Guard at Nismes was owing to the prudence and firmness of M. Laine. The re-organization of the Cour Royale was effected by M. Pasquier, then Keeper of the Seals; and these measures certainly ensured them a present safety but no more. M. Madier de Montgau, the generous champion of the protestants at Nismes, was officially summoned before the Court of Cassation at Paris, over which M. de Serre, Keeper of the Seals, presided, to answer for an alleged impropriety of conduct as a magistrate, in making those public appeals to the Chamber which saved the protestants, and increased the difficulties of renewing those persecutions of which he complained. The French attorney general demanded the erasure of his name from the list of magistrates, but this the court refused. Unfortunately since the law of elections in France has been changed, two of the bitterest enemies of the protestants had been chosen Deputies at Nismes. The future, therefore, is not without its dangers, and the condition of the persecuted may fluctuate with the slightest political alteration; but which, it is to be hoped, may be prevented from any acts that may again disgrace the catholic religion, by the powerful expression of the public mind, actuated with better principles, or by the interference of the protestant influence in this or other countries. Happily, since the year 1820, no fresh complaints have issued from the south of France on the score of religion.

Chapter XVIII: Asaad Shidiak

CHAPTER XVIII.

ASAAD SHIDIAK.

NARRATIVE OF THE CONVERSION, IMPRISONMENT, AND SUFFERINGS OF ASAAD SHIDIAK, A NATIVE OF PALESTINE, WHO HAS BEEN CONFINED FOR SEVERAL YEARS IN THE CONVENT OF MT. LEBANON.

The following narrative illustrates two points. 1st. The usefulness of Christian Missions. 2d. The unchanging persecuting spirit of the papal church. The subject of the following narrative has now been in confinement about five years; during which time he has suffered almost every indignity and vexation which the malice of his enemies could impose upon him. Up to the present time, however, he has remained steadfast in his adherence to the principles of the gospel. We give the narrative of his trials and sufferings in the simple and affecting language of the missionaries, which excited such powerful interest in the bosoms of Christians, at the time of its first publication. The principal facts are taken from the Missionary Herald published by the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions.

Biographical Notices of Asaad Shidiak.

The following account of the remarkable convert from the Maronite Roman Catholic church, whose name has, of late, appeared frequently on the pages of the Missionary Herald, is compiled chiefly from the journal of Mr. Bird, American Missionary in Syria. The other matter which is inserted, is derived from authentic sources, and is designed to connect, or to illustrate the extracts from the journal, or to render the biography more complete and satisfactory.

His early History.

Asaad Shidiak was born in the district north of Beyroot, called Kesruan, where, and at Hadet, a small village five miles south-east of Beyroot, his family have ever since lived. This family now consists of the widowed mother, five sons, (of whom Asaad is the third) and two or three daughters. At about the age of 16, he entered the college of Ain Warka, and spent a year and a half in studying grammar, (Arabic and Syriac,) logic and theology. After this he passed two years teaching theology to the monks of a convent near Hadet.

He has also been some considerable time scribe to the bishop of Beyroot, and to the patriarch, the latter of whom was a teacher in the college when Asaad was a student. During the late rebellion, headed by the shekh Besir, a mere complimentary letter of Asaad's to one of the disaffected party, being intercepted, and shown to the emir Beshir, his suspicion was excited, and he wrote immediately to the patriarch, in whose employ he then was, to dismiss him from his service. The letter of Asaad was produced, and though it was seen to contain nothing exceptionable, the patriarch thought proper to dismiss him without ceremony.

Connexion with Mr. King.

The dispensations of Providence often seem afflictive when they happen, and most kind and benevolent afterwards, when their design is perceived. So it was in the case of Asaad. Being thus cast out upon the world, by those who ought to have befriended him, he applied to Mr. King for employment as his instructer in Syriac, and was accepted. Though a young man, Mr. King pronounced him to be one of the most intelligent natives of the country, whom he had met with on Mount Lebanon. From morning until night, for several weeks, they were together, and hours were spent by them, almost every day, in discussing religious subjects, and upon a mind so candid, so shrewd, so powerful in its conceptions, and so comprehensive in its surveys, as that of Asaad, an impression favorable to protestant christianity could not but be made.

Having completed his engagements with Mr. King, he, at the recommendation of Mr. Fisk, set up a school in Beyroot, for teaching Arabic grammatically, but soon found himself obliged to relinquish it, at the command of his patriarch. He was also forbidden, as is stated by Mr. Bird, to give any further instruction to the Bible-men, as the missionaries are called, because the patriarch "had received fresh instructions from Rome to persecute these men by every means in his power, so long as one of them should remain in the country."

When Mr. King was about to leave Syria, he wrote the farewell letter to his friends in that country. The letter was designed, by the writer, to show the reasons which prevented his becoming a member of the Roman catholic church. This letter Asaad attempted to answer but his answer, so far from being satisfactory to himself, was the occasion of raising strong doubts in his mind, as to the general correctness of the Romish faith.

Connexion with Mr. Bird.

Under the influence of these doubts, which seem to have distressed him greatly, he entered the service of Mr. Bird as his instructer in Arabic. His doubts continued to increase; for he now began in earnest the study of the Bible and of his own heart, and made constant progress in the knowledge of both. At length he became a protestant in faith, and, as there is reason to believe, a truly pious man. Immediately he commenced reformer; and though young, his matured judgment, his vigorous intellect, his intrepidity, and his acquisitions, great for his age and his nation, soon drew towards him the general attention.

Visits his Relations.

On the 12th of November, 1825,--says Mr. Bird--Shidiak received a letter from the patriarch, in which he threatens him, with his brother Tannoos and another Maronite youth, with immediate excommunication, unless they cease from all connexion with the Bible-men.

15. After mature deliberation it was thought advisable, for the present, that he should go home to his friends in Hadet, until the fever of alarm and opposition should subside a little.

His return to Mr. Bird.

Dec. 12. Shidiak returned, after nearly a month's absence, to continue with me for a year, risking whatever obloquy and violence might come upon him. He has just been obliged to give up an advantageous contract of marriage, into which he had some months ago entered, because, since suspicions were afloat that he is heretical in his notions, the father of the girl required him to bring a letter from the patriarch, specifying what office he would give him. He now gives up all intentions of marriage. For his greater security, I am to procure for him the usual written protection of the English consul, which shall insure to him, while in my immediate employ, all the safety and liberty of an English resident.

Progress of His Opinions.

13. Spent most of the day in conversation with Asaad on the subject of religion. He had lately been much in company with the emir Sulman, and observed, that his prejudices against christianity were evidently much softened.

14. Conversed with Asaad on the books of the Apocrypha.[E] He seemed satisfied with the proofs that they were not given by inspiration of God. He is now searching the scriptures with such an intensity of interest, as to leave him neither time nor relish for any thing else.

We have a copy of the Arabic bible, printed at Rome, at the end of which is an appendix which he has discovered to contain a copious list of popish doctrines, with their appropriate references to scripture proofs. These proofs he has found so weak, that he expresses his astonishment how such doctrines could be inferred from them; and nothing has occurred of late, which has more strengthened his conviction that the church of Rome is radically wrong. What seems to have affected him most sensibly, is, the expression he has found, "We are under obligation to kill heretics."--Proof,--'False prophets God commanded to be slain. Jehu and Elijah killed the worshippers and prophets of Baal.' This passage he shows to all who visit him, priests and people, and calls upon them to judge whether such sweeping destruction is according to the spirit of the gospel.

In this country, where the pope cannot do all he could wish, the right of murdering every one who differs from him, has not been so publicly asserted of late, and some, when they hear it, are a little startled. But most of the good children of "the church" are soon quieted again, by the recollection, that their kind and compassionate "mother" means well, even in murder. The common mode of reasoning, is, in this case, inverted. It is not said, "the action is right, therefore the church does it;" but, "the church does it, therefore it is right."

Jan. 1, 1826. Twelve or fourteen individuals were present at the Arabic service at Mr. Goodell's. After this service, we questioned Asaad closely with regard to the state of his heart, and were rather disappointed at the readiness, with which he replied, that he thought he was born again. For ourselves, we chose rather to suspend our opinion. He can hardly be supposed to have acquired yet, even speculatively, very clear notions of what is regeneration; and it would seem quite as consistent with christian humility, and with a true knowledge of his sinfulness, if he should speak of himself with more doubt and caution.

In the evening, an acquaintance of his, one who has heretofore expressed great friendship to him, and to us; who had said that there was no true religion to be found in the whole country, and pretended to lament very much that the patriarch and priests had so much sway; came to give Asaad a last serious admonition.

"This," said he, "is the last time I intend ever to say a word to you on the subject of religion. I wish, therefore, before you go any further, that you would pause and think whether you can meet all the reproach of the world, and all the opposition of the patriarch and priests."

Asaad replied, that he had made up his mind to meet all these things. "And now," said he, "if, as you say, you intend never to hold any more conversation with me on the subject of religion, I have one request to make of you, and that is, that you will go, and make the subject of religion a matter of serious prayer and inquiry, and see where the path of life is; I then leave you with your conscience and with God."

After relating the substance of this conversation to us, Asaad remarked, that these people reminded him of the late patriarch such an one, who had a moderate share of understanding, but was ambitious to appear very well. This patriarch had a bishop who was really an acute and learned man, and whose opinions were always received with the greatest deference on all matters relative to religion. The bishop being on a visit one day at the patriarch's, the latter called him to his presence, and proposed to him the interpretation of a passage of scripture. The bishop gave the explanation according to the best of his judgment. "No," said his holiness, "that is not the meaning of the passage;" and proposed to have a second. When the bishop had again given his opinions and reasons, the patriarch answered as before, "That is not the meaning of the passage." In a third and fourth case, the bishop was equally unfortunate, all his arguments being swept away by the single sage remark of his holiness, "That is not the meaning of the passage." At last the bishop, in a fit of discouragement, said, "Your holiness has put me upon the solution of a number of questions, in all which, it seems, I have been wrong. I would now thank your holiness to tell me what is right." The patriarch being startled at the new ground he was on, changed the conversation. "So," said Asaad, "these people can all tell me I am mistaken; but when I ask them what is right, they are silent."

Asaad has often remarked, that he is full of anxiety, and finds no rest for the sole of his foot. In many things he sees the Romish church to be wrong, and in some things he thinks we are so. Our apparent tranquility of mind, as to our religious views, is a matter of surprise to him. This evening he conversed on the subject with more than usual feeling. "I seem," said he, "to be alone among men. There is nobody like me, and I please nobody. I am not quite in harmony with the English in my views, and therefore do not please you. My own countrymen are in so much error, I cannot please them. God I have no reason to think I please; nor do I please myself. What shall I do?"

It was not altogether unpleasant to hear these professions of diffidence in himself, and I endeavoured to turn off his attention from all other sources of consolation than that of the "Comforter, which is the Holy Ghost."

Asaad observed, that whatever might be said, and whatever might be true, of our object, in coming to this country he saw that the doctrines we taught were according to truth, and he was more than ever determined to hold to them.

Asaad says, that wherever he goes, and to whomsoever he addresses himself on the subject of religion, people say, "Ah, it is very well for you to go about and talk in this manner: you have, no doubt, been well paid for it all." These insinuations wear upon his spirit, and he sometimes says, "O that I were in some distant land, where nobody had ever known me, and I knew nobody, that I might be able to fasten men's attention to the truth, without the possibility of their flying off to these horrid suspicions."

He wishes also to have another interview with the patriarch, that he may tell him his whole heart, and see what he will say. The patriarch is not, he says, of a bad disposition by nature, and perhaps if he could be persuaded that he was neither acting from revenge nor from love of money, but simply from a conviction of the truth, he would be softened in his feelings, and something might be done with him to the benefit of religion. He desired, among other things, to propose, that an edition of the New Testament should be printed under the patriarch's inspection at Schooair, the expense of which, (if he chose) should be borne by the English.[F]

Visits the Patriarch.

6. For some time, we had been looking daily for a regular excommunication to be published by the patriarch's order against Asaad; but instead of this, a letter arrived from his holiness to-day, brought by his own brother, priest Nicholas, containing his apostolic blessing, inviting him to an interview, and promising him a situation in some office. The messenger said, that the patriarch, his brother, had heard that the English had given Asaad 40 purses, (2000 dollars) to unite him with them, and that he had thought of giving Asaad the same sum, that no obstacle might remain to his leaving them. "This money," said he, "with which the English print books, and hire men into their service is but the pelf of the man of sin, and could you but be present to hear what the people say of you, through the whole country, for your associating with the English, you would never be in their company again."

When we were informed of what occurred between this priest and Asaad, and of Asaad's intention to go and see the patriarch, we all expressed our fears that he would be ill-treated, but he did not anticipate it. He said, he had known an instance of a vile infidel and blasphemer, who was simply excommunicated, and that it was not the custom of the Maronites to kill, as we suggested, on account of religion. We assured him that he had not yet learned how much men hate the truth, and that his church would not feel herself half as much in danger from an open blasphemer, as from an active lover of the gospel. But he was so confident that good would result from such a visit, that we ceased from urging our objections, and commended him to the will of God.

It was during this visit, that most of the conversations happened which are so admirably narrated in the public statement made by himself, which will be found in the sequel. He manifested throughout, as the reader will discover, the spirit of the early christian confessors. He denied the infallibility of popes and councils; asserted and defended the great doctrines of the gospel, and besought, that the scriptures might be circulated, and read, and be made the only standard of faith, and rule of practice, and that evangelists might be sent through the land.

Against such a formidable innovator, the patriarch and his bishops rose up in wrath, and Asaad was threatened with imprisonment and death.

Two days after his departure, he thus wrote to Mr. Bird.

"I am now at Der Alma, (convent of Alma,) and thanks to God, I arrived in good health. But as yet I have not seen the patriarch. I pray God the Father, and his only Son Jesus Christ our Lord, that he would establish me in his love, that I may never exchange it for any created thing--that neither death, nor life, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor riches, nor honour, nor dignity, nor office, nor any thing in creation, shall separate me from this love. I hope you will pray to God for me; which request I also make to all the brethren and sisters, (all the saints,) after giving them, especially Mr. Goodell, abundant salutations."

24. Heard that Asaad had been sent to the Armenian convent Bzumar, to confess, and that he would probably be sent to Aleppo as a priest. Another said, he was seen at the college of Ain Warka.

Is forcibly detained.

Feb. 22. Fearing for the safety of Asaad, since hearing that he has not written to his friends, we this morning sent a messenger with a short note, to find him, and ascertain his state.

23. The messenger returned, saying, that he yesterday went to the village, where he understood the patriarch was, and found that he had just gone with a train of twenty men, and Asaad in company, to Der Alma. In the morning, he rose, went to that convent, and chanced to find Asaad alone. After some conversation, in which they were providentially not interrupted, Asaad handed him a hasty line, and he returned. The line was as follows:

"Much respected brother,--Your note has reached me, and has added another proof to the many I have had already, of your kind regard to me. I now beseech you once more, to pray for me, that I may be delivered from the dark devices of men. I find myself reduced to quite an extremity. One or more of three things are before me; either to be thought mad, or to commit sin, or to offer up my life I call upon God for deliverance. I cannot now write fully, but the bearer will tell you of all."

The messenger said, that the emir of that district had threatened to send him to Bteddeen, to be imprisoned. Asaad replied, that he was ready to go to prison and to death. He was engaged in daily disputations with the patriarch and others. His countenance wore a shade of melancholy, and his eyes were red with weeping.

When it was proposed by the messenger to interfere with English authority for his rescue, he said such a course might exasperate his enemies, and cost him his life: it would be better to wait a while, and leave it for Providence to open a way for his escape.

This assurance of his steadfastness was like a cordial to our spirits, and was not without a good influence on some that are about us. By the grace of God, he will witness a good confession before the dignitaries both of church and state, and by the same grace, he may open the eyes of some of them to the truth as it is in Jesus. To him that was with Daniel and with the three children in their dangers, we commend him.

24. Called on the consul to inquire what could be done for the protection or relief of Asaad. He recommended a course of moderation and forbearance, and said it was not customary to extend English protection to natives, when abroad on their own business.

26. Two young emirs from Hadet called. I asked one of them "Where is Asaad Shidiak at present?"

He replied, "He is with the patriarch."

"And is he contented there?"

"Not very well contented. But what should he do, poor fellow, necessity is laid upon him."

This remark proves to us, that it is not a secret among the priests and emirs, that Asaad is detained against his will.

March 1. A youth called this morning, and said Asaad Shidiak sent me salutation. He showed me a line he had received from Asaad the day before, saying, "If you will pass this way about midnight, I will go with you to Beyroot." Owing to some circumstance, the young man did not go to the convent, and now he proposed to take a horse, by which Asaad may escape to-night.

As we had not perfect confidence in the youth, we did nothing, but having ascertained his plan, left him to go on as he chose. In the evening, we had a season of prayer, particularly on his account.

Escapes and returns to Beyroot.

2. Rose early, and repaired to the room, where Asaad would have been, had he come; but there were no tidings from him. Little expectation remained of his coming to-day, and we were not without our fears that the attempt had miscarried. It was not long, however, before it was announced, that Asaad was at the door.

The meeting was one of great joy and thanksgiving to us all.--After a little rest and refreshment, he gave us a brief account of his escape.

He had not seen the youth, who had undertaken to befriend him, but finding he did not call the night before, as he expected, he resolved not to wait another day. Therefore, at about twelve o'clock last night, having written a paper and left it on his bed, with the quotation, "Come out of her my people," &c. he set off on foot, committing himself to God for strength and protection. The darkness was such, that he often found himself out of his road, sometimes miring in mud, and sometimes wading in rivers. After some hours of weariness and anxiety, he came to the shore of the sea, where he found a large boat thrown up, under which he cast himself, and obtained a little rest. After this, he continued his walk without interruption, till he reached Beyroot.

In the course of the forenoon, a messenger came from the neighbouring shekh, or sheriff, requesting Asaad to come and see him; adding, that if he did not come, he would watch an opportunity to take his life. The messenger came a second time, and returned without accomplishing his object. We afterwards wrote a line to the shekh to say, that if he would favour us with a call in person and take a cup of coffee, he could have the privilege of an interview with Asaad. Just as the note was sent, the consul providentially came in, and the shekh found him ready to give him a seasonable reprimand for presuming to threaten a person under English protection. The shekh declared, that he had never sent such a message; that the man who brought it was but an ass, and said it from his own brain; that having heard of Asaad's arrival, he merely wished to see whether the reports respecting his insanity were true or false; that Asaad was his bosom friend, his own son, and that whatever he had was his; and that as for church, and priests, and patriarch, he cared for none of them.

Towards evening, the youth already mentioned entered the house, ready to faint with excessive fear and fatigue. He had fled from the mountains in all haste, under the absurd apprehension, that he should be suspected and taken up as an accomplice with Asaad. Having thrown himself upon a seat, and taken a little breath, he began to relate what had happened. He was at the convent, when it was first discovered that Asaad had fled. The patriarch and his train were occupied in the religious services of the morning, so that no great sensation was at first apparent among them. One individual spoke boldly in favour of Asaad, saying, "Why should he not leave you? What inducement had he to remain here? What had he here to do? What had he to enjoy? Books he had none; friendly society none; conversation against religion abundant; insults upon his opinions and his feelings abundant. Why should he not leave you?"

Others, especially the great ones, pitied the poor maniac, (as they called him,) and sent in quest of him to every direction, lest peradventure, he might be found starving in some cavern, or floating in the sea, or dashed in pieces at the bottom of a precipice.

On learning of Asaad all that had passed during his absence, we requested him to write a statement of the facts somewhat in the form of a journal. We wished this not only for our own information, but to produce it to those who shall inquire on the subject of Asaad's lunacy hereafter.

Public Statement of Asaad Shidiak.

Beyroot, March 1826.

Respected Brethren and Friends,--Since many have heard a report, that I have become insane; and others, that I have become a heretic; I have wished to write an account of myself in few words, and then let every reflecting man judge for himself, whether I am mad, or am slandered; whether following after heresy, or after the truth of the orthodox faith. Every serious man of understanding will concede, that true religion is not that of compulsion, nor that which may be bought and sold; but that which proceeds from attending to the word of God, believing it, and endeavouring to walk according to it to the glory of God, and that every one, whose object is solely contention, and who does not obey the truth, but follows after unrighteousness, is far distant from the true religion. This is the standard, by which I would be judged by every one who reads this narrative.

About eight or nine months ago, I was employed, by an American by the name of J. King, in teaching him the Syriac language. At that time, I was very fond of engaging with him in disputatious conversations, to prove him to be in error; but with none but worldly motives, to display my talents and knowledge, and acquire the praise of men. After this, I applied myself to reading of the word of God with intense interest. Now this person wrote a farewell letter to his friends, in which he excuses himself from uniting himself with the Roman Catholic church. After reading this letter, I found, in the Holy scriptures, many passages, which made against the opinions of the writer. These passages I selected, and from them and other evidences, composed a reply to him. But when I was copying the first rough draught of the same, and had arrived to the answer to the last of the objections, which he said prevented his becoming a member of the Roman Catholic church, viz: that the Roman Catholic church teaches, that it is wrong for the common people to possess or read the word of God but that they ought to learn from the popes and councils, I observed the writer brings a proof against the doctrine from the prophet Isaiah, viz: "To the law and to the testimony, if they speak not according to my word, it is because there is no light in them."

While I was endeavouring to explain this passage also, according to the views of the Roman Catholic church, with no other object than the praise of men, and other worldly motives, I chanced to read the 29th chapter of Isaiah, from the 15th verse to the end. I read, and was afraid. I meditated upon the chapter a long while, and feared that I was doing what I did, with a motive far different from the only proper one, viz. the glory and the pleasure of God. I therefore threw by my paper without finishing the copy, and applied myself diligently to the reading of the prophecy of Isaiah. I had wished to find, in the prophets, plain proofs, by which to establish, beyond contradiction, that Jesus Christ is the Messiah, so long expected from ancient days; proofs that might be made use of in answer to Moslems and Jews. While I was thus searching, I found various passages, that would bear an explanation according to my views, but did not find them sufficient to enforce conviction on others, until I finally came to the 52d chapter 14th verse, and onward to the end of the next chapter.

On finding this testimony, my heart rejoiced, and was exceeding glad, for it removed many dark doubts from my own mind also. From that time, my desire to read the New Testament, that I might discover the best means of acting according to the doctrines of Jesus, was greatly increased. I endeavoured to divest myself of all selfish bias, and loved more and more to inquire into religious subjects. I saw, and continue to see, many of the doctrines of the Roman Catholic church, which I could not believe, and which I found opposed to the truths of the Gospel; and I wished much to find some of her best teachers to explain them to me, that I might see how they proved them from the Holy scriptures. As I was reading an appendix to a copy of the sacred scriptures, printed at Rome by the Propaganda, and searching out the passages referred to, for proving the duty of worshipping saints, and other similar doctrines, I found that these proofs failed altogether of establishing the points in question, and that to infer such doctrines from such premises, was even worthy of ridicule. Among other things, in this appendix, I found the very horrible Neronian doctrines, that it is our duty to destroy heretics. Now every one knows, that whoever does not believe that the pope is infallible, is a heretic in his opinions.

This doctrine is not merely that it is allowable to kill heretics, but that we are bound to do it. From this I was the more established in my convictions against the doctrines of the pope, and saw that they were the doctrines of the ravenous beast, and not of the gentle lamb. After I had read this, I asked one of the priests in Beyroot respecting this doctrine, and he assured me, that it was even so as I had read. I then wished to go to some place, though it might be a distant country, that I might find some man of the Roman Catholic church sufficiently learned to prove the doctrine above alluded to.

After this, as I was at Beyroot teaching a few Greek youths the Arabic grammar, I received a letter from his holiness the Maronite patriarch, saying, that if I did not cease from all assistance whatever to the English, and that if I did not leave them within one day, I should, ipso facto, fall under the heaviest excommunication.

Thinking, as I did, that obeying my superiors, in all things not sinful, was well and good, I did not delay to leave, and so went to my friends at Hadet; but still thinking very much on the subject of religion, so that some people thought me melancholy. I loved exceedingly to converse on religious subjects, indeed I took no pleasure in any worldly concerns, and found all worldly possessions vain. After this, I received a second letter from his holiness the patriarch, in which he said thus: "After we had written you the first letter, we wrote you a second; see that you act according to it. And if you fulfil all that was commanded in it, and come up to us when we come to Kesran, we will provide you a situation." But I saw that nothing, in which I was accustomed to take delight, pleased me any longer. I returned again, after some time, to Beyroot; and after I had been there no long time, Hoory Nicolas arrived, brother to his holiness the rev. patriarch, with a request from the latter, to come and see him, which I hastened to do. Hoory Nicolas then began to converse with me, in the way of reprimand, for being in connexion with the English. I replied that, as we ought not to deny the unity of God, because the Musselmans believe it, so we ought not to hate the gospel because the English love it. He then began to tell me of the wish of his holiness, the rev. patriarch, that I should come out to him, and of his great love to me; and said that he (the patriarch) had heard, that I had received thirty or forty purses of money from the English; and he assured me of their readiness not to suffer this to be any hindrance to my coming out from them.

Now if my object were money, as some seemed to think, I had then a fair opportunity to tell him a falsehood, and say, "I indeed received from the English that sum, but I have expended so and so, and cannot leave them unless I restore the whole." In this way I might have contrived to take what I wished. Yet I did not so answer him, but declared to him the truth, how much wages I had received, and which was nothing extraordinary.

He then gave me a paper from his holiness the patriarch, in which he says, "You will have received from us an answer, requesting that when we come to Alma, you will come up and see us. We expect your presence, and, if God please, we will provide you some proper situation, with an income that shall be sufficient for your sustenance. Delay not your coming, lest the present happy opportunity should pass by." Knowing, as I did, that many people supposed my object, in continuing with the English, to be gain, I did not delay fulfilling the request of his reverence, hoping to remove this suspicion, and to enjoy an opportunity of speaking the truth without being hired to do it.

So, about the 7th of January, I left Beyroot, with Hoory Nicolas, and arrived at Der Alma the same night. His holiness, the patriarch, was not there. On the next day, when he came, I met him, and saluted him in the road. In the evening he called me into his chamber, and began to ask me questions, that he might discover what I was; and I answered him telling him the whole truth, although this course was opposed to my personal convenience. At this he seemed surprised, for he must have perceived it was contrary to what he had been accustomed to see in me. Afterwards, when I declared to him, that I never had before been a believer, according to the true living faith, he was probably still more astonished. He then asked me if I believed as the Romish church believed. I again told him the truth, that I did not. He asked then what was my faith, and I answered to the following purport, "True and living faith must be divine, connected with hope, love and repentance, and that all these virtues are the gift of God &c.; that I believed the truth as God had inspired it; and that it would be but a lie, if I should say that I believed as the Romish church does, while in fact I do not. I must have proofs."

After some conversation like this, he told me that this doctrine of mine was heretical, and that as long as I remained in this state of opinion, he would suffer no one to have intercourse with me in buying and selling, &c. This prohibition of his brought to my mind the words in the Revelation, xiii, 17.[G] Then he gave me to understand, that if, after three days, I did not get back out of this state, I must no more enter the church. At other times, he wished me to swear by the eucharist and by the gospel, that my faith was like the faith of the Roman catholic church. He asked me if I was a Bible man; I replied, "I do not follow the opinions of the Bible men; but if you think me a Bible man on account of the opinions I have advanced, very well."

The sum of what I said was, that without evidence I could not believe what the Romish church believes. From that time, after three days, I did not enter the church for a space. Some time passed again, and the patriarch inquired of me my faith. I then explained to him what I believed respecting the unity and trinity of God, and that the Messiah was one person with two natures, and that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and Son. Then arose a disputation about, who is the Vicar that Christ has appointed to explain his law. I answered in substance as I afterwards did in writing, that by reason, and learning, and prayer to God, with purity of motive, we may know, from the holy scriptures, every thing necessary to our salvation. This was the purport of my reply, which perhaps was not expressed with sufficient clearness, or perhaps I was not able to say it in the manner that was appropriate, for such a tumult and storm were excited in the company that they seemed to me to be intent on overcoming me by dint of vociferation, rather than by argument, and to drown my voice, rather than to understand my opinions.

When, after some days, came bishop Abdalla Blabul and Padre Bernardus of Gzir, the patriarch one day called me to them in his chamber, and asked me what I wished, whether money or office, or whatever it might be, promising to gratify me, speaking of his love to me and of his great interest in my welfare. These professions I know to be sincere, but they are according to the world, and not according to the Gospel. I assured him that I wanted nothing of the things he had mentioned; that I was submissive and obedient to him; and that if he thought of me, that I had taken money of the English, he was welcome to shut me up in my chamber as to a prison, and take from me every thing that I possessed; that I wished from them merely my necessary food and clothing, and that I would give them this assurance in writing. The bishop and priest then begged me, in presence of the patriarch, to say that my faith was like that of the Romish church. I replied, that I feared to tell a falsehood by saying a thing, while actually, in my reason, I did not believe it.

"But," said they, "the patriarch here will absolve you from the sin of the falsehood." I turned to the Patriarch and put the question whether he would so absolve me. He answered, that he would. I said, "What the law of nature itself condemns, it is out of the power of any man to make lawful." He then again asked me what I wished to do. I said, I wish to go and see the Armenian patriarch Gregory, and inquire of him what I ought to do. He consented, and requested me, when I had done this, to return to him, to which I agreed. I was accompanied by a priest from the station of the patriarch to the College of Ain Warka, where I found Hoory Joseph Shaheen, with whom I conversed a considerable time, and with great pleasure; for I found that for himself, he did not believe that the pope was infallible in matters of faith, that is to say, unless in concert with the congregated church. I then began to confess to him: but when I saw that he held steadfastly some opinions for no other reason than that the church so believed, and without bringing any proper evidence of the fact, viz. from councils or from the fathers, and burst out upon me with exceeding bitter words, saying, "Know that the church neither deceives, nor is deceived, and be quiet;" and when I wished him to instruct me according to the word of God, with the simple object of glorifying God and fulfilling his will, I saw that he was not disposed to support any opinion because it was according to the word of God, but because so thought the church; and I saw him also ready to retain these opinions, although I should bring the strongest evidences against them from the holy Scriptures. He told me that it was impossible for him to teach any thing contrary to the council of Trent. So I found I could not receive his system, because, though you should shew him that it was wrong, he would not give it up, lest with it he should be obliged to give up his office. I therefore told him, you are bound, i. e. shut up as between walls, by the doctrines of the pope and the council of Trent.

In conversation on the images, he would have proved their propriety from Baronius' church history. We found this author quoting the sacred scriptures to prove that our Saviour sent a picture of himself to the king of Abgar. I declared that it was false, in so far as he stated that the Gospel made any such statement, and on that account I could not believe the story. To this he gave me no answer. After this, as we were reading the book, and found a statement respecting the bishops collected in Constantinople, to the number of 313; that they decreed the abolition of the use of images, because it was idolatrous, and that in the clearest terms,--I asked him the question, "If an assembly composed of the bishops of the church were infallible, how is it that this council is said to have committed an error?"

About this time, I heard that a certain individual wished to converse with me on the subject of religion, which rejoiced me exceedingly, and I was impatient for an interview. He came on a Sabbath day to Ain Warka, for the study of the Arabic grammar, according to his custom, and we had a short conversation together on works unlawful on the Sabbath day, and other subjects. He then excused himself from further conversation for want of time; but promised that when we should meet again, he hoped to have a sufficient opportunity to dwell on these subjects at large. I continued at Ain Warka the whole week, reading with the rest at prayers and confessing to Hoory Joseph above mentioned; and on the next Lord's day, the Armenian priest aforesaid came again, and I fully expected to have time and opportunity to ascertain his opinions; but I was disappointed again; for he wished to have the dispute carried on in writing, and to have an assistant with him, with other conditions.

In these circumstances I failed of my object; but was on the whole more inclined than before to receive the doctrines of the Romish church; since the priest had promised to bring his evidence, on all points, from the word of God, that they (the papists) were walking in light and not in darkness.

At this time one informed me that his holiness, bishop Jacob, superior of the convent of Bzumar, wished to see me. And because Hoory Joseph, at first told me that this state in which I had fallen was a temptation of Satan, and at one time shewed me that it was usual for people, when they came to the age of manhood, to be tempted on the subject of their religion, and at another, assured me, that this was a state of delirium:--and again, because I had heard formerly that this bishop Jacob had himself been delirious, and that he was a man of information, I wished very much to see him; and on the same day I went to Hoory Joseph and declared to him plainly my opinions, and shewed him that the beast mentioned in the Revelation was a figure, as the lamb evidently was, and how dreadful must be the torments of those who worship the image of the beast. I then disclosed to him my intention of going up to the convent of Bzumar, where were the patriarch Gregory, bishop Jacob, and the Armenian priest already mentioned.

I set off the same day, and on my arrival saluted the patriarch, and on the same night reasoned on the subjects of faith, hope and love. It appeared that the patriarch's opinion was, that a man may be possessed of living faith, faith unto salvation, although he should feel nothing in his heart. I answered him with a quotation from St. Paul, "With the heart man believeth unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation." But this did not convince him. He explained the heart to mean the will. It then appeared to me that he was not a true believer, and from that time forward I could not believe him, as I would believe a real Christian, but I wished to hear his worldly arguments. On the following day, I asked him how it can he said, that the pope was infallible if there were no proofs of the fact to be brought. I asked him if this pretension of the pope was that of an apostle, or a prophet? if an apostle, or a prophet, he could not be believed without miracles, and that we christians were not to believe any one, though he were to bring down fire from Heaven.[H] His replies to me were weak; and after considerable conversation on what is the church of Christ, on the ignorance that is pardonable, &c. he began to prove that if the pope is not infallible, then there is no religion, no gospel, and even no God. But I observed all his proofs so weak, that I could not be convinced, and I fell into deep perplexity as to what I should do. For sometimes I greatly endeavoured to submit my judgment to his rules and opinions, and made these efforts until my very head would ache. The next day I asked him what was that great city, ruling over the kings of the earth, mentioned in the Rev. xvii, 18? After he had brought his book of commentaries, he answered that it was Rome, which is also called spiritual Babylon, or Babel, and after wishing me to yield to his opinion or that of the book, he said nothing more. From this time I was with the patriarch every day for three or four hours, and his best advice to me was, to pray to St. Antony of Padua, together with one repetition of the Lord's prayer, and one of Hail Mary, &c. every day for three days. When I was thus in doubt from the weakness of their proofs, one of the monks said to me, "If you wish to know good tobacco, ask the patriarch." I hoped that this priest would explain to me those doctrines of the Romish church, which I could not believe; so I went into his chamber and questioned him very particularly on all points. He expressed his wish that we might discuss together all the points one by one, but on condition that the patriarch Joseph should appoint him to do so. He told me he had in his possession a book refuting the opinions of Luther and Calvin. I begged permission to read it; but he refused, telling me that the doctrines of the church all remained unrefuted. He wished me to go down to the patriarch Joseph on this business. So after a stay of four days from my arrival, I departed for Ain Warka according to my promise to Hoory Joseph.

Here I found one of my friends of whom I had heard that he had been very much astonished at my connexion with the Bible men. After I had seen him, and had conversed with him a little on some points, he would no longer hear me, fearing among other things lest he should be crazed. When we touched on the subject of the great city above mentioned, he told me that he had seen a book of commentaries on the Revelation, which made the city clearly to be Rome. At this I wondered greatly, since the meaning was so clear that not even the teachers of the Romish church herself could deny it. I then finished my confession to Hoory Joseph Shaheen, and about sunset the same day, went down to the patriarch to the convent Alma. He requested me again to write a paper stating that my faith was according to the faith of the Romish church. From this I excused myself, begging that such a thing might not be required of me, for the council of Trent had added nothing to the rule of faith, which was established by that of Nice, which begins, "I believe in one God," &c. A short space after, I gave him my advice, with modest arguments, and mild suggestions, on his duty to cause the gospel to be preached in the church among the Maronite people; and offered him the opinion that this should be done by the priests in the vulgar language, every Sabbath day, for the space of one or two hours; and if this should appear too burthensome to the people, to take off from them some of the feast days. After this, I remained silent in my chamber near to his own; and as there came to me a few of the deacons of the patriarch, and others, I read to them at their request in the New Testament printed in Rome. But in a little time after, I entered my room, and found in it none of all the books that had been there, neither New Testament nor any other, and I knew that the patriarch had given the order for this purpose, for he reproved me for reading the gospel to them, but he could accuse me of no false or erroneous explanations, or that I taught them any thing heretical.

One day after this, he called me to his presence and began to threaten me in a most unusual manner. I said, "What do you wish of me, your reverence? What have I done, and what would you have me do? What is my sin, except that I conversed with some individuals, shewing them the errors of the church of Rome?" Then he requested me again, to say, that I believed as did that church, and said, grasping me firmly by the chin, "see how I will take you if you do not repent." I begged him to appoint some one to shew me the truth, by way of discussion, but he would not, and continued expressing his own sentiment, that we are bound to hold fast to the church, even to such a length, that if she should even reject the gospel, we should reject it too.

And here I wish to say a word to every reader that regards and loves the truth; how does such doctrine appear to you? and how could I believe in all which the Romish church holds, without knowing all of it? and how could I say, without a lie, that I believe, when I do not believe?

When I saw the patriarch breaking out with an exceeding loud and unusual voice, I was afraid that I should be found among "the fearful," (Rev. xxi. 8.) and rose to depart. When I reached the door, I turned and said to him, "I will hold fast the religion of Jesus Christ, and I am ready for the sake of it to shed my blood; and though you should all become infidels, yet will not I;" and so left the room.

One of my friends told me, that he had suggested to the patriarch the grand reason why I did not believe in the pope, which was, that among other doctrines of his, he taught, that he could not commit an error, and that now, though a pope should see any one of his predecessors had erred, he could not say this, for fear that he also should appear to be an unbeliever. This friend also told me, that the patriarch wondered how I should pretend that I held to the Christian religion, and still converse in such abusive terms against it; and I also wondered, that after he saw this, he should not be willing so much as to ask me, in mildness, and self-possession, and forbearance, for what reasons I was unwilling to receive the doctrines of the pope, or to say I believed as he did; but he would not consent that the above mentioned Armenian priest should hold a discussion with me, and more than this, laid every person, and even his own brother, under excommunication, if he should presume to dispute or converse with me on the subject of religion.

Under this prohibition from conversation, and this bereavement of books, from what quarter could I get the necessary evidence to believe in their opinion?

Another cause I had of wonder, which was, that not one of all with whom I conversed, after he saw me to be heretical and declining from the truth, thought proper to advise me to use the only means of becoming strong in the faith, viz. prayer to God the Most High, and searching his Holy Word, which a child may understand. I wondered, too, that they should ridicule me, and report me abroad as one mad and after all this, be so fearful to engage in a dispute with the madman, lest he should vanquish them in argument, or spoil their understandings, or turn them away from the truth.

After some time came the bishop of Beyroot. I gave him the usual salutation, and was greatly rejoiced to see him, as I knew the excellency of his understanding, and his quickness of apprehension, and hoped that, after some discussion between us, he would explain the truth, and that he would rest on clear evidence to support his views. But in this case also, I was disappointed; for one day, when I asked him a question, and during the whole short conversation which followed, whenever I began to bring evidence against him, he was angry, and finally drove me from my chamber in a fury, and that with no other cause, as he pretended, than that he did not wish to converse with a heretic.

Some time after this, Hoory Joseph Shaheen came down to the convent of Alma, and I endeavoured to get him to unite with me in persuading the patriarch to send out among the people preachers of the gospel, or that there should be preaching in the churches as before mentioned. But he would not co-operate with me in this, and I was again disappointed.

Then, when the patriarch and the bishop of Beyroot wished to dispute with me, I expressed the hope that the discussion might be in meekness, and without anger. It was concluded that the discussion should be in writing, that no one afterwards should be able to alter what he had once said. They then commenced by asking me questions; the first question was, in amount, this, "Has the Messiah given us a new law?" At first, I did not grant that he had, strictly speaking, given us a new law, and quoted the words of John, that "the law was given by Moses, but grace and truth came by Jesus Christ;" but when I afterwards saw that by "a new law," they meant merely the gospel, or the New Testament, I answered in the affirmative. They then asked me if there was not to be found in this new law some obscurities. I answered, "Yes." They then asked me, Suppose any difference of sentiment should arise between the teachers of Christianity, how are we to distinguish the truth from the error? I answered thus;--"We have no other means of arriving at the truth, than searching the word of God, with learning, and reason, and inquiry of learned spiritual teachers, with purity of motive, and with disinterestedness of inclination. If the obscurities of the word of God cannot be understood by these means, our ignorance is excusable, and will not prevent our salvation. If the passages, which still remain obscure, concern faith, it is sufficient for a man to say, I believe according as the truth is in itself before God, or I believe in the thing as God inspired it to the writer. And if the obscurity respects our practice, after making use of the means above mentioned, if that branch of our practice be forbidden, or under a doubt, desist from it, but if it is not forbidden, do it, and Blessed is he that condemneth not himself in the thing which he alloweth."

After I had given them this answer, they brought no evidence to prove any error in it, and moreover afterwards never put to me any question to writing.

Once, as I was walking with the bishop of Beyroot, he began to tell me how much they all felt for me; and how unwilling they should be to put me in chains to die a lingering death; and that were it not for the sympathy and their love towards me, there were people who had conversed with them, who were ready to take my life. Some further conversation passed, and I began to introduce the subject of religion, and to ask how we could believe in the pope that he was infallible. He quoted for proof the words of our Saviour, Thou art Peter, &c. I asked him if it was proper to suppose that all things bestowed on Peter, were also given to the pope? If so, why does not the pope speak with tongues; and why is he not secure from the evil effects of poison, &c.? He answered, that these last things were not necessary. "But how do you prove it necessary," said I, "that the pope should not err? Is it not sufficient if any one has doubts, to ask his teacher who is not infallible? if you say yes, then the opinion of the fallible man will answer. But if you say no, and that we must go to the pope, what must become of the man who dies before the answer of the pope can reach him?"

He then resorted to another mode of proof, saying, "Is it not desirable that the pope should be infallible?" I assured him I wished he might be so. "Well, is not God able to render him so?" "Yes, He is able to do all things." He wished to infer his point from these two premises. But I said, "your reasoning with regard to the pope, may be applied to all the bishops of the church; for it is desirable that they should all be infallible, and God is able to make them so." He said, "No, for the bishops feeling less their need of the pope, would not look to him, or submit to him as their head, and then there would be divisions and contentions in the church." But why, said I, did not divisions and contentions arise among the apostles? Were they not all infallible as well as Peter? He would not say they were infallible. I told him, that was an opinion that could not be believed, that the pope was infallible, and the apostles not; for it was well known to all, that the Holy Spirit descended upon the apostles in a peculiar manner. I asked him again, how it could be made to appear that divisions would be produced if all bishops were infallible, for if they were all of one opinion, as they of course would be, their union must be the more perfect. We conversed farther at some length, when he concluded by saying, "You are possessed of a devil."

The next day, as the patriarch and the bishop of Beyroot were seated under a tree without the convent, I went out to them, and said, "Your holiness sent to me to come hither for employment, and I came, and have remained here a considerable time. What do you wish me to do for you, for I cannot remain here in idleness?" He said, "What do you wish to do?" If your holiness pleases, that I teach in the school of Ain Warka, I will do that. "No, I cannot have you go to Ain Warka, to corrupt the minds of those who are studying science, and to contradict my opinions." But I will instruct in grammar. "No, the youths of the college are now attending to moral science." Well, I only beg you will let me know what I am to do, and if you have no employment for me, I wish to return home. The bishop here broke in upon the conversation, saying, I will not suffer you to go back among my flock to deceive them, and turn them away to heresy. Will you then debar me, said I, from my home? If so, let me know where I shall go, what I shall do? The bishop then said to the patriarch, "Indeed I will not suffer this man to go abroad among my people, for he is even attempting to make heretics of us also." Yes replied the patriarch, it will not do after this, to afford him a residence in any part of the land. The bishop then turned to me, in the bitterest anger and rage, reviling me and saying, "If you go among my people again, I will send and take your life, though it be in the bosom of your own house." I said, "Well, what would you have me to do, and what will you do with me? If you wish to kill me, or shut me up in prison, or give me up to the government, or whatever it may be, I wish to know it." "You must wait here till spring or summer," said the patriarch, "and then we shall see how you are." I answered him in the words of that christian who was given by his judge ten days to deliberate whether he would worship an image: "Consider the time already past, and do what you please."

I asked the bishop his reasons for wishing to kill me. What evil had I done? He was filled with high and bitter indignation, saying, "What, miscreant! Shall we let you go forth to corrupt my flock for me? Is not what has passed enough?" I rose and said to them, "God at least is with me," and left them. The patriarch sent after me his nephew, requesting me, in soothing words to return, and saying that he would do what I wished.

But when I contemplated the hardness of heart manifested by the bishop, I could not restrain myself from reproving him, hoping that he would grow mild. I said, therefore, "Our Lord Jesus Christ said, out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh, and that Satan, who was in his heart, wished to kill me, for Satan was a murderer from the beginning." I told him, moreover, that he was not a true disciple of Christ. And when I had left them a second time, the patriarch again sent his nephew to enquire of me what I wished; whether it was money, or what else, promising that he would answer my enquiries.

I returned and told him, that I had a request to make of one thing only, and that I hoped he would answer me, not as to a little child, who would ask a childish thing. He asked me what it was. I said I have to ask of you the favour to send from your priests two faithful men to preach the gospel through the country, and I am ready, if necessary, to sell all that I possess to give to them as part of their wages. He promised me it should be done. But I had reason to expect that he would receive such a request as from the mouth of one out of his reason. Now there was at the convent a man called Hoory Gabriel, who was said to be insane, and was known to all his acquaintance as a man that never would say a word on the subject of religion, and he was a scribe of the patriarch, and from the time of my arrival until that day, had never asked me a single question about my faith, or opinions, nor had given me the least word of advice about any of my errors. The same night, as this priest was passing the evening in company with the patriarch, bishop, and other individuals, as if they had been conversing on my idiocy in making the request of to-day, the patriarch sent for me to come and sit with them. I came. The patriarch then asked this priest and the others present, if two proper men could be found to go and preach the gospel. They then answered one to another, such an one, and such an one, would be the fittest persons, some mentioning one and some another, looking at me in the mean time laughing, to see what I would say.

I smiled in a pleasant manner at all this, and when one asked me, why I laughed? I said to the patriarch, "Have you not perfect confidence in the integrity of the priest Gabriel?" He said, "Yes." I then said, pray let this priest then examine me for the space of a few days, and if he does not conclude that I am a heretic, I will for one, take upon myself this duty of preaching. This remark put an immediate end to the conversation.

The third day, when the bishop wished to mock me before the patriarch and a shekh of the country, I answered his questions according to his own manner; but in a little time he began to revile me, and rebuke me for blasphemy against the eucharist, against the virgin Mary and the pictures, and that because I had said before one of his deacons, that were it not for fear of the patriarch, I would tear all the pictures to pieces and burn them. I gave him answer to every particular by itself, and when he found that he could produce against me no accusation, he increased in wrath. I then said, if this is your pleasure, I will say no more. I told him that I had said, that pictures were not Gods; that such was my opinion always; and that I wished to tell all the common people so, that they might understand it. But to this he would not consent. He then began to accuse me of saying of the eucharist, "Let them smell the scent of it, and know that it is but bread and wine still." I told him that if he would give me leave to speak, or if he wished to hear my views, I would speak; "but how is it that you bring against me accusations, and do not suffer me to make my defence?" Here again he was not willing that I should speak, but the patriarch said to me, "Speak." I then observed, that St. Ephraim says, "Come, eat the fire of the bread, and drink the spirit of the wine;" and began to say from this, that our eating the body of Christ was not natural, but spiritual. Then again he fell into a rage against me. I said to him, "It is written, be ye angry and sin not. I told you before, that I would keep silence and not speak without your consent, and whatever you wish, tell me that I may act or refrain accordingly." At this the patriarch smiled. But the bishop fell into a passion still more violent, against the patriarch as well as myself, and rose and went away. I also left the room. In the evening, when were collected together the patriarch and bishop and all the monks, with priest Nicholas, whom they were about to ordain bishop on the morrow, the patriarch began to ask me questions respecting my faith. When I saw that their object was neither to benefit me, nor receive benefit, I gave them answers calculated to continue the conversation in a trifling strain, saying, "My faith is the faith of Peter, and the faith of Peter is my faith. I believe all that God has given by inspiration to the one only holy catholic church." He asked me, What is the church? I answered, "The church is the whole company of those who believe in the Messiah and his law, on all the face of the earth." But where is the place of the church? "The place of the church is the whole world, it is made up of every nation and people." "What," said he "the English among the rest?" "Yes, of the English also." Afterwards, when he continued to question me, and I saw that he had no other object than to try me, I assured him, this is my faith, and to this faith will I hold, whether it is worth any thing in your estimation or not. I then asked him if he was willing to hold a discussion on the subject; but he would not permit it in any shape. He afterwards requested me to tell my faith again without fear and without concealment. I referred them to the priest that was about to be ordained, saying, that I had conversed with him on all points particularly, and that he was able to make answer for me. The priest then bore testimony on the spot, that I had said before him that I believed the pope to be infallible, while I never said this to him at any time. Afterward, when I was in his company privately, I inquired how he could bear such testimony as he had done. He confessed in the fullest terms, that he knew it was a falsehood, but that he said what he did, that they might cease talking with me. The same night I had resolved on quitting them; so at about midnight I left the convent, committing myself to the protection of God, who never deserts them who put their trust in him, and arrived at Beyroot, on the morning of Thursday, March 2, 1826.

Here then I remain at present, not that I may take my views from the English, or from the Bible men, nor that I may receive my religion from them. No, by no means; for I hold to the word of God. This is beyond all danger of error. In this I believe; in this is my faith; and according to it I desire to regulate my life, and enjoy all my consolations. By this I wish to show what I believe and not to confer with flesh and blood, that I may not run now nor hereafter in vain; for I know and am persuaded, that the true religion is not according to the teaching of men, but according to the inspiration of God: not according to the custom of education, but according to the truth, which is made manifest by the word of God. I therefore say to myself now, as I did in the convent with the patriarch, where I wrote thus:

"Far from me be all the commandments of men. Nothing is to come into comparison with the teaching of Jesus by reading the New Testament. If our hearts are not transformed, there is the greatest danger that we die in our sins. If any thing in the doctrine of Jesus seems burdensome, let us pray that he may make it light; and if there is any thing that we do not understand, let us pray that he would instruct us and reveal the obscurity to all who truly believe in Jesus. There is nothing more delightful to the soul than he. O taste and see that the Lord is good! Blessed are all that put their trust in him! Cast thy burthen on the Lord and he will sustain thee. Sweet is the sorrow produced by his word; for it gives us an aversion to all the consolations of time. Let us therefore seek refuge in God. Alas for thee, O thou that trustest to the doctrines of men, especially if they give rest to your conscience, for that rest is false and deceitful, proceeding from the thoughts of men, and preventing you from attaining that true rest, of which the Apostles speak, saying, We do rest from our labours. Take heed lest there be in any of you an evil heart of unbelief in departing from the living God. Read the word and it shall teach you all things necessary to your salvation. If you say you do not understand it, behold the promise of St. James, If any may lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him. The divine word is a most precious treasure, from which all wise men are enriched. Drink from the fountain itself. Again, I say, vain is the philosophy of men; for it recommends to us doctrines newly invented, and prevents our increase in virtue, rather than promotes it. Cast it far from you."

This is what I wrote some time since, and I would revolve these thoughts in my mind at all times. The object in all that I have done, or attempted, or written, in this late occurrence, is, that I may act as a disciple and servant of Christ. I could not, therefore, receive any advice, which should direct me to hide my religion under a bushel. I cannot regulate myself by any rules contrary to those of Christ; for I believe that all who follow his word in truth, are the good grain, and that all those who add to his word, are the tares sown by the enemy, which shall soon be gathered in bundles and cast into the fire unquenchable. And I beg every member of my sect, i. e. of the Maronite church, who loves truth, if he sees me in an error to point it out to me, that I may leave it, and cleave to the truth. But I must request those who would rectify my views, not to do as did a priest at Beyroot, who after a considerable discussion, denied the inspiration of the New Testament. Men like him I do not wish to attempt to point out my errors; for such men, it is evident, need rather to be preached to, than to preach; and to be guided, rather than to guide. But if any understanding man will take the word of God and prove to me from it any doctrine whatever, I will respect him and honour him with all pleasure. But if a doctrine cannot be established thus, it is not only opposed to the doctrines of Christ, but to the views of the early christians, the fathers of the church; such as St. Ephraim and others. Such doctrines I cannot confess to be correct, although it should cost me the shedding of my blood. Be it known, that I am not seeking money, nor office; nor do I fear any thing from contempt, nor from the cross, nor from the persecution of men, nor from their insults, nor their evil accusations, so far as they are false. For I am ready for the sake of Christ to die daily, to be accounted as a sheep for the slaughter, for he, in that he suffered being tempted, is able to succour those that are tempted. I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that shall be revealed in us. I believe that Jesus is our High Priest for ever and hath an unchangeable priesthood, wherefore he is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by him, for he is the one Mediator between God and man, and he ever liveth to make intercession with the Father for us; and he is the propitiation for our sins, and to him be glory with the Father and his Holy Spirit of life for ever and ever--Amen.

I would only add, if there is any one, whoever he may be, that will shew me to be under a mistake, and that there is no salvation for me unless I submit to the pope, or at least shew me that it is lawful to do so, I am ready to give up all my peculiar views and submit in the Lord. But without evidence that my views are thus mistaken, I cannot give them up, and yield a blind obedience, until it shall be not only told that I am mad, but until I shall be so in fact, and all my understanding leaves me. Not until men shall have burned not only the Bibles printed by the English, but all the Bibles of the world. But these two things, understanding and the Bible, I pray God to preserve both to me and to all the followers of Christ, and that he will preserve and save all you, my friends, in the Lord.

ASAAD SHIDIAK.

Interview with several of his Relatives.

6. Among those who came to see Asaad to-day, were three of his brothers and an uncle. Mansoor, the oldest of the brothers, we had never before seen. He is a furious bigot, and perfectly ignorant and regardless of the first principles of religion. The second, Tannoos, or Antony, has lived among us as a teacher, and has good native and acquired talents; but, though he might be a protestant if he were left at liberty, he thinks it altogether preposterous to attempt to quarrel with bishops and patriarchs on the subject of religion.

These two brothers, and the uncle, (the last worse than the first,) came and conversed together with Asaad in his chamber a considerable time. Hearing them very earnest, I took the liberty also to go in. They continued their rebukes and arguments, (especially the uncle,) in so harsh and unfeeling a manner, that it made me tremble to hear them. They contradicted Asaad, scoffed at and threatened him, calling him possessed, mad, under the power of Satan, and so on. Asaad consented to go home and leave the English, which was the great point they wished to gain, provided they would get an assurance from the patriarch in writing, to say, on the faith of a christian, that he would not molest him.

"But," said they, "then you must hold your tongue, and not broach your new opinions among the people."

"What," replied Asaad, "must I go and live like a dumb man? No, that I will never do. My religion binds me not to do it. I must love my neighbour as myself."

"Why do you not go," said they, "to the Druses, and the Moslems, and preach the gospel to them? You answer, because there is danger. So there is danger in the present case; this is not a land of liberty, therefore be silent."

Asaad.--"Secure me but the free exercise of my conscience, and I will go with you. My religion is my all, and I must be free in it."

They.--"We can give you no such security. Nobody dares go to the patriarch with such a request. You cannot be permitted to publish your notions abroad among the people."

"Then," said Asaad, "there is no more to be said;"--rising, and with clasped hands walking the room;--"Religion unshackled--Religion unshackled, is my doctrine."

They rose and left the room in an angry despair. Mansoor returned, and wished to speak a word with Asaad at the door. In a moment, Asaad returned. "Do you know what Mansoor has told me?" said he. "His last words were, 'Even if the patriarch and the emir should do nothing; if they make no attempts to take your life; be assured, we ourselves will do the work: so take heed to your self accordingly.'"

Asaad was much affected by the interview. As soon as he found himself at liberty, he stepped up into the loft where he sleeps, and threw himself on his couch in prayer.

While in this attitude his next younger brother, Galed, knocked at the door. I called to Asaad to inform him of the fact; but he gave me no answer. I then invited Galed to another room, where Asaad soon joined us with a full and heavy heart. The two brothers saluted each other with embarrassment. Asaad evidently wished to be alone, and the brother, after a few mild, unmeaning inquiries, left him.

Begins to converse more pointedly with the People.

7. I yesterday advised Asaad to direct his conversations with the people, as much as possible to their hearts, and say little or nothing on the corruption of their church. He objected to the counsel. I referred him to similar advice he gave me some months ago. "Ah," said he, "I thought so then, but I now see that you cannot stir a step, but you meet some of their corruptions." However, he to-day made the experiment, and held an hour's conversation with two visiters on the subject of regeneration. They both thought themselves renewed, but took too little interest in the subject to confine their attention to it. "You see," said Asaad, after they had gone, "how little they feel on such a subject. It is painful to talk with such men. I would rather see them contradict, and dispute, and get angry, or any thing, than to appear so dead."

Interview with a younger Brother.

Asaad's brother Galed came again to-day, and discovered more feeling than yesterday on the subject of his brother's leaving the English. He said he had brought an insupportable shame upon the family. Asaad insisted, that such shame was no argument whatever for his leaving us; that all the disciples of Christ were to expect it as a thing of course. Galed assured him, that nobody would think of molesting him, if he were at Hadet. I asked Galed if his brother Mansoor did not threaten yesterday to kill him. He turned away, colored, and muttered something that I did not understand; but the whole was a full acknowledgment of the fact.

Asaad said, "I cannot confide in you."

"But," said Galed, "if any one were disposed to take your life, could they not do it as well here, as at home?"

I answered, "no; that the emir Beshir himself could not enter my house without my permission, and that if the relatives of Asaad did not cease from their threats, I should feel myself bound to shut them out of it."

After a long conversation, at the end of which he found Asaad as inflexible as ever, he rose abruptly, and was going out without a compliment, when Asaad started up, and asked, "Well, what do you conclude to do? Do you really intend to send some assassin to take my life in my room?" The youth, without deigning to look at him, closed the door in sullen grief, and departed.

Asaad turning to me, said, "I cannot please these people. Whatever I say, they are sure to be angry. Soft words, or hard words, it makes no difference to them. They come as if I were under their kingly authority. They lay hold of my cloak, and say, 'Give me this.' If I say, 'I will not give it,' they are angry; and if I reason with them with all the mildness of which I am capable, and say, 'Cannot you be accommodated elsewhere? Can you not wait upon me in a few days?' &c. they are equally angry."

Correspondence with his family.

8. A messenger called this morning with the following note.

"To our brother Asaad Esh Shidiak: May God bless you.--We beg you to come home to-night, and not wait till Sunday. We have pledged our mother that you shall come. If you fail to do so, you will trouble us all. Your brother,

GALED."

To this letter, Asaad sat down, and instantly wrote the following reply:

"To our much honoured and very dear brother Galed: God preserve him.--Your note has reached us, in which you speak of our coming home to-night, and say, that if we do not come, we trouble you all.

"Now if we were in some distant land, your longing after us in this manner might be very proper; but we are near you, and you have been here, and seen us in all health, and we have seen you. Then quiet our mother, that we, through the bounty of God, are in perfect health, and that we have great peace in the Lord Jesus Christ, peace above all that the world can afford, and abundant joy in the Holy Ghost above all earthly joy. But as to our coming up this evening, we do not find it convenient, not even though we had the strongest desire to see our mother and you.

"I beg you all to love God, and to serve him in our Lord Jesus Christ. This is of all things the most important; for if we love God, if he but renew our hearts by the holy Ghost, we shall enjoy each other's society for ever and ever.

"And now we are prevented from coming to you, and you know we are not void of all desire to see you, but the hindrances to which we have alluded, are, we think, a sufficient apology. We beg you to accept our excuse, and to apologize for us to our mother, and we pray God to pour out his grace richly on you all, and lengthen your days.

"Your brother, ASAAD.

"P. S. Tell our mother not to think so much of these earthly things but rather of God our Saviour."

Is visited by his Mother.

This letter had been gone scarcely time sufficient to reach Hadet, when the mother herself was announced at the door. We welcomed her with all cordiality, and treated her with all the respect and attention we could. But all we could do or say did not alter her resolution to get her son away, if in her power. She besought him by the honour he owed her, by the love he professed for her, by his regard for the reputation of her family, for religion itself, and for his own personal safety, that he would immediately accompany her home; and when she found him inflexible, she declared she would never stir out of the house unless he went with her.

To all this Asaad replied, "To what purpose would it be, that I should go home? You wish me to go, you say, that people may be convinced that I am not mad. But you, who come hither, and see, and converse with me, say, after all, that I am mad. How can it be expected that I should convince others that I am not mad, when my own mother will not believe it. Or do you think that if I once get out among you, the air of Hadet will change my opinions, or induce me to be silent? All these are vain expectations. I see no object to be gained. If I should go to Hadet, and be constantly disputing with the people, and telling them, that you are all going astray; that you are worshipping idols instead of the living God; that I could wish to tear down every picture in your churches; that the bread and wine of the Lord's Supper are not Jesus Christ; that I believe the pope to be the beast in the revelation,[I] whose business is to deceive the people and ruin their souls;--by all this, I should injure your feelings, enrage the people, excite the opposition of the emirs, and bishops, and patriarchs, and then return here just in the state I am in now."

The youngest brother, Phares, who accompanied his mother, conversed freely and in good temper, and listened with attention to all Asaad's arguments, by which he endeavoured to justify his views and determinations. But no argument or evidence could convince the disconsolate mother. Asaad had repeated the name of Christ, and the word of God so often, that she, at last, in a fit of impatience exclaimed, "Away, with Christ, and the word of God; what have we to do with them!" and when we pointed out to Asaad some text of Scripture, which we thought applicable in any case, she would endeavour to close the book, or catch it from him, as if it taught paganism, or witchcraft. During her stay we dined, and as Asaad took the meat upon his plate, and ate it without a scruple, in this season of Lent, it was remarked with what a gaze of wonder she regarded him. She seemed to say in her heart, "All is over--my son is lost!"

After some hours of troublesome expostulation and entreaty, during which Asaad once said he could bear it no longer, and rose, and shook my hand to go, it was finally settled that the mother should go home without him, but that to save the family from the insupportable shame, which threatened it, Asaad should give her a paper, stating, in effect, that he was not a follower of the English. When the paper was finished, "Now," said Asaad, "go to your home in peace;" and walked away; but suddenly recollecting himself, he called his brother back, and said, "Phares, I wish you fully to understand, that I love you, and I have one request to make of you, which is, that you will take the New Testament, and read it attentively."--"Give me a New Testament," said Phares, quickly. We gave him the book, and he went his way, evidently affected and softened by the interview.

9. The shekh before mentioned communicated to Asaad, through the medium of a priest, the offer of his daughter in marriage, on condition he should leave the English.

10. Set apart a day of fasting and prayer on Asaad's account. He was observed not to be in a happy temper. Towards evening he spoke of going home. I hoped he would finish writing the statement we had requested of him, "for," said I, "if you go home I shall not see you again for months." "No," said he, "perhaps not for years." His manner was very peculiar. I knew not what was the matter, till, in the evening, after a long conversation on the evidences of inspiration, he said, "I have been in deep darkness to-day. My heart has been full of blasphemy, such as I have scarcely ever known. I have even doubted the existence of God. But now I am relieved, and I would just say, I shall not go home to-morrow, as I hinted."

This temptation seems to have arisen chiefly from a discrepancy in the scriptures, which I had shewed him, and which I knew not how to reconcile. He begged that, for the present, I would by no means shew him another such.

Suspects himself to have been poisoned.

11. One of the neighbours brought Shidiak a letter, cautioning him, if he went to the shekh's house, not to smoke or drink with him.

12. Word came to Asaad, that the shekh was with the family below, and would be glad to see him. Asaad went down, but in a few minutes came up, pale and trembling, and said he was exceedingly dizzy and faint. He had just taken coffee below, attended with suspicious circumstances, and begged to know if he might not be poisoned. We opened a medical book we had, and explained to him, as rapidly as possible, the symptoms of a poisoned person. "Oh! these are my feelings," said he, and fell upon his knees before his seat in silent prayer. We immediately gave him an emetic, which operated well, and before night he was relieved of every alarming symptom. The youth who gave the coffee, being sent for, gave good evidence of having had no bad intentions; and notwithstanding many suspicious circumstances, we did not think the evidence of an attempt at poison sufficiently strong, to prosecute any public inquiry into the matter.

16. A youth from Der el Kamer called to see Asaad. He remarked, that he once saw a priest at his village tear in pieces five of these books of ours, but he could not tell for what reasons. He had, apparently, never seen the ten commandments before, and was very much surprised to find image-worship so expressly condemned in them. A letter was received by Asaad from the patriarch, written in very plausible terms.

Visits his Relatives at Hadet.

17. Four of the relatives of Asaad came down, and succeeded in persuading him to accompany them home. He said he could not believe, after all that has been said, that they would do him violence, and he strongly expected that his visit to Hadet would do good. A majority of us opposed his going with all we could say; but he thinks he knows the people here better than we do. He left us toward evening, expecting to be absent only a few days.

Their violence, and the consequent proceedings of Phares Shidiak.

24. Phares Shidiak came to my house to day, and wished to speak with me in private.

"Yesterday morning," said he, "as I was in my room reading the New Testament, my brother Mansoor entered, drew a sword he had, and gave me a blow upon the neck. I continued with the book in my hand, until one snatched it from me. Mansoor afterwards drew up his musket, threatening to shoot me; but my mother interfered to prevent him. My brother Tannoos hearing a bustle, came in with a cane, and began cudgelling me, without stopping to inquire at all into the merits of the case, calling out, 'Will you leave off your heresy, and go to church like other people, or not?' Mansoor not finding Asaad present, as he seemed to have expected, went to Asaad's chest which stood near me, seized all the books he had received of you, Hebrew, Syriac, Italian, and Arabic, tore them, one by one, in pieces, and strewed them on the floor.

"In the course of the day, I came down near where the soldiers of the emir are encamped, and passed the night in company with my brother Galeb. This morning he returned, with a line from me to Asaad, and I came off to Beyroot, with the full determination never to go home again. And now I will either go to some place in this country where I can enjoy my liberty or I will take ship, and leave the country altogether."

As he wished my advice, I counselled him neither to go from the country, nor from his home, but to return, and at least make a further trial of doing good to his relatives, and bearing their persecutions. He, however, continued inflexible.

In the space of a few hours, Galeb came in search of Phares, with a letter from Asaad, of which the following is a copy.

Asaad's letter to his brother Phares.

"To my beloved brother Phares; the Lord Most High preserve him. Your departure caused me great grief. First, because you were impatient when trial and persecution came upon you. It is a thing we are regularly to expect, that if we hope in God in this world, we shall give universal offence. But we have another city, for which we hope. Do not lose your courage, for you have not yet resisted unto blood, striving against sin. Remember, we cannot share in the glory of Christ, if we share not also in his sufferings. Therefore, rejoice whenever you are tried; rejoice, and never be sad; for our faith is sure.

"Secondly, I was grieved because you gave me no information where you were going, and what you intended to do. Now, it is not becoming, that we should do any thing rashly, that is, till we have prayed to God for direction. Come home, then, and let us set apart a season of fasting and prayer to God, and do what is most agreeable to him. Perhaps it is best to let our works preach in silence, in these evil days.

"You must know, that if you fail to come home, you will give us great pain, and this, you know, would be inconsistent with love. Jesus says, 'By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.' You well know how much joy and consolation it would give us to see you; do not then deny us this pleasure, but come at all events. If you do not come, it may be an injury both to yourself and me. I wish to see you, if it be only to say to you two words, and then act your pleasure; for not every word can be said with paper and pen. Farewell.

"Your brother and companion in tribulation,

ASAAD."

Galeb took me aside, and begged me to urge his brother to go home. I said I had already advised him to do so, but that I could not force him to go--that if he found he could not enjoy liberty of conscience, and the privilege of reading the word of God, in Hadet, he was welcome to stay with me as long as he pleased. "You are a man," said Galeb, "that speaks the truth and acts uprightly, but Asaad and Phares are not like you; they talk very improper things." Among these things, he mentioned a report to which Asaad had given circulation, respecting the patriarch, to which I was obliged to reply, that instead of taking it for granted to be a false report, he ought to believe it to be true, and that such a report was not abroad respecting the patriarch alone, but respecting a majority of patriarchs and bishops of the whole land.

After some further conversation on the wickedness of treating brothers, as they had done Phares and Asaad, we went to Phares, and endeavoured to persuade him to go home with his brother. But it was all in vain. "If I leave this house," said he, "instead of going to Hadet, I will go in the opposite direction." The brother returned without him.

Conversation of Phares with the Bishop of Beyroot.

After Galeb had gone, we put a great many questions to Phares, and he communicated some interesting particulars. Among others was the following:

"The day that Asaad and myself left you, (the 17th,) the bishop of Beyroot was at the next house, and I went to salute him.

"He said to me, 'I understand you have become English, too. You reason on the subject of religion.'

"But," said I, "is every one English, if he reasons on that subject?"

Bishop.--"But you read in the Bibles of the English."

Phares.--"Yes, and from whom is the Bible? is it from the English, or from God?"

B.--"But it is printed by the English."

P.--"Well, is it altered in any place?"

B.--"See, now you have begun again to argue on the subject of religion. I tell you, young man, cease this heretical habit, or you are excommunicated."

Phares informed us of three or four Bibles and New Testaments, that we had given at different times to individuals in Hadet, which had lately been destroyed by order of the bishop. This news, together with a discovery we yesterday made in the neighbouring house, of two covers of the New Testament, whose contents had long ago been torn out, shews us anew, if new evidence were wanting, that if the Gospel is ever introduced again in its power and purity into this country, it will be with a desperate struggle.

Two brothers of Phares, Mansoor and Galeb, came to converse with him anew. We saw them seated together on the ground, at a little distance from the house, but afterwards saw them no more. It is singular that Phares should have left without coming either to take his cloak, or bid us farewell.[J]

28. Having heard nothing particular directly from Asaad since he left, especially since the affair of the books, I yesterday sent him a line, and to-day received the following reply:

Letter from Asaad to Mr. Bird.

"Dear Sir,--After expressing imperfectly the love I bear you, and the desire I have to see you in all health, I have to say, that in due time your letter came to hand, and I read and understood it. You ask respecting our health. I answer, I am in a state of anxiety, but not so great as some days ago.

"On Thursday last, having come home from a visit to the emir Sulman, I found the remnants of the Holy Scriptures, torn in pieces, as there is reason to believe, by order of the bishop. When I was told, that my brother Mansoor had done this mischief, I returned to the emir, and informed him of the affair. He sent to call Mansoor, while I returned again to our house. I now learned, that my brother Phares had gone off. After searching for him some time, I went down to the inn in quest of him, but he was not to be found. As I was on my way returning from the inn, where I had gone in search of my brother, I prayed to God, that he would take every thing from me, if necessary, only let faith and love towards him remain in my heart.

"As I proceeded on, a man came up, and gave me information that all the consuls of Beyroot were slain, and that you also were slain with them. The report came from a man, who said he had deposited goods with you for safety. In order to be the more sure, I asked the man if it were really true, and he again assured me, that it was. Ask me not the state of my feelings at that moment.

"On reaching home, I heard this terrible news confirmed; at the same time looking out, and seeing the heap of ashes near the house, all that remained of the 11 copies of the holy scriptures which my brothers had destroyed, I burst into tears, and committed all my concerns into the hands of God, saying, 'Blessed be his holy name: the Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away;'--and so I prayed on, with tears and groanings, which I cannot describe.

"I afterwards heard, that Phares was probably in the neighbourhood, and set off to search after him by night, but found him not. When I heard the news of your death confirmed, I sent off a messenger, that, wherever Phares might be found, he might return; and when I received his letter, saying that he had gone to your house, I could not yet believe that the report respecting you was false.

"But when the truth on this subject began to appear, then I heard by a person who came to the yesterday evening, that the patriarch and the emir had made an agreement to kill me, and that they had sent men to lie in wait for that purpose. I was afterwards told, by another person, that some of the servants of the emir were appointed to accomplish this end.

"Here I am, then, in a sort of imprisonment, enemies within, and enemies without.

"One of my brothers, the other day, advised me to surrender my self entirely to the mercy of the bishop, whereupon I wrote the bishop a letter, (of which I send you the enclosed copy,) and gave it to my brother Tannoos, begging him to carry it to the bishop, and bring me his reply. Tannoos read the letter, and without saying a word, threw it down in contempt. I then gave it to my uncle with the same request, but as yet I have got no reply.[K]

"All my concerns I commit into the hands of God, who created me. Through the blood of our Lord Jesus Christ, I hope that all my distresses will be for the best.

"I accept with pleasure all your kind wishes, and send you many salutations in the Lord, and pray for you length of days.

"Yours, &c. ASAAD."

"March 27, 1826."

His relatives deliver him up to the Patriarch.

31. Information is received, that Asaad has been taken away against his will, to the patriarch.

April 4. Phares Shidiak arrived here in the evening direct from Der Alma, and said he had accompanied Asaad to that convent a week ago, that Asaad was still there, and that the patriarch, having in the morning set off for Cannobeen, would send down for Assad after a few days. He then handed me the following line from Asaad.

"If you can find a vessel setting off for Malta, in the course of four or five days, send me word; if not, pray for your brother.

ASAAD."

We were disposed to send off a messenger this very evening, but Phares said it would not be necessary.

Had some serious conversation with Phares, in which I exhorted him to continue reading the New Testament, and take particular notice of the general spirit of it; and then to judge, if all this deceit, confining, beating, and threatening to kill, was consistent with that spirit. We observed, that we supposed the patriarch and the bishop were well pleased with all the violence that Mansoor had used in this affair. "Yes," said Phares, "priest Hanna Stambodi, at Ain Warka, told me yesterday, that none of us had any religion, except Mansoor."

In a subsequent part of his journal, Mr. Bird records the following particulars respecting Asaad, during his last visit to Hadet, and when about to be violently removed from thence. They were received from Phares.

A neighbouring emir being sick, one day, Asaad carried him a paper of medicine, on the outside of which he had written how it was to be taken. While Asaad stood without, a servant took in this medicine, and gave it to the prince, saying, "This is from Asaad Esh Shidiak, and here he has written the directions on the paper." The prince, who is not remarkable for mildness, and perhaps was not conscious that Asaad overheard him, spoke out angrily, "A fig for the paper and writing; 'tis the medicine I want." "Your lordship is in the right," replied Asaad, "the truth is with you. The medicine is the thing; the paper that holds it, is nothing. So we ought to say of the gospel, the great medicine for the soul. 'Tis the pure gospel we want, and not the church that holds it."

After Mansoor, in his catholic zeal, had torn up and burned all his Bibles and Testaments, Asaad could not remain without the scriptures, but sent and obtained a copy from the little church, which he daily read, marking the most striking and important passages.

When his relatives, to the number of twenty or more, had assembled, and Asaad perceived they were come to take him to the patriarch by force, he began to expostulate with Tannoos, and besought him to desist from a step so inconsistent with fraternal love. He besought in vain. Tannoos turned away from him with a cold indifference. Affected with his hardness, Asaad went aside, and wept and prayed aloud.

The evening before he was taken away, he said to those who had assembled, "If I had not read the gospel, I should have been surprised at this new movement of yours. But now it is just what I might have expected. In this blessed book, I am told, the brother shall deliver up the brother to death, and a man's foes shall be they of his own household. Here you see it is just so. You have come together to fulfil this prophecy of the gospel. What have I done against you? What is my crime? Allowing that I do take the Bible as my only and sufficient guide to heaven, what sin is there in this?" During the evening, he laid himself down to sleep, as he was to set off early in the morning. But he was often interrupted; for, whenever he caught a word of false doctrine from the lips of those who continued their conversation, he would rise up, refute them, and again compose himself to rest. One of his uncles, speaking of his going to the patriarch, said in a great rage, "If you don't go off with us peaceably, we will take your life." Asaad replied, "Softly, softly, my dear uncle, don't be hasty. Blessed are the meek."

Phares wrote a letter this evening to Asaad, in a hand that had been agreed on between them, saying, that if he would come to Beyroot, he need not fear, and that it might be a matter for further consideration whether he should leave the country.

5. The letter of Phares was sent off by a moslem, who returned at evening, saying that when he arrived at the convent, he was accosted by two or three men, inquiring his business, telling him he was a Greek, and had letters from the English. They then seized him, and took the letter by force, and, had he not shewn them that he was a moslem, would have probably sent him to the emir of the district for further examination. They then asked him some questions about the English, and assured him that after eight days Asaad would no longer be a living man. Thus were our hopes of a second deliverance of this sufferer of persecution, for the present, blasted. After all the threats, which have been thrown out without being put in execution, we rather hope, that this last will prove like the rest; yet we cannot tell how far their hatred of the truth may, with the divine forbearance, carry them. We leave all with him, in whose hands our life and breath are, and whose are all our ways, with the humble hope, that light may yet arise out of darkness, and that much glory may be added to his name, from this evident work of Satan.

6. Sent word, in a blind hand, on a torn scrap of paper, to Phares respecting the fate of our message to his brother. He returns answer that he is coming to Beyroot to-morrow.

7. Phares came, according to his notice of yesterday, saying, that if the patriarch should get his letter to Asaad, there would be danger in his staying at Hadet. He should be glad to go to Malta, or almost any other place out of the Maronite influence, lest his brothers should seize him, and deliver him up to the fury of the patriarch, as they had done his brother Asaad. Mansoor, the eldest and most violent of them, when he heard, yesterday, that a letter had arrived for Phares from Beyroot, breathed out threatenings and slaughter, not only against Phares, but against the innocent messenger himself.

8. Wrote to ----, a friendly Maronite bishop, to give me whatever information he might be able to procure respecting Shidiak.

May 10. A messenger whom we sent to Cannobeen, returned with the report that he was denied the privilege of seeing Asaad, under pretence that he was going through a course of confession, during which the rule is, that the person so confessing, shall pass his time, for a number of days, alone, and see no company.

14. We were, to-day, credibly informed, that Shidiak is still firm in his adherence to the gospel, but that he was kept under rigid inspection, not being permitted to step out of his room without an attendant.

17. Phares Shidiak informed us to-day, that he had been told that his brother Asaad had been at the college of Ain Warka. He thought it might be true, as one object in delivering him up to the patriarch was, to give the people the general impression, that he had no longer any thing to do with the English. He had now been a sufficient time absent from us to give general currency to the report, that he was no longer with us, and now, perhaps, the patriarch had let him go free.

Asaad is cruelly treated.

27. The messenger, who went before to Cannobeen, had set out to go for us a second time, and this morning early returned with the following story:--Being met by a man near Batroon, whom he suspected to be from Cannobeen, he inquired him out, and found him to be a messenger sent by Asaad himself to his uncles and other connexions, to beg them to come and deliver him. Asaad saw the man, and gave him his commission from the window of the convent, without the knowledge of the patriarch, or the others in his service. This messenger said, that Asaad was in close confinement, in chains, and was daily beaten; and that the great cause of complaint against him was, that he refused to worship either the pictures, or the virgin Mary.

I had written a letter of mere salutation to Shidiak by my messenger, which letter he enclosed in one from himself, and sent it on by his brother, returning himself with the messenger from Asaad. This brother of his, he is much afraid, may be ill-treated by the patriarch.

28. J., the messenger, called, and said, that he himself should not go to Cannobeen, but twelve or fifteen of his other relatives would go and endeavour at least to save him from chains and stripes. J. had been to the emir Beshir the less, who lives at Hadet, begging him, (with a present) to save his brother, if it should prove that he had suffered by the suspicion or the resentment of the patriarch. The emir promised to interfere--"But why," said he, "should Asaad go and join the English? they are a people I do not love."

June 2. A youth of the neighbourhood said it was reported that Asaad was a complete maniac; that he rent his garments, raved, reviled, &c. and that he had been sent to the convent at Koshia, like other lunatics, for a miraculous cure. This news was brought by priest Bernardus, of Gzir, mentioned in Shidiak's statement.

3. The brother of J. about whom he was so solicitous, returned last evening in safety, with the following letter in Asaad's own hand writing.

"To our respected brother J. ----. After expressing my love to you, I have to say, that your letter by your brother ----, arrived in safety, and I have understood it. In it you and ----, inquire after my health. May the Lord pour out his grace upon you, and follow you with his blessings. As to me, I am at present in health, with regard to my body, but as to other circumstances, your brother will give you information. Love to cousin ----, your wife. Pray send me word respecting you every opportunity, and may the Lord lengthen your days. From your brother.

"ASAAD ESH SHIDIAK."

This letter is certainly genuine, and is a full proof of what nature the insanity is, under which he labours. It has greatly relieved the anxiety we felt from the report of yesterday.

From the verbal account, given by the lad who brought the letter, the following are selected as the most important particulars. He entered the convent on his arrival, and seeing nobody but the keeper of the prison-room, obtained leave to go in, and see Asaad alone. He found him sitting on the bare floor, with a heavy chain around his neck, and firmly fastened at the other end into the wall. His bed had been removed together with all his books and writing materials, and (what is considered here the extreme of privation,) he was left without a pipe.

The lad continued with him an hour or two, without being discovered by any one but the keeper. During the conversation, Asaad observed, that not long since he was sent to Koshia, as a man possessed of a devil, and that he escaped from that place and had arrived near Tripoli, when he was taken by a party of Maronites, and brought back to the patriarch. He had, since that time, been kept regularly at Cannobeen, subject occasionally to beating and insult, from such as might call in to see the heretic. We understood the man to say, that the patriarch even instructed the common people to spit in his face, and call him by odious names, in order to shame him into submission. Asaad gave his advice that we should either send some one with a horse, and get him away by stealth, or get the consul to interfere by writing to the pasha. The letter written by Asaad was done through the contrivance of his keeper for a small reward.

Attempts made to procure his release.

After hearing all this, we went directly to the consul to inform him of the case, and to urge him to an interference. He consented, that we should first procure some one to write a firm and consistent letter to the patriarch, demanding by what right he had taken a man from an English employer, and under English protection, and imprisoned him unheard, &c. intimating, that if the man was not soon given up, something more would be done.

Toward evening, J. came again to inquire what we had concluded on. When he found what step we had taken, he seemed much alarmed for his own safety, and begged us not to proceed, for he should be immediately suspected as the mediator of the affair, and should be in danger of being persecuted as such. He mentioned, as a justification of his fears, that the keeper overheard Asaad when he recommended that course to his brother, and that the keeper, when inquired of, would of course mention the fact to the patriarch. Instead of the measure we were about taking, he recommended to apply to the emir, through one of his relatives, who was our mutual friend, and to this we consented. It is, however, probable, that the object of J. is not so much to avoid danger, as to put his friend the emir in a way to get a small present.

5. J. has been to see the emir, in order to persuade him to intercede with his uncle, the emir Beshir, but the former was not at home, and therefore the latter was not consulted. J. then went to the emir M. but found him quite averse to do any thing, saying, that to liberate a man, who had become English, would never do. He next saw Mansoor, the brother, and asked him if he knew that Asaad was in close confinement. "Yes," answered he, "and he may end his days there, unless he can learn to behave himself better." One characteristic mark of a heathen is, that he is "without natural affection, implacable, unmerciful."

J. says, that his brother has told him in addition, that Asaad himself, on the whole, wished not to have the consul interfere, but that some one might, for the present, be sent every week or two, to see how he got along, and in the mean time, he hoped to make his own escape, for that only a few days before, he had loosed himself from his chains, and got out of the convent, but not understanding the path, he became afraid to proceed, and returned of his own accord.

6. Went again to confer with the consul with regard to Asaad. When we mentioned the fact, that Asaad was under a sort of oath of obedience to the patriarch, an agreement which all make who are educated from the funds of the Ain Warka college, he seemed to think differently of the case, because, though an oath to bind the conscience, as in this case, can never be binding, and is neither acknowledged by Turks or English, yet, in the opinion of all Maronites, it justifies what the patriarch has done. This English protection, they would say, is of no avail, since he was under a previous engagement to serve the patriarch. The consul thinks the case, if presented to the chief emir, would be rejected without consideration, on the ground, that it was ecclesiastical, and not civil; and if presented to the pasha, he would exact fines from many innocent convents, and other wise oppress them, without perhaps, after all, procuring the release of the prisoner. He would prefer some secret mode of effecting the object.

Priest Bernardus, of Gzir, already mentioned was on a visit to the family below, and sent up to beg the favour of a sight at Shidiak's statement. I at first refused, but on a second application, and being assured that the priest was a friend of Shidiak, I consented, and invited the man to come and take with me a cup of coffee, which he did. It will be observed, that this Bernardus was one of those, who wished Shidiak to say that his faith was like that of the Roman catholic church, although it should be a falsehood, saying that the patriarch would bestow on him a pardon for the lie. The priest acknowledged to the family below, that Shidiak's statement of that affair was correct.

14. Received a line from the friendly Maronite bishop, to whom I had written, (April 8,) who says that he has been assured, probably afresh, that Shidiak is in prison, and suffers beating.

15. The emir A. came and conversed a length of time on the case of Shidiak. I offered to reward him well for his trouble, if he would procure his release, which he has promised to attempt.

21. J. came to say, that he had never seen the emir A. who had endeavoured to persuade his uncle to write to the patriarch. The uncle, however, refused, but added, "You may write in my name, and say, that it is my pleasure, that Shidiak should be liberated." The messenger has, therefore, gone with such a letter.

22. This morning, came Tannoos Shidiak, accompanied by a young emir, saying, that they had knowledge of our attempt to liberate Asaad, through the medium of the emir A. "It will not do," said he, "you will not accomplish your object so." They both said, that the emir A. was a great liar, had a little mind, and little, if any, influence with his uncle. In short, they proposed a more excellent way, viz. that we should give them also a good reward to engage in this noble work of brotherly love.

24. The messenger from the emir A. arrived from Cannobeen, with the following letter from the patriarch, in answer to his own.

"After kissing the hands of your honourable excellency, &c. &c. With regard to your slave, Asaad Esh Shidiak, the state into which he is fallen, is not unknown to your excellency. His understanding is subverted. In some respects he is a demoniac, in others not. Every day his malady increases upon him, until I have been obliged to take severe measures with him, and put him under keepers, lest he should escape from here, and grow worse, and infuse his poison into others. Two days ago, he succeeded in getting away in the night, and obliged me to send men to bind him and bring him back; and after he was come, he showed signs of returning sanity, and begged to be forgiven. But he does not abide by his word, for he is very fickle; and the most probable opinion respecting him is, that he is possessed of the devil. However, as he was, to appearance, disposed to yield me obedience, I treated him kindly and humanely, and used every means to promote his permanent cure. This is what I have to communicate to your excellency, and the bearer will inform you further. Whatever your excellency commands, I obey, and the Lord lengthen your life.

JOSEPH, Patriarch of Antioch."

27. A youth from Ain Warka informed us, that he had seen a letter in Asaad's own hand-writing, saying, that he had yielded obedience to the patriarch, and professed again the faith of the Roman catholic church. This report, excited great joy, he says, at the college. We are rather pained by the news, because, if Asaad has done this, we are almost sure it has been done insincerely, and merely to escape the pains of his persecution. The same person says, that a relative of the patriarch at Cannobeen, has been in the habit of writing, every week or two, to the college, to give the news of what was done with Asaad from time to time, in which he spoke of his chains and stripes, and so on. He also observes, that many people have boldly questioned the right of the patriarch to proceed to such extremities with the members of his church, saying, they saw not, at this rate, which was chief governor of the mountains, the prince, or the patriarch.

July 1. One who seemed certain of delivering Shidiak, if he should set about it, went, with our recommendation to Tripoli, from which place he hopes to have a convenient communication with Cannobeen.

14. The youth who went to Tripoli to attempt something, came back unsuccessful.

17. Application has been made by Phares to the emir M., but he refused to do any thing for Asaad, alleging that it is an affair of religion, and belongs exclusively to the patriarch. Phares says, that notwithstanding the superstition and anger, which his mother exhibited when here, she has more than once said, that the English are better than the Maronites, for they take an interest in the fate of Asaad, while the Maronites all seem to care nothing about him, whether he is dead or alive, happy or wretched.

Phares, as well as others, says, that Tannoos is Asaad's enemy from jealousy. Asaad is younger than Tannoos, but has been much more noticed. This Tannoos could not bear, and has therefore been quite willing to see him disgraced and punished.

Phares observes, that Tannoos was quite as favourably disposed to protestant principles as Asaad, but the moment Asaad took the start of him, he fell back, and is a much firmer Maronite than ever. He seemed to be affected at the death of Mr. Fisk, but inferred from it, that God did not approve the efforts of the protestants in this country. The death of Mr. Dalton, also, his former pupil, probably confirmed this feeling.

Great difficulties in the way of Asaad's release.

18. Tannoos came to converse about his brother Asaad. He had just received a letter in Asaad's own hand-writing, saying, that he was reduced to a great extremity of distress, and perhaps had not long to live, and begging Tannoos to come up and see if nothing could be done to end or mitigate his sufferings. Tannoos declares that he would be very glad to get him away from Cannobeen, if he could be safe, but that in any other place in the dominions of the emir Beshir, he would be killed. He might be safe at the consul's, but with me, he would not be. "There are men in these mountains," said he, "that can kill and have killed patriarchs and emirs, and that in their own houses; and why could they not kill Asaad with you, if they chose? Is your house more secure than the convent of the patriarch, or the palace of the emir? A man in entering your house, would violate all law, but the English would not make war for the killing of a single man."

I observed, that an application would very possibly be made to the pasha, by the consul, if Asaad was not soon delivered up. "An application of that sort," replied T. "would be quite useless. The pasha would send the application to the emir, and do you not think the emir would arrange the affair as he pleased? He knows well this sort of dealing. He has known how to manage these mountains for forty years, and do you think he would be at a loss about such a trifle as this? For example, what would be more easy for the emir, if he chose to detain the man, than to say he had committed murder, and therefore could not be given up?" "But," said I, "such a charge must be established by competent witnesses, and under the consul's inspection." "True," replied he, "and where would be the difficulty in that? The emir would bring 500 witnesses to-morrow to establish any crime he was pleased to allege. And as to his fearing the pasha, though he holds his office under him, yet his power is even superior to the pasha's."----"The patriarch," continued Tannoos, "can do just what he chooses, in spite of the English. You have brought books here, and the patriarch has burned them in spite of you. He has issued to all denominations a proclamation full of lies against you, and what have you been able to do? You have indeed written a reply to the proclamation, and hold it up to the people, and say, 'Look how the patriarch lies about us;' but what does he care for all that."

So talks a Lebanon mountaineer, of more sense, information and truth, than most others, respecting the moral character and godly fear of his patriarch and prince.

His family attempt his liberation.

19. Phares brought us a letter, which had just been received by the family at Hadet, from the patriarch, wishing them to come immediately to Cannobeen. Tannoos and his mother have gone, and intend, if possible, to bring Asaad away, either to Kesroan, or to Hadet. The mother insisted on going, and wished to pass through Beyroot on her way, that she might consult us before she went; but this was not permitted her.

The above mentioned letter, in English, runs thus:--"After telling you how much I desire to see you in all health and prosperity, I send you news respecting the wretch Asaad Esh Shidiak, otherwise called lord of hell. His obduracy, with which you are acquainted, has exceedingly increased. It is not unknown to you, how much care I have bestowed on him for his good, how much I have laboured for his salvation, and under what severe discipline I have put him; and all to no effect. And now, as might be expected, he has fallen ill, and therefore can no longer run away, according to his custom, and we have been thus constrained to take off the severity of our treatment. But fearing lest his disease should increase upon him, I have sent you word, that you may come and see how he is, and consult what is best to be done with him. Make no delay, therefore, in coming, and the apostolic blessing be upon you."

This attempt of his family to effect his liberation failed, for some reason unknown; and he continued immured in prison, suffering persecution. He was confined in a small room with an iron collar round his neck fastened to the wall with a strong chain. In October, 1826, another attempt was made to effect the liberation of Asaad. The civil authorities were consulted, but could not be prevailed upon to enlist in his behalf. In November, 1826, however, he effected his escape, but was soon arrested, and treated more cruelly than ever.

In the Herald for April, 1828, we find the following history of Asaad from the time he was betrayed into the hands of the patriarch till the spring of 1826. It is thus prefaced by Mr. Bird, one of the missionaries.

"This account of our suffering friend, though by no means complete, may nevertheless be relied on as authentic, and is by far the most full and satisfactory account which we have been able to obtain. It was sent us, as you will see in the journal, by the friendly young shekh, Naami Latoof, who, some time previous, spent a few weeks in our families, and whose heart seems to have been touched with the truths of the gospel. The priest, who has proved so great a benefactor to Asaad, is a relative of the shekh, and they have grown up together from childhood on the most intimate terms of familiarity and friendship. Many of the occurrences here related, the priest found written among the monks, who pass their time idly with the patriarch, and to many he was an eye-witness. The account was drawn up under his own inspection. He seems a man unusually conscientious for an Arab, unusually open to conviction in argument, and has promised to do his utmost to save Asaad from further abuse, and in the end to deliver him from his state of confinement. Thus, while all our own efforts have failed of essentially benefitting the poor man, the Lord, without any of our instrumentality, has raised up a friend from the midst of his persecutors, who has already saved him from impending death, and we hope and pray, will soon open the way for his complete deliverance from this Syrian Inquisition."

Brief history of Asaad Esh Shidiak, from the time of his being betrayed into the hands of the Maronite Patriarch, in the spring of 1826.

=Translated from the Arabic of Naami Latoof.=

When the relatives of Asaad brought him to the convent of Alma in the district of Kesroan, and gave him up to the patriarch, the latter began by way of flattery to promise him all the worldly advantages he could bestow; but withal demanding that he should put away all the heretical notions, and all the corrupt knowledge, which the Bible-men, those enemies of the pope, had taught him. He replied, "These things which you hold out to me, are to me of no value. I no longer trouble myself about them, for they are vain and of short duration. Every christian is bound to think, and labour, and strive to be accounted worthy to hear that blessed welcome, 'Come ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.' As to rejecting from my mind those things which I have learned from the Bible-men, I have to say, that, for many years, I had read, occasionally, the holy scriptures, which are able to make us wise unto salvation, but could not live according to them; for I was given to the indulgence of all wicked passions: but since my acquaintance with these men, I see myself, through the merits of my Saviour, possessed of a new heart, though it is not yet, I confess, in all respects such as I could wish it to be."

During the few days they remained in the Kesroan, the patriarch shewed him every attention, and suffered no one to oppose his opinions saying, "The protestants, by the great sums they have given him, have blinded his eyes, and inclined him to join them, and diffuse their poisonous sentiments, so that he cannot, at once, be brought to leave them. Let him alone for the present, do nothing to oppose or to offend him, until we shall arrive at Cannobeen, where we may examine into his faith and state at our leisure, and if we find that he still clings to his heresy, we then can do with him as circumstances may require." After a short time they proceeded with him to Cannobeen, and there began to use arguments to convince him of his errors, and persuade him to confess and forsake them, and embrace whatever the councils and the church had enacted;--requiring that he should surrender his conscience to the holy catholic church, and bless all whom she blessed, and curse all whom she cursed; and this they did in the most stern and threatening manner. He replied, "It has been said, by the mouth of the Holy One, Bless and curse not." They still pressed him to yield his opinions, but he said, "I can give up nothing, nor can I believe any thing but as it is written in the holy scriptures; for in these is contained all doctrines necessary to salvation."--"But," said they, "is every thing then, worthless, that has been ordained by the councils and the fathers?" He answered, "The councils may have enacted laws good for themselves, but we are not bound to follow them."

After urging him, day after day, to no purpose, they finally asked in despair, "Are you then still of the same sentiment?" "Of the same sentiment," said he; "I still believe and hold whatever is written in the holy scriptures, and neither more nor less." "Will every one, then, who reads the gospel, be saved?" "By no means;--but as it is written, 'he that hath my commands and keepeth them, he it is that loveth me.'" "It is the duty of every person to possess the gospel, and read it?" "Yes, it is the duty of every one. 'For,' said Paul, 'if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost, in whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel should shine unto them.'" They then reviled him, and spurned him away from their sight, and began to meditate measures of violence against him. He was separated from all around him, and compelled to take his meals by himself; and lest he should attempt to escape, a person was set over him to keep him under a constant watch. He was made to feel himself in the lowest state of disgrace, all taking the fullest liberty to reproach and ridicule him.

From this state of debasement he soon began to meditate his escape. Accordingly, one evening, just as the sun had set, and while his keeper's eye was off him, he fled. An immediate and diligent search was made for him, but he could not be found until the second day, when he was discovered still hiding in a grove near by, for he was totally ignorant of the way he ought to take. They brought him immediately to the patriarch. When he arrived, he was met by reproaches and revilings, and the servants, by order of the patriarch beat him, and put him into confinement. This was at Diman, a pleasant, airy situation belonging to Cannobeen, and about an hour's distance from it. Soon after this, he was taken up to the latter place, when he was left a little more at large, but was always under the watch of a keeper.

One evening, when all had gone in the chapel for prayers, he lay as if he had been asleep, and the monk, his keeper, thinking him really so, went in with the rest, but took with him, as a precaution, Asaad's silver inkhorn, supposing that if he should wake, and think of escaping, he would not be willing to leave behind him so valuable an article. When Asaad saw that all were gone, knowing the length of their prayers, he at once left the convent, and ran about an hour's distance. People were despatched in search of him with all diligence, but they returned without finding him. On account of his ignorance of the way, he remained secreted near the road till the day broke, when he continued his flight until he had reached the distance of three hours or more from his prison, when a couple of men in the service of the patriarch, having been apprized of his escape by the pursuers during the night, discovered him, and called out, "Who are you? Are you Asaad?" He replied, "I am Asaad." They at once took him into custody, and brought him back, but without any violence or indignity, to the patriarch. A different treatment, however, awaited him at the convent. He had no sooner reached it, than they covered him with insult, beating him, and mocking him, and saying, "fool that you are, why did you answer to your name?" He replied, "God has laid a curse upon the lying mouth, and therefore I cannot use it." They said, "If you do not return to your faith, and hold to all that has been ordained by the church and the fathers, you are ruined. You will die under your tortures, and go to perdition." He replied, "Whoever shall call on the name of the Lord shall be saved. I am willing to expose myself to every indignity and suffering for the sake of Him who loved us, and shed his precious blood for our salvation. These things I am bound to say and do, and I am bound to exhort you also, as beloved friends." When he had said this, they all laughed him to scorn, called him a madman, and were about to beat him for attempting, as they pretended, to make heretics of them also. When he saw their anger, he cried out, "Why are you enraged at me, and what are you about to do to me? I am a dying man like yourselves, and preach unto you that you should turn from your vanities unto the living God, who made heaven, and earth, and the sea, and all that are therein." They then renewed their cries that he was mad, and thrust him into his prison room, and locked the door upon him, and strict orders were given that no one should say any thing to him more or less. In this state he remained for some days. The patriarch then sent to him to inquire after his faith, especially respecting his trust in the images of the church, declaring to him that without faith in these, he could not be saved. He replied, "Let no man beguile you of your reward in a voluntary humility and worshipping of angels." They brought him proofs from the councils, that images were used by the fathers, and ought to be set up and worshipped in the churches, in honour of the saints, and to obtain their intercession. He answered, "I will also bring you proof from the councils, that the worship of images, and all use of them in the churches, was forbidden and reprobated by the fathers." Here they contradicted him. "Be it as it may," said he, "it is impossible for me to follow the opinions of any man or set of men., and leave the word of God behind me. This word tells me, that 'forasmuch as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art or man's device.'" The messengers then quit him, and made their report to the patriarch, who left him in his prison for a considerable time, in the most abject and suffering state.

In process of time, certain individuals, possessed of a little humanity, became interested in his situation, sympathized in his sufferings, interceded for him, and procured liberty to open the prison door, so that any one who chose could go in and see him without restraint. Again he began to meditate an attempt to escape, and on a certain evening, set off from the convent. But, as before, his ignorance of the proper path to escape in, prevented the accomplishment of his purpose. He soon saw the lighted torches streaming off in every direction in search of him, and to avoid his pursuers, turned aside a short distance, and climbed into a tree. From this situation he did not dare to come down till the night was fairly gone, when he shifted the position of his clothes, turning his cloak inside out, using his turban for a girdle and his girdle for a turban, and took his way. He had, however, not proceeded far, when one of the patriarch's men discovered him, and called out, "Asaad is it you?" He answered, "it is I." The man immediately caught him, like a greedy wolf, bound him, beat him, and drove him before him, as a slave, or a brute, to Cannobeen. On their way they were met by many others who had been sent off in quest of him, who all united with the captor in his brutal treatment. On his arrival, the patriarch gave immediate orders for his punishment, and they fell upon him with reproaches, caning him and smiting him with their hands; and so it was, that as often as they struck him on one cheek, he turned to them the other also. "This," said he, "is a joyful day to me. My blessed Lord and Master has said, 'Bless them that curse you, and if they strike you on the right cheek turn to them the left also.' This I have been enabled to do, and I am ready to suffer even more than this for him, who was beaten, and spit upon, and led as a sheep to the slaughter, on our account." When they heard this, they fell to beating him anew saying, "Have we need of your preaching, thou deceiver? Of what avail are such pretensions in one who is in the broad way to perdition?" He replied, "he that believeth that Jesus Christ is the Son of God, hath eternal life." "Ah," said they, "this is what blinds you. Your salvation is by faith alone in Christ; thus you cast contempt on his mother, and his saints; you deny the presence of his holy body on earth;"--and they threw him on the ground, overwhelmed with the multitude of their blows. For three successive days, he was subjected to the bastinado, by order of the patriarch, who, after that, summoned him to his presence, and demanded of him his faith. "I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus of Nazareth." Those present exhorted him to acknowledge the intercession of the saints, and to repair to them for help in this hour of trial. But he refused, saying, "My help is in him who shed his blood for sinners." "But have the saints," said they, "no intercession, and is it vain to worship them, and pray to them?" He said, "We are not taught to seek help or protection from any, but from him who is the Great Shepherd, who has said with his own blessed mouth, 'Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.' To any other than God, we are not commanded to pray or seek for refuge."

They then returned him to his prison as before. Those who sympathized with him, went and begged him to confess that the canons of the councils were binding on all Christians, and that the images were very properly made use of in the churches. He answered, "Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools, and changed the glory of the incorruptible God into an image made like unto corruptible man." At this they turned away from him in despair and disgust, and reported to the patriarch that he was in the most settled state of obstinacy, and was doubtless possessed of a devil.

Upon this, the patriarch ordered him to be put in chains, and the door to be barred upon him, as formerly, and his food to be given him in short allowance. In this condition he remained till he was much reduced, and began to entreat them to have pity on him and take off the irons from his feet, and open the door of his prison. Some were moved by his supplications, interceded for him, unbarred the door, took off his chains, and left him. He arose, walked out, and sat down with one of them and conversed. He then begged the patriarch to give him some books to copy, to rid himself of the tedium of his idleness. But he refused, nor would he suffer any to hold conversation with him.

After some days, there came into the convent two men, in the character of beggars, and wished to pass the night, but were turned away. That same night Asaad made another attempt to escape. As soon as it was discovered that he was gone, a vigorous search was made to find him, but all to no purpose. The universal cry now was, that the two men already mentioned had been sent by the protestants to steal him away for a large reward. Immediately his holiness, the patriarch, sent letters to the emeer Abdallah informing him of Asaad's escape, and requesting him to guard the roads of the Kesroan, and search the neighbourhood, if possibly Asaad might still be found lurking in that district. Accordingly search was made, Asaad was discovered among his relatives by a couple of soldiers, was bound, and taken off to the emeer, who sent him direct to the patriarch.

On his arrival, he was loaded with chains, cast into a dark, filthy room, and bastinadoed, every day, for eight days, sometimes fainting under the operation, until he was near death. He was then left in his misery, his bed a thin flag mat, his covering his common clothes. The door of his prison was filled up with stone and mortar, and his food was six thin cakes of bread a day, and a scanty cup of water. In this loathsome dungeon, from which there was no access but a small loop hole, through which they passed his food, he lay for several days; and he would lift up his voice, and cry, "Love ye the Lord Jesus Christ according as he hath loved us, and given himself to die for us. Think of me, O ye that pass by, have pity upon me, and deliver me from these sufferings."

Now when his groans and cries were thus heard, a certain priest, who had been a former friend of Asaad, was touched with compassion. His former friendship revived, his bowels yearned over his suffering brother, and he besought every one who could speak with the patriarch, that they would intercede and endeavour to soften his feelings towards his prisoner. By dint of perseverance, the priest at length succeeded, and obtained permission to open the prison door of his friend and take off his irons. The first request he made of the priest on his entering, was, that he would give him a little food, for he was famishing with hunger. The priest immediately brought him a little bread and cooked victuals, which he ate, and said, "The name of the Lord be blessed."

Those present began to exhort him to turn to the mother of God, if, peradventure, she would have mercy upon him, and bring him back to the way of salvation. He answered, "If she has the power of intercession, let her intercede for us with her beloved Son." The priest was very assiduous in supplying him with every thing necessary for his comfort; in particular he obtained the return of his clothes, of which he had been partly stripped; for the snow was upon the ground, and the cold filled him with pains.

Now when the others saw the care and attention of the priest, they said, "You have become a convert to his heretical opinions." But he replied, "God has said, 'Blessed are the merciful;'" and continued firm in his purpose. His assiduity was such, that whenever he left the convent for any time, he would give money to the cook to prevail on him to supply Asaad with proper food, and to attend upon him in whatever he might need. The enemies of the priest accused him to the patriarch, but they could not succeed in their object, for the priest is of blameless morals, and has a good name among all.

The priest now passed much of his time in company with Asaad, and conversed with him freely. On a certain occasion they began to converse on the subject of the cross, the priest saying it ought to be worshipped. Asaad replied, "For what reason? and where is the use of it?" The priest said, "In memory of the Saviour." Asaad,--"Why do you kiss the cross, and who has commanded it?" Priest,--"We kiss it in honour of him who hung upon it." Asaad.--"But why then do you not paint the ass also, and pay it all obeisance, and all honours, for our Saviour, when he rode upon the ass, was in all honour, and all paid him obeisance; but when he was on the cross, he was in sorrow and disgrace." The priest reproved him gently for returning such an answer, and when he saw that the priest was displeased, he said, "On account of your love to me, and the favour you have done me, I wish to prove to you this point, that all religious reverence and worship and service to any but God, is vain; for it is said, 'He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life,' and I have to beg of you, that you will continually search the holy scriptures, and pray as David prayed, 'Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.'" During this time, one of their enemies was standing without the door, and listened to the whole conversation. This man went immediately, to the patriarch, and told him all that he had heard, and that the priest was conversing with Asaad in so gentle a manner, that he was likely soon to be won over to heresy. His holiness was startled at the intelligence, and hastening down inquired the truth of the report. Asaad concealed nothing. The patriarch, however, at first, repressed his own feelings, and exhorted him in the most winning manner he could assume, promising that if he would but return to the holy church and fathers and councils, worship the images, and saints, and the mother of God, he would again immediately make him his secretary. He replied, "With regard to the opinions which I hold, I assure you I wish to hold none which are opposed to the word of God; and as to resorting to the virgin Mary, I say, as I have before said, that if she has any power of intercession, let her intercede for us. As to giving up my opinions to the church and councils, how can I do it, so long as I am possessed of satisfactory evidence that these councils are opposed to one another? We are in no need of the councils, but have sufficient light without them to guide us in the way of salvation. Moreover I can say, that I do surrender my opinions to the holy catholic church, for I profess the faith of the church of Christ, and unite my conscience with it."

The patriarch could no longer restrain his feelings, but broke out in the language of reproach, saying, "You are a worthless fellow, obstinately bent on maintaining your folly. I give you to understand that I am clear of your guilt. You will not be taught, but love to shew your contempt of the cross, and of the worship of the images, whose worship is only in honour of those to whose memory they are set up, and who laboured and died in the service of Christ." Asaad replied, "With regard to worshipping such things as these, it is said, 'Thou shalt worship the Lord thy God, and him only shalt thou serve;' and as to those who laboured and shed their blood for the Saviour, they are above our honours, for they have gone to inherit unspeakable glory in their master's presence." The patriarch was more angry than ever, and taking off his slipper, beat both him and the priest, and drove the latter from the room, and locked the door.

After six days of additional confinement, the friendly priest again procured his release from his prison, and obtained the favour of taking the entire oversight of him. In this condition the persecuted man remains. May the Most High grant him speedy deliverance.

Feb. 15th, 1827.

* * * * *

The latest accounts from Palestine state that Asaad is still in confinement, but remains firm to the principles he has embraced. In a letter from Mr. Goodell, dated April, 1830, we find the following sentence.--"Asaad Shidiak is still alive, and there is every reason to believe that he loves and obeys the truth, that he is sanctified by it, rooted and grounded in it, and ready to suffer for it." We take our leave of this interesting narrative, commending the suffering subject of it to God, and the word of his grace, accounting him more blessed if he perseveres steadfast unto the end, than if his brows were endowed with an imperial diadem.

FOOTNOTES:

[E] The Papists receive these books as of equal divine authority with the books of the Old Testament.--ED.

[F] This he actually proposed, but the patriarch would not listen to the proposal a moment.

[G] "He causeth all--to receive a mark," &c. "and no man might buy or sell save he that had the mark or the name of the beast." The patriarch was also clothed in scarlet, like the woman on the scarlet coloured beast.

[H] See Rev. xiii. 13

[I] When he first came to Beyroot, this same sentence was dictated to him, and it appeared in his eyes so much like blasphemy, that he refused to write it.

[J] We afterwards ascertained, that he was decoyed off to a distance, as if for walk, and when he would have returned, was prevented by force.

[K] This letter was a mere tissue of testimonies, brought from the fathers, and from the scriptures, condemning the worship of images.

Chapter XIX: Persecutions Of The Baptist Missionaries In India, During The Year

CHAPTER IX.

PERSECUTIONS OF THE BAPTIST MISSIONARIES IN INDIA, DURING THE YEAR 1824.

Account of the Scenes at Ava during the War.

Mr. and Mrs. Judson were among the number of the first missionaries who left this country for India. After labouring for some time in Hindostan they finally established themselves at Rangoon in the Burman Empire, in 1813. In 1824 war broke out between the British East India Company and the emperor of Burmah. Mr. and Mrs. Judson and Dr. Price, who were at Ava, the capital of the Burman Empire, when the war commenced, were immediately arrested and confined for several months. The account of the sufferings of the missionaries was written by Mrs. Judson, and is given in her own words.

The sufferings of the missionaries, during this long and disastrous period, surpassed all that the most alarmed and fertile imagination had conceived. Of the dreadful scenes at Ava, a minute account was written by Mrs. Judson to Dr. Elnathan Judson. It will be read with strong and painful interest. Fiction itself has seldom invented a tale more replete with terror.

"Rangoon, May 26, 1826.

"My beloved Brother,

"I commence this letter with the intention of giving you the particulars of our captivity and sufferings at Ava. How long my patience will allow my reviewing scenes of disgust and horror, the conclusion of this letter will determine. I had kept a journal of every thing that had transpired from our arrival at Ava, but destroyed it at the commencement of our difficulties.

"The first certain intelligence we received of the declaration of war by the Burmese, was on our arrival at Tsenpyoo-kywon, about a hundred miles this side of Ava, where part of the troops, under the command of the celebrated Bandoola, had encamped. As we proceeded on our journey, we met Bandoola himself, with the remainder of his troops, gaily equipped, seated on his golden barge, and surrounded by a fleet of gold war boats, one of which was instantly despatched the other side of the river to hail us, and make all necessary inquiries. We were allowed to proceed quietly on, when he had informed the messenger that we were Americans, not English, and were going to Ava in obedience to the command of his Majesty.

"On our arrival at the capital, we found that Dr. Price was out of favour at court, and that suspicion rested on most of the foreigners then at Ava. Your brother visited at the palace two or three times, but found the king's manner toward him very different from what it formerly had been; and the queen, who had hitherto expressed wishes for my speedy arrival, now made no inquiries after me, nor intimated a wish to see me. Consequently, I made no effort to visit at the palace, though almost daily invited to visit some of the branches of the royal family, who were living in their own houses, out of the palace enclosure. Under these circumstances, we thought our most prudent course lay in prosecuting our original intention of building a house, and commencing missionary operations as occasion offered, thus endeavouring to convince the government that we had really nothing to do with the present war.

"In two or three weeks after our arrival, the king, queen, all the members of the royal family, and most of the officers of government, returned to Amarapora, in order to come and take possession of the new palace in the customary style. As there has been much misunderstanding relative to Ava and Amarapora, both being called the capital of the Burmese Empire, I will here remark, that present Ava was formerly the seat of government; but soon after the old king had ascended the throne, it was forsaken, and a new palace built at Amarapora, about six miles from Ava, in which he remained during his life. In the fourth year of the reign of the present king, Amarapora was in its turn forsaken, and a new and beautiful palace built at Ava, which was then in ruins, but is now the capital of the Burmese Empire, and the residence of the Emperor. The king and royal family had been living in the temporary buildings at Ava, during the completion of the new palace, which gave occasion for their returning to Amarapora.

"I dare not attempt a description of that splendid day, when majesty with all its attendant glory entered the gates of the golden city, and amid the acclamations of millions, I may say, took possession of the palace. The saupwars of the provinces bordering on China, all the Viceroys and high officers of the kingdom, were assembled on the occasion, dressed in their robes of state, and ornamented with the insignia of their office. The white elephant, richly adorned with gold and jewels, was one of the most beautiful objects in the procession. The king and queen alone were unadorned, dressed in the simple garb of the country; they, hand in hand, entered the garden in which we had taken our seats, and where a banquet was prepared for their refreshment. All the riches and glory of the empire were on this day exhibited to view. The number and immense size of the elephants, the numerous horses, and great variety of vehicles of all descriptions, far surpassed any thing I have ever seen or imagined. Soon after his majesty had taken possession of the new palace, an order was issued that no foreigner should be allowed to enter, excepting Lansago. We were a little alarmed at this, but concluded it was from political motives, and would not, perhaps, essentially affect us.

"For several weeks nothing took place to alarm us, and we went on with our school. Mr. J. preached every Sabbath, all the materials for building a brick house were procured, and the masons had made considerable progress in raising the building.

"On the 23d of May, 1824, just as we had concluded worship at the Doctor's house, the other side of the river, a messenger came to inform us that Rangoon was taken by the English. The intelligence produced a shock, in which was a mixture of fear and joy. Mr. Gouger, a young merchant residing at Ava, was then with us, and had much more reason to fear than the rest of us. We all, however, immediately returned to our house, and began to consider what was to be done. Mr. G. went to prince Thar-yar-wa-dee, the king's most influential brother, who informed him he need not give himself any uneasiness, as he had mentioned the subject to his majesty, who had replied, that 'the few foreigners residing at Ava, had nothing to do with the war, and should not be molested.'

"The government were now all in motion. An army of ten or twelve thousand men, under the command of the Kyee-woon-gyee, were sent off in three or four days, and were to be joined by the Sakyer-woon-gyee, who had previously been appointed Viceroy of Rangoon, and who was on his way thither, when the news of its attack reached him. No doubt was entertained of the defeat of the English; the only fear of the king was, that the foreigners hearing of the advance of the Burmese troops, would be so alarmed, as to flee on board their ships and depart, before there would be time to secure them as slaves. 'Bring for me,' said a wild young buck of the palace, 'six kala pyoo, (white strangers,) to row my boat;' and 'to me,' said the lady of a Woongyee, 'send four white strangers to manage the affairs of my house, as I understand they are trusty servants.' The war boats, in high glee, passed our house, the soldiers singing and dancing, and exhibiting gestures of the most joyous kind. Poor fellows! said we, you will probably never dance again. And it so proved, for few if any ever saw again their native home.

"As soon as the army were despatched, the government began to inquire the cause of the arrival of the strangers at Rangoon. There must be spies in the country, suggested some, who have invited them over. And who so likely to be spies, as the Englishmen residing at Ava? A report was in circulation, that Captain Laird, lately arrived, had brought Bengal papers which contained the intention of the English to take Rangoon, and it was kept a secret from his Majesty. An inquiry was instituted. The three Englishmen, Gouger, Laird, and Rogers, were called and examined. It was found they had seen the papers, and were put in confinement, though not in prison. We now began to tremble for ourselves, and were in daily expectation of some dreadful event.

"At length Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were summoned to a court of examination, where strict inquiry was made relative to all they knew. The great point seemed to be whether they had been in the habit of making communications to foreigners, of the state of the country, &c. They answered, they had always written to their friends in America, but had no correspondence with English officers, or the Bengal government. After their examination, they were not put in confinement as the Englishmen had been, but were allowed to return to their houses. In examining the accounts of Mr. G. it was found that Mr. J. and Dr. Price had taken money of him to a considerable amount. Ignorant, as were the Burmese, of our mode of receiving money, by orders on Bengal, this circumstance, to their suspicious minds, was a sufficient evidence, that the missionaries were in the pay of the English, and very probably spies. It was thus represented to the king, who, in an angry tone, ordered the immediate arrest of the 'two teachers.'

"On the 8th of June, just as we were preparing for dinner, in rushed an officer, holding a black book, with a dozen Burmans, accompanied by one, whom, from his spotted face, we knew to be an executioner, and a 'son of the prison.' 'Where is the teacher?' was the first inquiry. Mr. Judson presented himself. 'You are called by the king,' said the officer; a form of speech always used when about to arrest a criminal. The spotted man instantly seized Mr. Judson, threw him on the floor, and produced the small cord, the instrument of torture. I caught hold of his arm; 'Stay, (said I,) I will give you money.' 'Take her too,' said the officer; 'she also is a foreigner.' Mr. Judson, with an imploring look, begged they would let me remain till further orders. The scene was now shocking beyond description. The whole neighbourhood had collected--the masons at work on the brick house threw down their tools, and ran--the little Burman children were screaming and crying--the Bengalee servants stood in amazement at the indignities offered their master--and the hardened executioner, with a hellish joy, drew tight the cords, bound Mr. Judson fast, and dragged him off, I knew not whither. In vain I begged and entreated the spotted face to take the silver, and loosen the ropes, but he spurned my offers, and immediately departed. I gave the money, however, to Moung Ing to follow after, to make some further attempt to mitigate the torture of Mr. Judson; but instead of succeeding, when a few rods from the house, the unfeeling wretches again threw their prisoner on the ground, and drew the cords still tighter, so as almost to prevent respiration.

"The officer and his gang proceeded on to the court house, where the Governor of the city and officers were collected, one of whom read the order of the king, to commit Mr. Judson to the death prison, into which he was soon hurled, the door closed--and Moung Ing saw no more. What a night was now before me! I retired into my room, and endeavoured to obtain consolation from committing my case to God, and imploring fortitude and strength to suffer whatever awaited me. But the consolation of retirement was not long allowed me, for the magistrate of the place had come into the verandah, and continually called me to come out, and submit to his examination. But previously to going out, I destroyed all my letters, journals, and writings of every kind, lest they should disclose the fact that we had correspondents in England, and had minuted down every occurrence since our arrival in the country. When this work of destruction was finished, I went out and submitted to the examination of the magistrate, who inquired very minutely of everything I knew; then ordered the gates of the compound to be shut, no person be allowed to go in or out, placed a guard of ten ruffians, to whom he gave a strict charge to keep me safe, and departed.

"It was now dark. I retired to an inner room with my four little Burman girls, and barred the doors. The guard instantly ordered me to unbar the doors and come out, or they would break the house down. I obstinately refused to obey, and endeavoured to intimidate them by threatening to complain of their conduct to higher authorities on the morrow. Finding me resolved in disregarding their orders, they took the two Bengalee servants, and confined them in the stocks in a very painful position. I could not endure this; but called the head man to the window, and promised to make them all a present in the morning, if they would release the servants. After much debate, and many severe threatenings, they consented, but seemed resolved to annoy me as much as possible. My unprotected, desolate state, my entire uncertainty of the fate of Mr. Judson, and the dreadful carousings and almost diabolical language of the guard, all conspired to make it by far the most distressing night I had ever passed. You may well imagine, my dear brother, that sleep was a stranger to my eyes, and peace and composure to my mind.

"The next morning, I sent Moung Ing to ascertain the situation of your brother, and give him food, if still living. He soon returned, with the intelligence, that Mr. Judson, and all the white foreigners, were confined in the death prison, with three pairs of iron fetters each, and fastened to a long pole, to prevent their moving! The point of my anguish now was, that I was a prisoner myself, and could make no efforts for the release of the Missionaries. I begged and entreated the magistrate to allow me to go to some member of government to state my case; but he said he did not dare to consent, for fear I should make my escape. I next wrote a note to one of the king's sisters, with whom I had been intimate, requesting her to use her influence for the release of the teachers. The note was returned with this message--She 'did not understand it,'--which was a polite refusal to interfere; though I afterwards ascertained, that she had an anxious desire to assist us, but dared not on account of the queen. The day dragged heavily away, and another dreadful night was before me. I endeavoured to soften the feelings of the guard by giving them tea and segars for the night; so that they allowed me to remain inside of my room, without threatening as they did the night before. But the idea of your brother being stretched on the bare floor in irons and confinement, haunted my mind like a spectre, and prevented my obtaining any quiet sleep, though nature was almost exhausted.

"On the third day, I sent a message to the governor of the city, who has the entire direction of prison affairs, to allow me to visit him with a present. This had the desired effect; and he immediately sent orders to the guards, to permit my going into town. The governor received me pleasantly, and asked me what I wanted. I stated to him the situation of the foreigners, and particularly that of the teachers, who were Americans, and had nothing to do with the war. He told me it was not in his power to release them from prison or irons, but that he could make their situation more comfortable; there was his head officer, with whom I must consult, relative to the means. The officer, who proved to be one of the city writers, and whose countenance at the first glance presented the most perfect assemblage of all the evil passions attached to human nature, took me aside, and endeavoured to convince me, that myself, as well as the prisoners, was entirely at his disposal--that our future comfort must depend on my liberality in regard to presents--and that these must be made in a private way and unknown to any officer in the government! What must I do, said I, to obtain a mitigation of the present sufferings of the two teachers? 'Pay to me,' said he, 'two hundred tickals, (about a hundred dollars,) two pieces of fine cloth, and two pieces of handkerchiefs.' I had taken money with me in the morning, our house being two miles from the prison--I could not easily return. This I offered to the writer, and begged he would not insist on the other articles, as they were not in my possession. He hesitated for some time, but fearing to lose the sight of so much money, he concluded to take it, promising to relieve the teachers from their most painful situation.

"I then procured an order from the governor, for my admittance into prison; but the sensations, produced by meeting your brother in that wretched, horrid situation, and the affecting scene which ensued, I will not attempt to describe. Mr. Judson crawled to the door of the prison--for I was never allowed to enter--gave me some directions relative to his release; but before we could make any arrangement, I was ordered to depart, by those iron hearted jailers, who could not endure to see us enjoy the poor consolation of meeting in that miserable place. In vain I pleaded the order of the governor for my admittance; they again, harshly repeated, 'Depart, or we will pull you out.' The same evening, the missionaries, together with the other foreigners, who had paid an equal sum, were taken out of the common prison, and confined in an open shed in the prison enclosure. Here I was allowed to send them food, and mats to sleep on; but was not permitted to enter again for several days.

"My next object was to get a petition presented to the queen; but no person being admitted into the palace, who was in disgrace with his Majesty, I sought to present it through the medium of her brother's wife. I had visited her in better days, and received particular marks of her favour. But now times were altered: Mr. Judson was in prison, and I in distress, which was a sufficient reason for giving me a cold reception. I took a present of considerable value. She was lolling on her carpet as I entered, with her attendants around her. I waited not for the usual question to a suppliant, 'What do you want?' but in a hold, earnest, yet respectful manner, stated our distresses and our wrongs, and begged her assistance. She partly raised her head, opened the present I had brought, and coolly replied, 'Your case is not singular; all the foreigners are treated alike.' 'But it is singular,' said I, 'the teachers are Americans; they are ministers of religion, have nothing to do with war or politics, and came to Ava in obedience to the king's command. They have never done any thing to deserve such treatment; and is it right they should be treated thus?' 'The king does as he pleases,' said she; 'I am not the king, what can I do?' 'You can state their case to the queen, and obtain their release,' replied I. 'Place yourself in my situation,--were you in America, your husband, innocent of crime, thrown into prison, in irons, and you a solitary, unprotected female--what would you do?' With a slight degree of feeling, she said, 'I will present your petition,--come again to-morrow.' I returned to the house, with considerable hope, that the speedy release of the missionaries was at hand. But the next day Mr. Gouger's property, to the amount of fifty thousand dollars, was taken and carried to the palace. The officers, on their return, politely informed me, they should visit our house on the morrow. I felt obliged for this information, and accordingly made preparations to receive them, by secreting as many little articles as possible; together with considerable silver, as I knew, if the war should be protracted, we should be in a state of starvation without it. But my mind was in a dreadful state of agitation, lest it should be discovered, and cause my being thrown into prison. And had it been possible to procure money from any other quarter, I should not have ventured on such a step.

"The following morning, the royal treasurer, prince Tharyawadees, chief Woon, and Koung-tone Myoo-tsa, who was in future our steady friend, attended by forty or fifty followers, came to take possession of all we had. I treated them civilly, gave them chairs to sit on, tea and sweetmeats for their refreshment; and justice obliges me to say, that they conducted the business of confiscation with more regard to my feelings than I should have thought it possible for Burmese officers to exhibit. The three officers, with one of the royal secretaries, alone entered the house; their attendants were ordered to remain outside. They saw I was deeply affected, and apologized for what they were about to do, by saying, that it was painful for them to take possession of property not their own, but they were compelled thus to do by order of the king. 'Where is your silver, gold, and jewels?' said the royal treasurer. 'I have no gold or jewels; but here is the key of a trunk which contains the silver--do with it as you please.' The trunk was produced, and the silver weighed. 'This money,' said I, 'was collected in America, by the disciples of Christ, and sent here for the purpose of building a kyoung, (the name of a priest's dwelling) and for our support while teaching the religion of Christ. Is it suitable that you should take it? (The Burmans are averse to taking what is offered in a religious point of view, which was the cause of my making the inquiry.) 'We will state this circumstance to the king,' said one of them, 'and perhaps he will restore it. But this is all the silver you have?' I could not tell a falsehood: 'The house is in your possession,' I replied, 'search for yourselves.' 'Have you not deposited silver with some person of your acquaintance?' 'My acquaintances are all in prison, with whom should I deposit silver? They next ordered my trunk and drawers to be examined. The secretary only was allowed to accompany me in this search. Everything nice or curious, which met his view, was presented to the officers, for their decision, whether it should be taken or retained. I begged they would not take our wearing apparel, as it would be disgraceful to take clothes partly worn, into the possession of his majesty, and to us they were of unspeakable value. They assented, and took a list only, and did the same with the books, medicines, &c. My little work table and rocking chair, presents from my beloved brother, I rescued from their grasp, partly by artifice, and partly through their ignorance. They left also many articles, which were of inestimable value, during our long imprisonment.

"As soon as they had finished their search and departed, I hastened to the queen's brother, to hear what had been the fate of my petition; when, alas! all my hopes were dashed, by his wife's coolly saying, 'I stated your case to the queen; but her majesty replied,--'The teachers will not die: let them remain as they are.' My expectations had been so much excited, that this sentence was like a thunderbolt to my feelings. For the truth at one glance assured me, that if the queen refused assistance, who would dare to intercede for me? With a heavy heart I departed, and on my way home, attempted to enter the prison gate, to communicate the sad tidings to your brother but was harshly refused admittance: and for the ten days following notwithstanding my daily efforts, I was not allowed to enter. We attempted to communicate by writing, and after being successful for a few days, it was discovered; the poor fellow who carried the communications was beaten and put in the stocks; and the circumstance cost me about ten dollars, besides two or three days of agony, for fear of the consequences.

"The officers who had taken possession of our property, presented it to his majesty, saying, 'Judson is a true teacher; we found nothing in his house, but what belongs to priests. In addition to this money, there are an immense number of books, medicines, trunks of wearing apparel, &c. of which we have only taken a list. Shall we take them, or let them remain?' 'Let them remain,' said the king, 'and put this property by itself, for it shall be restored to him again, if he is found innocent.' This was an allusion to the idea of his being a spy.

"For two or three months following, I was subject to continual harassments, partly through my ignorance of police management and partly through the insatiable desire of every petty officer to enrich himself through our misfortunes. When the officers came to our house, to confiscate our property, they insisted on knowing how much I had given the governor and prison officers, to release the teachers from the inner prison. I honestly told them, and they demanded the sum from the governor, which threw him into a dreadful rage, and he threatened to put all the prisoners back into their original place. I went to him the next morning, and the first words with which he accosted me, were, 'You are very bad; why did you tell the royal treasurer that you had given me so much money?' 'The treasurer inquired; what could I say!' I replied. 'Say that you had given nothing,' said he, 'and I would have made the teachers comfortable in prison; but now I know not what will be their fate.' 'But I cannot tell a falsehood,' I replied. 'My religion differs from yours, it forbids prevarication; and had you stood by me with your knife raised, I could not have said what you suggested.' His wife, who sat by his side, and who always, from this time, continued my firm friend, instantly said, 'Very true--what else could she have said? I like such straight-forward conduct; you must not (turning to the governor) be angry with her.' I then presented the governor with a beautiful opera glass, I had just received from England, and begged his anger at me would not influence him to treat the prisoners with unkindness, and I would endeavour, from time to time, to make him such presents, as would compensate for his loss. 'You may intercede for your husband only; for your sake, he shall remain where he is; but let the other prisoners take care of themselves.' I pleaded hard for Dr. Price; but he would not listen, and the same day had him returned to the inner prison, where he remained ten days. He was then taken out, in consequence of the Doctor's promising a piece of broad cloth, and my sending two pieces of handkerchiefs.

"About this period, I was one day summoned to the Tlowtdan, in an official way. What new evil was before me, I knew not, but was obliged to go. When arrived, I was allowed to stand at the bottom of the stairs, as no female is permitted to ascend the steps, or even to stand, but sit on the ground. Hundreds were collected around. The officer who presided, in an authoritative voice, began; 'Speak the truth in answer to the questions I shall ask. If you speak true, no evil will follow; but if not, your life will not be spared. It is reported that you have committed to the care of a Burmese officer, a string of pearls, a pair of diamond ear-rings, and a silver tea-pot. Is it true? 'It is not,' I replied; 'and if you or any other person can produce these articles, I refuse not to die.' The officer again urged the necessity of 'speaking true.' I told him I had nothing more to say on this subject, but begged he would use his influence to obtain the release of Mr. Judson from prison.

"I returned to the house, with a heart much lighter than I went, though conscious of my perpetual exposure to such harassments. Notwithstanding the repulse I had met in my application to the queen, I could not remain without making continual effort for your brother's release, while there was the least probability of success. Time after time my visits to the queen's sister-in-law were repeated, till she refused to answer a question, and told me by her looks, I had better keep out of her presence. For the seven following months, hardly a day passed, that I did not visit some one of the members of government, or branches of the royal family, in order to gain their influence in our behalf; but the only benefit resulting was, their encouraging promises preserved us from despair, and induced a hope of the speedy termination of our difficulties, which enabled us to bear our distresses better than we otherwise should have done. I ought, however, to mention, that by my repeated visits to the different members of government, I gained several friends, who were ready to assist me with articles of food, though in a private manner, and who used their influence in the palace to destroy the impression of our being in any way engaged in the present war. But no one dared to speak a word to the king or queen in favor of a foreigner, while there were such continual reports of the success of the English arms.

"During these seven months, the continual extortions and oppressions to which your brother, and the other white prisoners were subject, are indescribable. Sometimes sums of money were demanded, sometimes pieces of cloth and handkerchiefs; at other times, an order would be issued, that the white foreigners should not speak to each other, or have any communication with their friends without. Then again, the servants were forbidden to carry in their food, without an extra fee. Sometimes, for days and days together, I could not go into the prison till after dark, when I had two miles to walk, in returning to the house. O how many, many times, have I returned from that dreary prison at nine o'clock at night, solitary and worn out with fatigue and anxiety, and thrown myself down in that same rocking chair which you and Deacon L. provided for me in Boston and endeavoured to invent some new scheme for the release of the prisoners. Sometimes, for a moment or two, my thoughts would glance toward America, and my beloved friends there--but for nearly a year and a half, so entirely engrossed was every thought with present scenes and sufferings, that I seldom reflected on a single occurrence of my former life, or recollected that I had a friend in existence out of Ava.

"You, my dear brother, who know my strong attachment to my friends, and how much pleasure I have hitherto experienced from retrospect, can judge from the above circumstances, how intense were my sufferings. But the point, the acme of my distresses, consisted in the awful uncertainty of our final fate. My prevailing opinion was, that my husband would suffer violent death; and that I should, of course, become a slave, and languish out a miserable though short existence, in the tyrannic hands of some unfeeling monster. But the consolations of religion, in these trying circumstances, were neither 'few nor small.' It taught me to look beyond this world, to that rest, that peaceful, happy rest, where Jesus reigns, and oppression never enters. But how have I digressed from my relation. I will again return.

"The war was now prosecuted with all the energy the Burmese government possessed. New troops were continually raised and sent down the river, and as frequent reports returned of their being all cut off. But that part of the Burmese army stationed at Arracan, under the command of Bandoola, had been more successful. Three hundred prisoners, at one time, was sent to the capital, as an evidence of the victory that had been gained. The king began to think that none but Bandoola understood the art of fighting with foreigners; consequently his majesty recalled him with the design of his taking command of the army that had been sent to Rangoon. On his arrival at Ava, he was received at court in the most flattering manner, and was the recipient of every favour in the power of the king and queen to bestow. He was, in fact, while at Ava, the acting king. I was resolved to apply to him for the release of the missionaries, though some members of government advised me not, lest he, being reminded of their existence, should issue an immediate order for their execution. But it was my last hope, and as it proved, my last application.

"Your brother wrote a petition privately, stating every circumstance that would have a tendency to interest him in our behalf. With fear and trembling I approached him, while surrounded by a crowd of flatterers, and one of his secretaries took the petition, and read it aloud. After hearing it, he spake to me in an obliging manner--asked several questions relative to the teachers--said he would think of the subject--and bade me come again. I ran to the prison to communicate the favourable reception to Mr. Judson; and we both had sanguine hopes that his release was at hand. But the governor of the city expressed his amazement at my temerity, and said he doubted not it would be the means of destroying all the prisoners. In a day or two, however, I went again, and took a present of considerable value. Bandoola was not at home; but his lady, after ordering the present to be taken into another room, modestly informed me that she was ordered by her husband to make the following communication--that he was now very busily employed in making preparations for Rangoon; but that when he had re-taken that place and expelled the English, he would return and release all the prisoners.

"Thus again were all our hopes dashed; and we felt that we could do nothing more, but sit down and submit to our lot. From this time we gave up all idea of being released from prison, till the termination of the war; but I was still obliged to visit constantly some of the members of government, with little presents, particularly the governor of the city, for the purpose of making the situation of the prisoners tolerable. I generally spent the greater part of every other day at the governor's house, giving him all the information relative to American manners, customs, government, &c. He used to be so much gratified with my communications, as to feel greatly disappointed, if any occurrence prevented my spending the usual hours at his house.

"Some months after your brother's imprisonment, I was permitted to make a little bamboo room in the prison enclosures, where he could be much by himself, and where I was sometimes allowed to spend two or three hours. It so happened that the two months he occupied this place, was the coldest part of the year, when he would have suffered much in the open shed he had previously occupied. After the birth of your little niece, I was unable to visit the prison and the governor as before, and found I had lost considerable influence, previously gained; for he was not so forward to hear my petitions when any difficulty occurred, as he formerly had been. When Maria was nearly two months old, her father one morning sent me word that he and all the white prisoners were put into the inner prison in five pairs of fetters each, that his little room had been torn down, and his mat, pillow, &c. been taken by the jailers. This was to me a dreadful shock, as I thought at once it was only a prelude to greater evils.

"I should have mentioned before this, the defeat of Bandoola, his escape to Danooboo, the complete destruction of his army and loss of ammunition, and the consternation this intelligence produced at court. The English army had left Rangoon, and were advancing towards Prome, when these severe measures were taken with the prisoners.

"I went immediately to the governor's house. He was not at home, but had ordered his wife to tell me, when I came, not to ask to have the additional fetters taken off, or the prisoners released, for it could not be done. I went to the prison gate, but was forbid to enter. All was as still as death--not a white face to be seen, or a vestige of Mr. J.'s little room remaining. I was determined to see the governor and know the cause of this additional oppression; and for this purpose returned to town the same evening, at an hour I knew he would be at home. He was in his audience room, and, as I entered, looked up without speaking, but exhibited a mixture of shame and affected anger in his countenance. I began by saying--Your Lordship has hitherto treated us with the kindness of a father. Our obligations to you are very great. We have looked to you for protection from oppression and cruelty. You have in many instances mitigated the sufferings of those unfortunate, though innocent beings, committed to your charge. You have promised me particularly, that you would stand by me to the last, and though you should receive an order from the king, you would not put Mr. J. to death. What crime has he committed to deserve such additional punishment? The old man's hard heart was melted, for he wept like a child. 'I pity you, Tsa-yar-ga-dau, (a name by which he always called me) I knew you would make me feel; I therefore forbade your application. But you must believe me when I say, I do not wish to increase the sufferings of the prisoners. When I am ordered to execute them, the least that I can do is, to put them out of sight. I will now tell you (continued he) what I have never told you before, that three times I have received intimations from the queen's brother, to assassinate all the white prisoners privately; but I would not do it. And I now repeat it, though I execute all the others, I will never execute your husband. But I cannot release him from his present confinement, and you must not ask it.' I had never seen him manifest so much feeling, or so resolute in denying me a favour, which circumstance was an additional reason for thinking dreadful scenes were before us.

"The situation of the prisoners was now distressing beyond description. It was at the commencement of the hot season. There were above a hundred prisoners shut up in one room, without a breath of air excepting from the cracks in the boards. I sometimes obtained permission to go to the door for five minutes, when my heart sickened at the wretchedness exhibited. The white prisoners, from incessant perspiration and loss of appetite, looked more like the dead than the living. I made daily applications to the governor, offering him money, which he refused; but all that I gained, was permission for the foreigners to eat their food outside, and this continued but a short time.

"It was at this period that the death of Bandoola was announced in the palace. The king heard it with silent amazement, and the queen, in eastern style, smote upon her breast, and cried, ama! ama! (alas, alas.) Who could be found to fill his place? who would venture since the invincible Bandoola had been cut off? Such were the exclamations constantly heard in the streets of Ava. The common people were speaking low of a rebellion, in case more troops should be levied. For as yet the common people had borne the weight of the war, not a tickal had been taken from the royal treasury. At length the Pakan Woon, who a few months before had been so far disgraced by the king as to be thrown into prison and irons, now offered himself to head a new army that should be raised on a different plan from those which had been hitherto raised; and assured the king in the most confident manner, that he would conquer the English, and restore those places that had been taken, in a very short time. He proposed that every soldier should receive a hundred tickals in advance, and he would obtain security for each man, as the money was to pass through his hands. It was afterwards found that he had taken, for his own use, ten tickals from every hundred. He was a man of enterprise and talents, though a violent enemy to all foreigners. His offers were accepted by the king and government, and all power immediately committed to him. One of the first exercises of his power was, to arrest Lansago and the Portuguese priest, who had hitherto remained unmolested, and cast them into prison, and to subject the native Portuguese and Bengalees to the most menial occupations. The whole town was in alarm, lest they should feel the effects of his power; and it was owing to the malignant representations of this man, that the white prisoners suffered such a change in their circumstances, as I shall soon relate.

"After continuing in the inner prison for more than a month, your brother was taken with a fever. I felt assured he would not live long, unless removed from that noisome place. To effect this, and in order to be near the prison, I removed from our house and put up a small bamboo room in the governor's enclosure, which was nearly opposite the prison gate. Here I incessantly begged the governor to give me an order to take Mr. J. out of the large prison, and place him in a more comfortable situation; and the old man, being worn out with my entreaties, at length gave me the order in an official form; and also gave orders to the head jailer, to allow me to go in and out, all times of the day, to administer medicines, &c. I now felt happy indeed, and had Mr. J. instantly removed into a little bamboo hovel, so low, that neither of us could stand upright--but a palace in comparison with the place he had left.

Removal of the prisoners to Oung-pen-la--Mrs. Judson follows them.

"Notwithstanding the order the governor had given for my admittance into prison, it was with the greatest difficulty that I could persuade the under jailer to open the gate. I used to carry Mr. J's. food myself, for the sake of getting in, and would then remain an hour or two, unless driven out. We had been in this comfortable situation but two or three days, when one morning, having carried in Mr. Judson's breakfast, which, in consequence of fever, he was unable to take, I remained longer than usual, when the governor in great haste sent for me. I promised him to return as soon as I had ascertained the governor's will, he being much alarmed at this unusual message. I was very agreeably disappointed, when the governor informed, that he only wished to consult me about his watch, and seemed unusually pleasant and conversable. I found afterwards, that his only object was, to detain me until the dreadful scene, about to take place in the prison, was over. For when I left him to go to my room, one of the servants came running, and with a ghastly countenance informed me, that all the white prisoners were carried away. I would not believe the report, but instantly went back to the governor, who said he had just heard of it, but did not wish to tell me. I hastily ran into the street, hoping to get a glimpse of them before they were out of sight, but in this was disappointed. I ran first into one street, then another, inquiring of all I met, but none would answer me. At length an old woman told me the white prisoners had gone towards the little river; for they were to be carried to Amarapora. I then ran to the banks of the little river, about half a mile, but saw them not, and concluded the old woman had deceived me. Some of the friends of the foreigners went to the place of execution, but found them not. I then returned to the governor to try to discover the cause of their removal, and the probability of their future fate. The old man assured me that he was ignorant of the intention of government to remove the foreigners till that morning. That since I went out, he had learned that the prisoners were to be sent to Amarapora; but for what purpose, he knew not. 'I will send off a man immediately,' said he, 'to see what is to be done with them. You can do nothing more for your husband,' continued he, 'take care of yourself.' With a heavy heart I went to my room, and having no hope to excite me to exertion, I sunk down almost in despair. For several days previous, I had been actively engaged in building my own little room, and making our hovel comfortable. My thoughts had been almost entirely occupied in contriving means to get into prison. But now I looked towards the gate with a kind of melancholy feeling, but no wish to enter. All was the stillness of death; no preparation of your brother's food, no expectation of meeting him at the usual dinner hour, all my employment, all my occupations seemed to have ceased, and I had nothing left but the dreadful recollection that Mr. Judson was carried off, I knew not whither. It was one of the most insupportable days I ever passed. Towards night, however, I came to the determination to set off the next morning for Amarapora; and for this purpose was obliged to go to our house out of town.

"Never before had I suffered so much from fear in traversing the streets of Ava. The last words of the governor, 'Take care of yourself,' made me suspect there was some design with which I was unacquainted. I saw, also, he was afraid to have me go into the streets, and advised me to wait till dark, when he would send me in a cart, and a man to open the gates. I took two or three trunks of the most valuable articles, together with the medicine chest, to deposit in the house of the governor; and after committing the house and premises to our faithful Moung Ing and a Bengalee servant, who continued with us, (though we were unable to pay his wages,) I took leave, as I then thought probable, of our house in Ava forever.

"On my return to the governor's, I found a servant of Mr. Gouges, who happened to be near the prison when the foreigners were led out, and followed on to see the end, who informed me, that the prisoners had been carried before the Lamine Woon, at Amarapora, and were to be sent the next day to a village he knew not how far distant. My distress was a little relieved by the intelligence that our friend was yet alive, but still I knew not what was to become of him. The next morning I obtained a pass from government, and with my little Maria, who was then only three months old, Mary and Abby Hasseltine, (two of the Burman children) and our Bengalee cook, who was the only one of the party who could afford me any assistance, I set off for Amarapora. The day was dreadfully hot; but we obtained a covered boat, in which we were tolerably comfortable, till within two miles of the government house. I then procured a cart; but the violent motion, together with the dreadful heat and dust; made me almost distracted. But what was my disappointment on my arriving at the court house, to find that the prisoners had been sent on two hours before, and that I must go in that uncomfortable mode four miles further with little Maria in my arms, whom I held all the way from Ava. The cart man refused to go any further; and after waiting an hour in the burning sun, I procured another, and set off for that never to be forgotten place, Oung-pen-la. I obtained a guide from the governor and was conducted directly to the prison-yard. But what a scene of wretchedness was presented to my view! The prison was an old shattered building, without a roof; the fence was entirely destroyed; eight or ten Burmese were on the top of the building, trying to make something like a shelter with the leaves; while under a little low projection outside of the prison sat the foreigners, chained together two and two, almost dead with suffering and fatigue. The first words of your brother were, 'Why have you come? I hoped you would not follow, for you cannot live here.' It was now dark. I had no refreshment for the suffering prisoners, or for myself, as I had expected to procure all that was necessary at the market of Amarapora, and I had no shelter for the night. I asked one of the jailers if I might put up a little bamboo house near the prisoners; he said no, it was not customary. I then begged he would procure me a shelter for the night, when on the morrow I could find some place to live in. He took me to his house, in which there were only two small rooms--one in which he and his family lived--the other, which was then half full of grain, he offered to me; and in that little filthy place, I spent the next six months of wretchedness. I procured some half boiled water, instead of my tea, and, worn out with fatigue, laid myself down on a mat spread over the paddy, and endeavoured to obtain a little refreshment from sleep. The next morning your brother gave me the following account of the brutal treatment he had received on being taken out of prison.

"As soon as I had gone out at the call of the governor, one of the jailers rushed into Mr. J's little room--roughly seized him by the arm--pulled him out--stripped him of all his clothes, excepting shirt and pantaloons--took his shoes, hat, and all his bedding--tore off his chains--tied a rope round his waist, and dragged him to the court house, where the other prisoners had previously been taken. They were then tied two and two, and delivered into the hands of the Lamine Woon, who went on before them on horseback, while his slaves drove the prisoners, one of the slaves holding the rope which connected two of them together. It was in May, one of the hottest months in the year, and eleven o'clock in the day, so that the sun was intolerable indeed. They had proceeded only half a mile, when your brother's feet became blistered, and so great was his agony, even at this early period, that as they were crossing the little river, he longed to throw himself into the water to be free from misery. But the sin attached to such an act alone prevented. They had then eight miles to walk. The sand and gravel were like burning coals to the feet of the prisoners, which soon became perfectly destitute of skin; and in this wretched state they were goaded on by their unfeeling drivers. Mr. J.'s debilitated state, in consequence of fever, and having taken no food that morning, rendered him less capable of bearing such hardships than the other prisoners. When about half way on their journey, as they stopped for water, your brother begged the Lamine Woon to allow him to ride his horse a mile or two, as he could proceed no farther in that dreadful state. But a scornful, malignant look, was all the reply that was made. He then requested captain Laird, who was tied with him, and who was a strong, healthy man, to allow him to take hold of his shoulder, as he was fast sinking. This the kind-hearted man granted for a mile or two, but then found the additional burden insupportable. Just at that period, Mr. Gouger's Bengalee servant came up to them, and seeing the distresses of your brother, took off his head dress, which was made of cloth, tore it in two, gave half to his master, and half to Mr. Judson, which he instantly wrapt round his wounded feet, as they were not allowed to rest even for a moment. The servant then offered his shoulder to Mr. J. and was almost carried by him the remainder of the way. Had it not been for the support and assistance of this man, your brother thinks he should have shared the fate of the poor Greek, who was one of their number, and when taken out of prison that morning was in perfect health. But he was a corpulent man, and the sun affected him so much that he fell down on the way. His inhuman drivers beat and dragged him until they themselves were wearied, when they procured a cart, in which he was carried the remaining two miles. But the poor creature expired in an hour or two after their arrival at the court house. The Lamine Woon seeing the distressing state of the prisoners, and that one of their number was dead, concluded they should go no farther that night, otherwise they would have been driven on until they reached Oung-pen-la the same day. An old shed was appointed for their abode during the night, but without even a mat or pillow, or any thing to cover them. The curiosity of the Lamine Woon's wife, induced her to make a visit to the prisoners, whose wretchedness considerably excited her compassion, and she ordered some fruit, sugar, and tamarinds, for their refreshment; and the next morning rice was prepared for them, and as poor as it was, it was refreshing to the prisoners, who had been almost destitute of food the day before. Carts were also provided for their conveyance, as none of them were able to walk. All this time the foreigners were entirely ignorant of what was to become of them; and when they arrived at Oung-pen-la, and saw the dilapidated state of the prison, they immediately, all as one, concluded that they were there to be burnt, agreeably to the report which had previously been in circulation at Ava. They all endeavoured to prepare themselves for the awful scene anticipated, and it was not until they saw preparations making for repairing the prison, that they had the least doubt that a cruel lingering death awaited them. My arrival was in an hour or two after this.

"The next morning I arose and endeavoured to find something like food. But there was no market, and nothing to be procured. One of Dr. Price's friends, however, brought some cold rice and vegetable curry, from Amarapora, which, together with a cup of tea from Mr. Lansago, answered for the breakfast of the prisoners; and for dinner, we made a curry of dried salt fish, which a servant of Mr. Gouger had brought. All the money I could command in the world, I had brought with me, secreted about my person; so you may judge what our prospects were, in case the war should continue long. But our heavenly Father was better to us than our fears; for notwithstanding the constant extortions of the jailers, during the whole six months we were at Oung-pen-la, and the frequent straits to which we were brought, we never really suffered for the want of money, though frequently for want of provisions, which were not procurable. Here at this place my personal bodily sufferings commenced. While your brother was confined in the city prison, I had been allowed to remain in our house, in which I had many conveniences left, and my health continued good beyond all expectations. But now I had not a single article of convenience--not even a chair or seat of any kind, excepting a bamboo floor. The very morning after my arrival, Mary Hasseltine was taken with the small pox, the natural way. She, though very young, was the only assistant I had in taking care of little Maria. But she now required all the time I could spare from Mr. Judson, whose fever still continued in prison, and whose feet were so dreadfully mangled, that for several days he was unable to move. I knew not what to do, for I could procure no assistance from the neighbourhood, or medicine for the sufferers, but was all day long going backwards and forwards from the house to the prison, with little Maria in my arms. Sometimes I was greatly relieved by leaving her, for an hour, when asleep, by the side of her father, while I returned to the house to look after Mary, whose fever ran so high as to produce delirium. She was so completely covered with the small pox, that there was no distinction in the pustules. As she was in the same little room with myself, I knew Maria would take it; I therefore inoculated her from another child, before Mary's had arrived at such a state as to be infectious. At the same time, I inoculated Abby, and the jailer's children, who all had it so lightly as hardly to interrupt their play. But the inoculation in the arm of my poor little Maria did not take--she caught it of Mary, and had it the natural way. She was then only three months and a half old, and had been a most healthy child; but it was above three months before she perfectly recovered from the effects of this dreadful disorder.

"You will recollect I never had the small pox, but was vaccinated previously to leaving America. In consequence of being for so long a time constantly exposed, I had nearly a hundred pustules formed, though no previous symptoms of fever, &c. The jailer's children having had the small pox so lightly, in consequence of inoculation, my fame was spread all over the village, and every child, young and old, who had not previously had it, was brought for inoculation. And although I knew nothing about the disorder, or the mode of treating it, I inoculated them all with a needle, and told them to take care of their diet,--all the instructions I could give them. Mr. Judson's health was gradually restored, and he found himself much more comfortably situated, than when in the city prison.

"The prisoners were at first chained two and two; but as soon as the jailers could obtain chains sufficient, they were separated, and each prisoner had but one pair. The prison was repaired, a new fence made, and a large airy shed erected in front of the prison, where the prisoners were allowed to remain during the day, though locked up in the little close prison at night. All the children recovered from the small pox; but my watchings and fatigue, together with my miserable food, and more miserable lodgings, brought on one of the diseases of the country, which is almost always fatal to foreigners. My constitution seemed destroyed, and in a few days I became so weak as to be hardly able to walk to Mr. Judson's prison. In this debilitated state, I set off in a cart for Ava, to procure medicines, and some suitable food, leaving the cook to supply my place. I reached the house in safety, and for two or three days the disorder seemed at a stand; after which it attacked me so violently, that I had no hopes of recovery left--and my only anxiety now was, to return to Oung-pen-la to die near the prison. It was with the greatest difficulty that I obtained the medicine chest from the governor, and then had no one to administer medicine. I however got at the laudanum, and by taking two drops at a time for several hours, it so far checked the disorder, as to enable me to get on board a boat, though so weak that I could not stand, and again set off for Oung-pen-la. The last four miles was in that painful conveyance, the cart, and in the midst of the rainy season, when the mud almost buries the oxen. You may form some idea of a Burmese cart, when I tell you their wheels are not constructed like ours; but are simply round thick planks with a hole in the middle, through which a pole that supports the body is thrust.

"I just reached Oung-pen-la when my strength seemed entirely exhausted. The good native cook came out to help me into the house but so altered and emaciated was my appearance, that the poor fellow burst into tears at the first sight. I crawled on to the mat in the little room, to which I was confined for more than two months, and never perfectly recovered, until I came to the English camp. At this period, when I was unable to take care of myself, or look after Mr. Judson, we must both have died, had it not been for the faithful and affectionate care of our Bengalee cook. A common Bengalee cook will do nothing but the simple business of cooking: But he seemed to forget his cast, and almost his own wants, in his efforts to serve us. He would provide, cook, and carry your brother's food, and then return and take care of me. I have frequently known him not to taste of food till near night, in consequence of having to go so far for wood and water, and in order to have Mr. Judson's dinner ready at the usual hour. He never complained, never asked for his wages, and never for a moment hesitated to go any where, or to perform any act we required. I take great pleasure in speaking of the faithful conduct of this servant, who is still with us, and I trust has been well rewarded for his services.

"Our dear little Maria was the greatest sufferer at this time, my illness depriving her of her usual nourishment, and neither a nurse nor a drop of milk could be procured in the village. By making presents to the jailers, I obtained leave for Mr. Judson to come out of prison, and take the emaciated creature around the village, to beg a little nourishment from those mothers who had young children. Her cries in the night were heart-rending, when it was impossible to supply her wants. I now began to think the very afflictions of Job had come upon me. When in health, I could bear the various trials and vicissitudes through which I was called to pass. But to be confined with sickness, and unable to assist those who were so dear to me, when in distress, was almost too much for me to bear; and had it not been for the consolations of religion, and an assured conviction that every additional trial was ordered by infinite love and mercy, I must have sunk under my accumulated sufferings. Sometimes our jailers seemed a little softened at our distress, and for several days together allowed Mr. Judson to come to the house, which was to me an unspeakable consolation. Then again they would be as iron-hearted in their demands, as though we were free from sufferings, and in affluent circumstances. The annoyance, the extortions, and oppressions, to which we were subject, during our six months residence in Oung-pen-la, are beyond enumeration or description.

"It was some time after our arrival at Oung-pen-la, that we heard of the execution of the Pakan Woon, in consequence of which our lives were still preserved. For we afterwards ascertained, that the white foreigners had been sent to Oung-pen-la, for the express purpose of sacrificing them, and that he himself intended witnessing the horrid scene. We had frequently heard of his intended arrival at Oung-pen-la; but we had no idea of his diabolical purposes. He had raised an army of fifty thousand men, (a tenth part of whose advanced pay was found in his house,) and expected to march against the English army in a short time, when he was suspected of high treason, and instantly executed without the least examination. Perhaps no death in Ava ever produced such universal rejoicings, as that of the Pakan Woon. We never, to this day, hear his name mentioned, but with an epithet of reproach or hatred. Another brother of the king was appointed to the command of the army now in readiness, but with no very sanguine expectations of success. Some weeks after the departure of these troops, two of the Woongyees were sent down for the purpose of negotiating. But not being successful, the queen's brother, the acting king of the country, was prevailed on to go. Great expectations were raised in consequence; but his cowardice induced him to encamp his detachment of the army at a great distance from the English, and even at a distance from the main body of the Burmese army, whose head-quarters were then at Maloun. Thus he effected nothing, though reports were continually reaching us, that peace was nearly concluded.

"The time at length arrived for our release from that detested place, the Oung-pen-la prison. A messenger from our friend, the governor of the north gate of the palace, who was formerly Koung-tone, Myoo-tsa, informed us that an order had been given, the evening before, in the palace, for Mr. Judson's release. On the same evening an official order arrived; and with a joyful heart I set about preparing for our departure early the following morning. But an unexpected obstacle occurred, which made us fear that I should still be retained as a prisoner. The avaricious jailers, unwilling to lose their prey, insisted, that as my name was not included in the order, I should not go. In vain I urged that I was not sent there as a prisoner, and that they had no authority over me--they still determined I should not go, and forbade the villagers from letting me a cart. Mr. Judson was then taken out of prison, and brought to the jailer's house, where, by promises and threatenings, he finally gained their consent, on condition that we would leave the remaining part of our provisions we had recently received from Ava. It was noon before we were allowed to depart. When we reached Amarapora, Mr. Judson was obliged to follow the guidance of the jailer, who conducted him to the governor of the city. Having made all necessary inquiries, the governor appointed another guard, which conveyed Mr. Judson to the court-house in Ava, to which place he arrived some time in the night. I took my own course, procured a boat, and reached our house before dark.

"My first object the next morning, was to go in search of your brother, and I had the mortification to meet him again in prison, though not the death prison. I went immediately to my old friend the governor of the city, who now was raised to the rank of a Woongyee. He informed me that Mr. Judson was to be sent to the Burmese camp, to act as translator and interpreter; and that he was put in confinement for a short time only, till his affairs were settled. Early the following morning I went to this officer again, who told me that Mr. Judson had that moment received twenty tickals from government, with orders to go immediately on board a boat for Maloun, and that he had given him permission to stop a few moments at the house, it being on his way. I hastened back to the house, where Mr. Judson soon arrived; but was allowed to remain only a short time, while I could prepare food and clothing for future use. He was crowded into a little boat, where he had not room sufficient to lie down, and where his exposure to the cold damp nights threw him into a violent fever, which had nearly ended all his sufferings. He arrived at Maloun on the third day, where, ill as he was, he was obliged to enter immediately on the work of translating. He remained at Maloun six weeks, suffering as much as he had at any time in prison, excepting he was not in irons, nor exposed to the insults of those cruel jailers.

"For the first fortnight after his departure, my anxiety was less than it had been at any time previous, since the commencement of our difficulties. I knew the Burmese officers at the camp would feel the value of Mr. Judson's services too much to allow their using any measures threatening his life. I thought his situation, also, would be much more comfortable than it really was--hence my anxiety was less. But my health, which had never been restored, since that violent attack at Oung-pen-la, now daily declined, till I was seized with the spotted fever, with all its attendant horrors. I knew the nature of the fever from its commencement; and from the shattered state of my constitution, together with the want of medical attendants, I concluded it must be fatal. The day I was taken, a Burmese nurse came and offered her services for Maria. This circumstance filled me with gratitude and confidence in God; for though I had so long and so constantly made efforts to obtain a person of this description, I had never been able; when at the very time I most needed one, and with out any exertion, a voluntary offer was made. My fever raged violently and without any intermission. I began to think of settling my worldly affairs, and of committing my dear little Maria to the care of a Portuguese woman, when I lost my reason, and was insensible to all around me. At this dreadful period, Dr. Price was released from prison; and hearing of my illness, obtained permission to come and see me. He has since told me that my situation was the most distressing he had ever witnessed, and that he did not then think I should survive many hours. My hair was shaved, my head and feet covered with blisters, and Dr. Price ordered the Bengalee servant who took care of me, to endeavour to persuade me to take a little nourishment, which I had obstinately refused for several days. One of the first things I recollect was, seeing this faithful servant standing by me, trying to induce me to take a little wine and water. I was in fact so far gone, that the Burmese neighbours who had come in to see me expire, said, 'She is dead; and if the king of angels should come in, he could not recover her.'

"The fever, I afterwards understood, had run seventeen days when the blisters were applied. I now began to recover slowly; but it was more than a month after this before I had strength to stand. While in this weak, debilitated state, the servant who had followed your brother to the Burmese camp, came in, and informed me that his master had arrived, and was conducted to the court-house in town. I sent off a Burman to watch the movements of government, and to ascertain, if possible, in what way Mr. Judson was to be disposed of. He soon returned with the sad intelligence, that he saw Mr. Judson go out of the palace yard, accompanied by two or three Burmans, who conducted him to one of the prisons; and that it was reported in town, that he was to be sent back to the Oung-pen-la prison. I was too weak to bear ill tidings of any kind; but a shock so dreadful as this, almost annihilated me. For some time, I could hardly breathe; but at last gained sufficient composure to dispatch Moung Ing to our friend, the governor of the north gate, and begged him to make one more effort for the release of Mr. Judson, and prevent his being sent back to the country prison, where I knew he must suffer much, as I could not follow. Moung Ing then went in search of Mr. Judson; and it was nearly dark when he found him in the interior of an obscure prison. I had sent food early in the afternoon, but being unable to find him, the bearer had returned with it, which added another pang to my distresses, as I feared he was already sent to Oung-pen-la.

"If I ever felt the value and efficacy of prayer, I did at this time. I could not rise from my couch; I could make no efforts to secure my husband; I could only plead with that great and powerful Being who has said, 'Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will hear, and thou shalt glorify me;'" and who made me at this time feel so powerfully this promise, that I became quite composed, feeling assured that my prayers would be answered.

"When Mr. Judson was sent from Maloun to Ava, it was within five minutes' notice, and without his knowledge of the cause. On his way up the river, he accidently saw the communication made to government respecting him, which was simply this: 'We have no further use for Yoodathan, we therefore return him to the golden city.' On arriving at the court-house, there happened to be no one present who was acquainted with Mr. J. The presiding officer inquired from what place he had been sent to Maloun. He was answered from Oung-pen-la. Let him then, said the officer, be returned thither--when he was delivered to a guard and conducted to the place above-mentioned, there to remain until he could be conveyed to Oung-pen-la. In the mean time the governor of the north gate presented a petition to this high court of the empire, offered himself as Mr. Judson's security, obtained his release, and took him to his house, where he treated him with every possible kindness, and to which I was removed as soon as returning health would allow.

"The rapid strides of the English army towards the capital at this time, threw the whole town into the greatest state of alarm, and convinced the government that some speedy measures must be taken to save the golden city. They had hitherto rejected all the overtures of Sir Archibald Campbell, imagining, until this late period, that they could in some way or other, drive the English from the country. Mr. Judson and Dr. Price were daily called to the court-house and consulted; in fact, nothing was done without their approbation. Two English officers, also, who had lately been brought to Ava as prisoners, were continually consulted, and their good offices requested in endeavouring to persuade the British General to make peace on easier terms. It was finally concluded that Mr. Judson and one of the officers above-mentioned, should be sent immediately to the English camp, in order to negotiate. The danger attached to a situation so responsible, under a government so fickle as the Burmese, induced your brother to use every means possible to prevent his being sent. Dr. Price was not only willing, but desirous of going; this circumstance Mr. Judson represented to the members of government, and begged he might not be compelled to go, as Dr. Price could transact this business equally as well as himself. After some hesitation and deliberation, Dr. Price was appointed to accompany Dr. Sandford, one of the English officers, on condition that Mr. Judson would stand security for his return; while the other English officer, then in irons, should be security for Dr. Sandford. The king gave them a hundred tickals each, to bear their expenses, (twenty-five of which Dr. Sandford generously sent to Mr. Gouger, still a prisoner at Oung-pen-la,) boats, men, and a Burmese officer, to accompany them, though he ventured no farther than the Burman camp. With the most anxious solicitude the court waited the arrival of the messengers, but did not in the least relax in their exertions to fortify the city. Men and beasts were at work night and day, making new stockades and strengthening old ones, and whatever buildings were in their way were immediately torn down. Our house, with all that surrounded it, was levelled to the ground, and our beautiful little compound turned into a road and a place for the erection of cannon. All articles of value were conveyed out of town and safely deposited in some other place.

"At length the boat in which the ambassadors had been sent was seen approaching a day earlier than was expected. As it advanced towards the city, the banks were lined by thousands, anxiously inquiring their success. But no answer was given--the government must first hear the news. The palace gates were crowded, the officers at the Tlowtdau were seated, when Dr. Price made the following communication: 'The general and commissioners will make no alteration in their terms, except the hundred lacks (a lack is a hundred thousand) of rupees, may be paid at four different times. The first twenty-five lacks to be paid within twelve days, or the army will continue their march.' In addition to this, the prisoners were to be given up immediately. The general had commissioned Dr. Price to demand Mr. Judson and myself and little Maria. This was communicated to the king, who replied, 'They are not English, they are my people, and shall not go.' At this time, I had no idea that we should ever be released from Ava. The government had learned the value of your brother's services, having employed him the last three months; and we both concluded they would never consent to our departure. The foreigners were again called to a consultation, to see what could be done. Dr. Price and Mr. Judson told them plainly that the English would never make peace on any other terms than those offered, and that it was in vain to go down again without the money. It was then proposed that a third part of the first sum demanded should he sent down immediately. Mr. Judson objected, and still said it would be useless. Some of the members of government then intimated that it was probable the teachers were on the side of the English, and did not try to make them take a smaller sum; and also threatened if they did not make the English comply, they and their families should suffer.

"In this interval, the fears of the government were considerably allayed, by the offers of a general, by name Layarthoo-yah, who desired to make one more attempt to conquer the English, and disperse them. He assured the king and government, that he could so fortify the ancient city of Pagan, as to make it impregnable; and that he would there defeat and destroy the English. His offers were heard, he marched to Pagan with a very considerable force, and made strong the fortifications. But the English took the city with perfect ease, and dispersed the Burmese army; while the general fled to Ava, and had the presumption to appear in the presence of the king, and demand new troops. The king being enraged that he had ever listened to him for a moment, in consequence of which the negotiation had been delayed, the English general provoked, and the troops daily advancing, that he ordered the general to be immediately executed! The poor fellow was soon hurled from the palace, and beat all the way to the court-house--when he was stripped of his rich apparel, bound with cords, and made to kneel and bow towards the palace. He was then delivered into the hands of the executioners, who, by their cruel treatment, put an end to his existence, before they reached the place of execution.

"The king caused it to be reported, that this general was executed, in consequence of disobeying his commands, 'not to fight the English.'

"Dr. Price was sent off the same night, with part of the prisoners, and with instructions to persuade the general to take six lacks instead of twenty-five. He returned in two or three days with the appalling intelligence, that the English general was very angry, refused to have any communication with him, and was now within a few days' march of the capital. The queen was greatly alarmed, and said the money should be raised immediately, if the English would only stop their march. The whole palace was in motion, gold and silver vessels were melted up, the king and queen superintended the weighing of a part of it, and were determined, if possible, to save their city. The silver was ready in the boats by the next evening; but they had so little confidence in the English, that after all their alarm, they concluded to send down six lacks only, with the assurance that if the English would stop where they then were, the remainder should be forthcoming immediately.

"The government now did not even ask Mr. Judson the question whether he would go or not; but some officers took him by the arm as he was walking in the street, and told him he must go immediately on board the boat, to accompany two Burmese officers, a Woongyee and Woondouk, who were going down to make peace. Most of the English prisoners were sent at the same time. The general and commissioners would not receive the six lacks, neither would they stop their march; but promised, if the sum complete reached them before they should arrive at Ava, they would make peace. The general also commissioned Mr. Judson to collect the remaining foreigners, of whatever country, and ask the question before the Burmese government, whether they wished to go or stay. Those who expressed a wish to go should be delivered up immediately, or peace would not be made.

"Mr. Judson reached Ava at midnight; had all the foreigners called the next morning, and the question asked. Some of the members of government said to him, 'You will not leave us--you shall become a great man if you will remain.' He then secured himself from the odium of saying that he wished to leave the service of his majesty by recurring to the order of Sir Archibald, that whoever wished to leave Ava should be given up, and that I had expressed a wish to go, so that he of course must follow. The remaining part of the twenty-five lacks was soon collected; the prisoners at Oung-pen-la were all released, and either sent to their houses, or down the river to the English; and in two days from the time of Mr. Judson's return, we took an affectionate leave of the good natured officer who had so long entertained us at his house, and who now accompanied us to the water side, and we then left forever the banks of Ava.

It was on a cool, moonlight evening, in the month of March, that with hearts filled with gratitude to God, and overflowing with joy at our prospects, we passed down the Irrawaddy, surrounded by six or eight golden boats, and accompanied by all we had on earth. The thought that we had still to pass the Burman camp, would sometimes occur to damp our joy, for we feared that some obstacle might there arise to retard our progress. Nor were we mistaken in our conjectures. We reached the camp about midnight, where we were detained two hours; the Woongyee, and high officers, insisting that we should wait at the camp, while Dr. Price, (who did not return to Ava with your brother, but remained at the camp,) should go on with the money and first ascertain whether peace would be made. The Burmese government still entertained the idea, that as soon as the English had received the money and prisoners, they would continue their march, and yet destroy the capital. We knew not but that some circumstance might occur to break off the negotiations; Mr. Judson, therefore strenuously insisted that he would not remain, but go on immediately. The officers were finally prevailed on to consent, hoping much from Mr. Judson's assistance in making peace.

"We now, for the first time, for more than a year and a half, felt that we were free, and no longer subject to the oppressive yoke of the Burmese. And with what sensations of delight, on the next morning, did I behold the masts of the steam-boat, the sure presage of being within the bounds of civilized life. As soon as our boat reached the shore, brigadier A. and another officer came on board, congratulated us on our arrival, and invited us on board the steam-boat, where I passed the remainder of the day; while your brother went on to meet the general, who, with a detachment of the army, had encamped at Yandaboo, a few miles further down the river. Mr. Judson returned in the evening, with an invitation from Sir Archibald, to come immediately to his quarters, where I was the next morning introduced, and received with the greatest kindness by the general, who had a tent pitched for us near his own--took us to his own table, and treated us with the kindness of a father, rather than as strangers of another country.

"We feel that our obligations to general Campbell can never be cancelled. Our final release from Ava, and our recovering all the property that had there been taken, was owing entirely to his efforts. This subsequent hospitality and kind attention to the accommodations for our passage to Rangoon, have left an indelible impression on our minds, which can never be forgotten. We daily received the congratulation of the British officers, whose conduct towards us formed a striking contrast to that of the Burmese. I presume to say, that no persons on earth were ever happier than we were, during the fortnight we passed at the English camp. For several days, this single idea wholly occupied my mind, that we were out of the power of the Burmese government, and once more under the protection of the English. Our feelings continually dictated expressions like these: What shall we render to the Lord for all his benefits towards us?

"The treaty of peace was soon concluded, signed by both parties, and a termination of hostilities publicly declared. We left Yandaboo, after a fortnight's residence, and safely reached the mission house in Rangoon, after an absence of two years and three months.

"A review of our trip to, and adventures in, Ava, often, excites the inquiry, Why were we permitted to go? What good has been effected? Why did I not listen to the advice of friends in Bengal, and remain there till the war was concluded? But all that we can say is, It is not in man that walketh to direct his steps. So far as my going round to Rangoon, at the time I did, was instrumental in bringing those heavy afflictions upon us, I can only say, that if I ever acted from a sense of duty in my life, it was at that time; for my conscience would not allow me any peace, when I thought of sending for your brother to come to Calcutta, in prospect of the approaching war. Our society at home have lost no property in consequence of our difficulties; but two years of precious time have been lost to the mission, unless some future advantage may be gained, in consequence of the severe discipline to which we ourselves have been subject. We are sometimes induced to think, that the lesson we found so very hard to learn, will have a beneficial effect through our lives; and that the mission may, in the end, be advanced rather than retarded.

"We should have had no hesitation about remaining in Ava, if no part of the Burmese empire had been ceded to the British. But as it was, we felt it would be an unnecessary exposure, besides the missionary field being much more limited, in consequence of intoleration. We now consider our future missionary prospects as bright indeed; and our only anxiety is, to be once more in that situation where our time will be exclusively devoted to the instruction of the heathen."

In a concluding paragraph, dated Amherst, July 27, she adds:

"From the date at the commencement of this long letter, you see, my dear brother, that my patience has continued for two months. I have frequently been induced to throw it aside altogether, but feeling assured that you and my other friends are expecting something of this kind I am induced to send it with all its imperfections. This letter, dreadful as are the scenes herein described, gives you but a faint idea of the awful reality. The anguish, the agony of mind, resulting from a thousand little circumstances impossible to delineate on paper, can be known by those only who have been in similar situations. Pray for us, my dear brother and sister, that these heavy afflictions may not be in vain, but may be blessed to our spiritual good, and the advancement of Christ's church among the heathen."

At the close of this long and melancholy narrative, we may appropriately introduce the following tribute to the benevolence and talents of Mrs. Judson, written by one of the English prisoners, who were confined at Ava with Mr. Judson. It was published in a Calcutta paper after the conclusion of the war:

"Mrs. Judson was the author of those eloquent and forcible appeals to the government, which prepared them by degrees for submission to terms of peace, never expected by any, who knew the hauteur and inflexible pride of the Burman court.

"And while on this subject, the overflowing of grateful feelings, on behalf of myself and fellow-prisoners, compel me to add a tribute of public thanks to that amiable and humane female, who, though living at a distance of two miles from our prison, without any means of conveyance, and very feeble in health, forgot her own comfort and infirmity, and almost every day visited us, sought out and administered to our wants, and contributed in every way to alleviate our misery.

"While we were left by the government destitute of food, she, with unwearied perseverance, by some means or other, obtained for us a constant supply.

"When the tattered state of our clothes evinced the extremity of our distress, she was ever ready to replenish our scanty wardrobe.

"When the unfeeling avarice of our keepers confined us inside, or made our feet fast in the stocks, she, like a ministering angel, never ceased her applications to the government, until she was authorized to communicate to us the grateful news of our enlargement, or of a respite from our galling oppressions.

"Besides all this, it was unquestionably owing, in a chief degree, to the repeated eloquence, and forcible appeals of Mrs. Judson, that the untutored Burman was finally made willing to secure the welfare and happiness of his country, by a sincere peace."

Chapter XX: Persecutions Of The Wesleyan Missionaries In The West Indies

CHAPTER XX.

PERSECUTION OF THE WESLEYAN MISSIONARIES IN THE WEST INDIES.

The exertions of Christians to spread the truths of the gospel among the Africans in the West Indies, have met with much opposition from the white population. Moravian missionaries, at first, sold themselves as slaves, and laboured with the negroes on the plantations for the purpose of preaching the gospel during the intervals of labour. The Methodist missionaries have been treated with much indignity, and have had their lives endangered by the violence of the white mob. In 1816, the white rabble of Barbadoes, collected together, and totally destroyed the Methodist chapel. The destruction of the chapel occupied two successive nights, and so listless were the authorities, that no attempt was made to prevent it. And when the governor issued a proclamation, offering a reward to any person who should apprehend the leaders in this outrageous proceeding, the mob immediately issued a counter proclamation, threatening with death any one who should dare to comply with the governor's orders.

In August, 1823, an insurrection took place at Demerara, among the negroes, which was most unjustly attributed to the efforts of the missionaries. The principal events in relation to this affair are detailed in the subjoined account from the Missionary Herald.

Various accounts have, from time to time, appeared in the public prints, of the insurrection of the slaves in the colony of Demerara, and of the condemnation of the Rev. Mr. Smith, a missionary from the London Missionary Society, on an accusation of having been accessary to the plot. We have collected and embodied such of the leading facts, relative to these transactions, as have come to our knowledge.

The slaves of many plantations on the eastern coast of Demerara had formed a conspiracy to obtain their freedom. The plot was disclosed by a servant to his master on the 18th of August; not till the conspiracy was thoroughly organized, and arrangements made to secure simultaneous movements; and only a few hours before the time appointed for action. Information was immediately communicated to the commander-in-chief, and the most efficient measures taken; but before a sufficient force could be assembled to resist a large body of negroes, who were immediately under arms, the evening, which was the time for executing the first grand enterprise, had arrived. This was simultaneously to seize upon the whites at the different plantations, confine them in the stocks, and take possession of their arms. This was effected on nearly fifty plantations, containing, inclusive of women and children, 10 or 12,000 negroes. The whites, to the number of about 250, were imprisoned. In some places an ineffectual resistance was made, and several lives lost on both sides.

On the morning of the 19th, the governor issued a proclamation, declaring the colony under martial law, and ordered all who were capable of bearing arms, without distinction, to be immediately enrolled. The most vigorous measures were pursued; and in the course of a few days, after several skirmishes, in which a considerable number of negroes lost their lives, the insurrection was subdued.

A court martial was then constituted, and many of the negroes brought to trial, condemned and executed. Subsequent accounts state that more than 1000 had suffered death, in consequence of the insurrection, and that many of their heads had been fixed up on poles in various parts of the country.

We might easily be more particular in regard to the circumstances of the insurrection, but our object is chiefly to relate what concerns the missionary who was accused of having a part in the scheme, and the other missionaries in the colony. On these points we have to regret that the information which has yet been received is very scanty and in many respects indefinite.

The extract which follows is from the Missionary Chronicle, and was published in the name of the Directors of the London Missionary Society.

The insurrection it should seem, manifested itself first in Mahaica, the district to the east of that in which Mr. Smith resides. Its appearance on the Le Ressouvenir estate, where Mr. Smith resides, was on Monday, the 18th August, in consequence of an order to take into custody two slaves belonging to an adjoining plantation, whom the negroes of the Le Ressouvenir, as the prisoners had to pass over it, rose to rescue. Mr. Smith was at home. He successfully used his endeavours, on perceiving the tumult, to rescue the manager from the negroes, and continued his exertions to induce them to return to their duty, till he himself was driven with violence, and with a weapon held to his body, from the estate.

Mr. Smith was taken into custody on the evening of the 21st August, and all his papers seized. He is kept a prisoner in the Colony-house, and has, since the 24th of August, had a guard stationed over him.

Mr. Elliot, another missionary, who laboured about 20 miles from Mr. Smith, was also taken into custody, on the ground of disobedience of orders, "which he had not understood to be such," in visiting Mr. Smith in his confinement. He was kept about ten days, and then released. No charge was preferred against him. The estates on which he labours had been quiet, and none of the negroes under his instructions were implicated in the rebellion.

In a letter to the Directors of the London Missionary Society, Mr Elliot writes thus:

Numerous false reports have been sent forth against Mr. Smith, but assure yourself and all the directors, that whatever reports you may hear, the only crime the missionaries have committed is their zeal for the conversion of the negroes. They have neither been so weak nor so wicked as to excite the negroes to rebellion. The missionaries want justice only; they have no favour to ask; they have nothing to fear. The missionaries have not degraded their holy calling, nor dishonoured the society of which they are members, by sowing the seeds of rebellion instead of the Word of Life. The real causes of the rebellion are far, very far from being the instructions given by the missionaries.

On the 13th of October, Mr. Smith was brought to trial before a court martial. All the accounts which we have yet seen of the charges brought against him are very obscure and imperfect. The January number of the Missionary Chronicle, from which we have already quoted, says,--

The public papers have stated four charges as forming the indictment against him, but of their accuracy the directors are not enabled to judge. They trust that, under the direction of Divine Providence, he has been able to prove himself guiltless of them all.

It is not, however, to be concealed, that he will have had much to contend with from the violence of public prejudice in the Colony, and it is to be feared from the false assertions of some of the unhappy negroes, whom the hope of favour towards themselves may have led to bring against him "things that he knew not." Indeed, the directors are informed, upon authority on which they can rely, that some of the condemned negroes, finding the hope of life taken away, had in the most solemn manner declared that they had been induced so to act; and that others, on being questioned whether they had not been induced to rebellion by Mr. Smith, had in the strongest terms which their broken language could supply, denied the imputation. It is stated by the writer of one letter, that he has often heard charges circulated against the missionaries, as if spoken by the negroes at the time of their execution, which he knew, (for he was a near spectator,) that they never had uttered.

We can as yet learn little more respecting the evidence which was produced before the court than that some of the negroes testified that the instructions of Mr. Smith had a tendency to make them dissatisfied with their condition, and that he knew of the plot before it was carried into execution.

He was condemned, and sentenced to death. The sentence was however transmitted by the governor, to England, for the consideration and ultimate decision of the king. What we know of the decision will be seen in the following paragraph, copied from the New-York Observer of March 27th.

It appears from the London papers, that "the king has remitted the sentence of death of the court martial on Mr. Smith, the missionary of the London Society in Demerara, (which sentence was accompanied by a recommendation for mercy on the part of the court,) but has given orders that he should be dismissed from the colony, and should come under obligations not to reside within any of his majesty's colonial possessions in the West Indies." The charges against Mr. Smith appear to have originated in the perjury of some of the negroes engaged in the insurrection.

In the mean time Mr. Smith was languishing under the influence of disease, which rendered the stroke of the executioner unnecessary to remove him from the earth. He died in prison, before the intelligence had arrived that his sentence was reversed. The following notice of his death appeared in the Demerara Courant.

Died,--In the Colonial Jail, at Demerara, February 9th, where he had been confined, as a state prisoner since the 26th of November last, on the termination of his trial by the general court martial, on a charge of high treason, sentence thereon having been transmitted to his majesty for his final decision--JOHN SMITH, missionary; he had been in a poor state of health, and had been attended regularly by skilful physicians. We are happy to state, from personal inquiry and inspection, that this unhappy man had the utmost attention and kindness shewn to him, by the humane keeper of the prison, (Mr. Padmore,) all the time of his confinement. His apartment was airy and commodious, he had always at his command every comfort which his taste fancied or his necessities required. He has left a widow to deplore his fate, and deplore his loss.

The conviction which results from the present state of our information on this subject, is that, through prejudice and exasperated feeling, Mr. Smith was condemned, being innocent. The directors of the society under which he laboured, have, however, given us reason to look for further intelligence in a future number of the Missionary Chronicler, which we hope will soon arrive.

It appears that none of the negroes under the instruction of any missionary, either of the London or Wesleyan Missionary Society except Mr. Smith, were implicated in the insurrection. Respecting the Methodists in the colony we quote the following statement from the Wesleyan Methodist Magazine:

We stated in our last number, that Messrs. Mortier and Cheesewright, our missionaries in Demerara were safe, and that only two of the members of our society there had been apprehended on suspicion of being implicated in the late revolt. We have received a second letter from Mr. Mortier, dated Demerara, September seventeenth, which communicated the gratifying intelligence that these two persons, who were servants of the governor, had been liberated upon full conviction of their entire innocence, and that no one of the members of our large society of twelve hundred and sixteen, chiefly slaves, had been in the least concerned in the revolt: and that the slaves of another estate, under the care of Mr. Cheesewright, had not only refused to join the rebels, but had conducted their master to a vessel, by which he reached Georgetown in safety.

Case of Rev. John Smith.

The London Missionary Chronicle for March contains a statement respecting Mr. Smith's case, occupying, with accompanying documents nearly twelve pages, which confirms the impression that Mr. Smith was innocent. The Directors of the London Missionary Society, after stating some circumstances relative to his trial, says.

The Directors having stated these points of serious objection (and more might easily be found,) to the proceedings on the trial, conclude that the members of the society, and the candid beyond its circle, will approve of their declaring that they retain the conviction formerly expressed, of the moral and legal innocence of their missionary, Smith; that they do not withdraw from him their confidence; and that they are "not ashamed of his bonds." They regard him as an unmerited sufferer, in the diligent and faithful, and it may be added, useful discharge of his duties, as a missionary; and they earnestly wish the Divine forgiveness may be extended to those who may have been instrumental in causing his sufferings.

The Rev. Mr. Austin, a clergyman of the church of England, and Chaplain of the Colony, thus expresses his opinion in a private letter.

"I feel no hesitation in declaring, from the intimate knowledge which my most anxious inquiries have obtained, that in the late scourge which the hand of an all-wise Creator has inflicted on this ill-fated country, nothing but those religious impressions which, under Providence, Mr. Smith has been instrumental in fixing--nothing but those principles of the gospel of peace which he has been proclaiming--could have prevented a dreadful effusion of blood here, and saved the lives of these very persons who are now (I shudder to write it,) seeking his."

The following extract of a letter from William Arrindell, Esq. of Demerara, Mr. Smith's counsel, addressed to Mrs. Smith, after the trial, is also inserted.

"It is almost presumptuous in me to differ from the sentence of a Court, but, before God, I do believe Mr. Smith to be innocent; nay, I will go further, and defy any minister, of any sect whatever, to have shewn a more faithful attention to his sacred duties, than he has been proved, by the evidence on his trial, to have done."

The Directors had resolved to take further measures for obtaining, in England the reversal of his sentence.

This subject was brought before the English parliament, and after a full and fair discussion, the innocence of Mr. Smith was established beyond a question. The following from the London Christian Observer gives an account of the proceedings in Parliament.

A debate of two days' continuance on the case of the missionary Smith has taken place in the House of Commons. A motion was made by Mr. Brougham, to express the serious alarm and deep sorrow with which the house contemplated the violation of law and justice, manifested in the unexampled proceedings against Mr. Smith in Demerara, and their sense of the necessity of adopting measures to secure a just and humane administration of law in that colony, and to protect the voluntary instruction of the negroes, as well as the negroes themselves, and the rest of his Majesty's subjects from oppression. This motion was supported by Mr. Brougham with a power of argument and eloquence which has seldom been equalled; and he was followed on the same side by Sir James Mackintosh, Dr. Lushington, Mr. J Williams, Mr. Wilberforce, Mr. Denman, and Sir Joseph Yorke. The motion was opposed by Mr. Horton, Mr. Scarlett, Mr. Tindal, the Attorney General, and Mr. Canning, on the ground, not of the legality of the proceedings, or of the justice of the sentence, but that the motion went to condemn unheard the governor of Demerara, and the court that tried Mr. Smith. On this ground the previous question was moved and carried by 193 to 146, the largest minority in the present session. The division, under all the circumstances of the case may be considered as a triumph. Not an individual attempted to defend the proceedings. In short, nothing could have been more decisive of the innocence of Mr. Smith, and the injustice of his condemnation.

Persecutions of the Wesleyan Methodists in St. Domingo.

We extract from the publications of the Wesleyan Missionary Society, the following account of the aggressions committed upon the Protestant population of Hayti, by the Roman Catholics of that Island, during the year 1824.

Persecutions at Port au Prince.

The following extracts from the journal of Mr. St. Denis, and letters of Mr. Pressoir, members of the Methodist Society at Port au Prince, we copied from the Wesleyan Magazine. The first extracts are from the journal of Mr. St. Denis.

On Sunday, Feb. 2d, our assembly was held at Belair. During the morning service several stones were thrown.

Feb. 4. Whilst we were singing, a shower of stones was thrown, but no one received any injury.

That evening (Feb. 7th) we had a small assembly of thirty-two persons. A plan had been laid for apprehending us, which was put in execution. We had time to sing a hymn, read a chapter, and a homily; but whilst singing the second hymn, the noise of the soldiers was so great in approaching our house of prayer, that we were obliged to cease singing. Wishing, however, to continue our meeting, an officer of the police said, "In the name of the law, leave off that prayer!" Then we left off. Not finding J. C. Pressoir, they made me his second. We were taken to general Thomas's, who pretended to be ignorant of the matter. Colonel Victor pretended to be ignorant also. When we reached the house of the Juge de Paix, we were ordered to halt for a moment. Colonel Victor knocked at his door, the Juge de Paix asked who we were, and was answered, "A band of methodists." The Juge de Paix said, "Ha! ha! take them to the jail!" Col. Victor replied, "Yes!" We were led to prison, and each of our names was taken. The sisters were put in the debtor's place, and the men were shut up in close confinement.

The next morning, the person who keeps the keys of the prison under the jailer told us, that the Juge de Paix would not allow our door to be opened; but the jailer went and spoke respecting it, and our door was opened about nine o'clock. A moment after the Juge de Paix came to visit us, and addressing himself to me in anger, I wished to reply: he would not listen to me; but began to blaspheme religion, despising the Lord. He withdrew in anger, without being able to do any thing with us. A moment after he left us, we were taken into the debtor's prison, near to the sisters, in a separate chamber.

When Mr. Pressoir heard of this event, he visited his brethren at the prison. The following extract is from one of his letters.

I would not run into prison of my own accord, but having waited, and finding nothing was said to us, I went to see my brethren and sisters. I found there were thirty-two, and St. Denis preparing to write to the president, which he did, and I carried this letter to his excellency, by which we requested him to cause us to be judged, and punished, if we were found guilty by the law. When I arrived under the piazza of the palace, I asked an officer on duty if I could see the president, who answered, Yes. I entered the hall, where I found the president seated, and surrounded by a circle, as well of officers as civilians. After saluting them, I presented the letter to the president, who asked me from whence it came. I replied, "From the methodists who are in prison." His good humour was immediately changed. "Methodists," said he, "I did not know that." Colonel Victor, who was present, thinking that through fear I would wish to conceal myself, addressed himself to the president, saying, "President, this is a methodist," as if the president did not know it. Immediately the president replied, "You are fanatics." "Pardon me, president, we are not." "Why, you have changed your religion." "If I have changed my religion, president, it is the government which has made me do it." "How is that?" said he. "It was the late president who sent for the missionaries. I heard the letter read, and saw the late president's signature: this is what I can tell you." "Enough, enough," said he, "I will send an answer." I went to the prison and waited till it was late; but hearing nothing, and being ill of the fever, I returned to my mother's.

The next day orders were given for the brethren and sisters to appear before the chief judge. A dollar was demanded of each on leaving prison, and they were conducted by a single serjeant. On their arrival the chief judge forbade them, in the name of the president, to assemble together again. "No one can hinder you from worshipping God as you please; but let every one abide at home, for as often as you are found assembled you shall be put in prison; and if you unhappily persist, I have received orders to disperse you every where." Several wished to reply, but he refused to listen, saying, "It is not from me; it is not my fault; these orders are given me." All our brethren and sisters went out, animated with a holy zeal, determining not to abandon their assemblies. The next day we were assembled. After an exhortation we sung a hymn which being finished, we kneeled down to pray: a shower of stones came, as if they would have demolished the house, and have stoned us like Stephen. With one accord we commended ourselves to our faithful Creator, and continued in prayer till they had ceased.

In a subsequent letter, dated July 31st, he writes:--

Since the Lord has granted us the favour of meeting again, we have continued our assemblies without intermission, although forbidden to do this under pain of prison and exile. The only interruption we meet with is bad words, and a few stones now and then; and I am become so marked, that I cannot go out without people crying after me, "Methodist! Parson!"--with a contemptuous sneer, and a thousand other things not fit to write, but which serve only to strengthen my faith in the promises of Him who is faithful; till last Sunday some foolish young women came to revile us; and on Tuesday evening, whilst reading, stones were thrown, and whilst we were at prayer a great number rushed in, armed with sabres, sticks, and, if I mistake not, with stones, crying out, "In the name of the law," as if they had been authorized by the heads of the people to arrest us. This band consisted of boys, led on to commit disorders by a set of idle, good-for-nothing persons, of the worst class, who had armed themselves with sabres, and were disguised with old cocked hats; trying thus to show their bravery over those who would make no resistance. But the hairs of our head are all numbered; nor have they been permitted to hurt any of us to the present. It would be useless for us to ask or hope for the protection of the law; and we are thus led to place all our confidence in God, who can and will deliver us in his time. And if the Lord is for me, of whom should I be afraid? He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for me, will he not with him freely give me all things? I have already experienced that all my sufferings for his name are great blessings to me. All my care is about His church; and what wisdom does it require to conduct so many persons of such different dispositions! I feel new wants daily.

The following brief view of the persecutions of the methodists, in Hayti, is taken from "Missionary Notices," published by the Wesleyan Missionary Society. This account gave some particulars in addition to those narrated in the details inserted above:

We regret to find,--say the committee of that society,--from the following letter received from Mr. Pressoir, that our poor persecuted society at Port-au-Prince, so long the object of popish rancour, has again had to sustain the brutal outrages of an ignorant mob, incited it would seem, in another place, by persons calling themselves "respectable," and without experiencing any protection from the local authorities. The committee have endeavoured to obtain for them the common protection of the laws of their own country, by applications through various quarters, and hope they may be ultimately successful. In the mean time this excellent and suffering people are entitled to the special sympathies, and earnest prayers, of the friends of missions. We trust that they may yet, by their meek and patient suffering, and heroic perseverance, obtain that liberty of worship which they so earnestly desire.

The letter from Mr. Pressoir is dated about a year since. The following extracts describe the violence of the mob:

I have read of many instances of martyrdom for the testimony of Jesus Christ, but I have not yet read a passage which relates that the people of a city rose up like murderers, with a very few exceptions, to stone a few persons met together in a house, as our fathers, mothers, brethren, and children have done unto us not long ago. O cruel people! They began to throw stones at us at five o'clock in the afternoon, and continued their assaults till ten o'clock, committing all kinds of violence. They broke down the doors, broke open the windows, destroyed the first and second partitions in the upper chambers; in a word, every thing that was in the house, and beat with their cowskin-whips the brethren and sisters there, without showing compassion for either age or youth or even infancy. I believe I suffered the least of any. Only a great emissary of Satan, seized my left hand, and lifting up his whip declared he would knock me down, if I did not say "Almighty God, the Virgin Mary." My only answer was, turning my back. Several times he even brought his whip to my neck, and afterwards laid it on my shoulder, raging and abusing me with all the fury of Anti-christ. But he that numbered my hairs did not allow one of them to fall to the ground. Thanks be to him for confidence in his holy word, which is firmer than heaven on earth. When the populace entered to knock down our sisters I was in the first chamber, and hearing their cries, I tried to force my way to them, to try if I could render them any assistance; then the tyrant persecutor struck me several times on my hat, but I received no injury. But we were in great danger; those who wished to go out were stoned, beaten, torn, outraged, and brought back to the house, where they exercised their dark cruelty. It appeared as if Satan was unchained, and had come forth to make war against those whom the truth of the gospel had made free, and to crush those who had believed the testimony of the Son of God.

I ask, then, by whom have we been protected, and delivered unto this day? Was it by magistrates, judges, and police officers? Or by the other guards appointed to appease riots and defend the law? It is true, they were present in great numbers, but it was rather to advise and direct others. Some brought barrows full of stones, and others threw them, and said to the cruel populace, that, since we were so obstinate, the government had given us into their hands, and they might do to us whatever they pleased; and they did treat us with inhumanity and the greatest violence.

It was impossible to go out without being beaten, stoned, dragged, abused, and covered with dirt, and in the end we could neither buy nor sell without being dragged before a magistrate, beat, and covered with spitting and mud, and all kinds of outrages. They went beyond Porte Marchant to brother Floran's, sister Claire's, and J. P. J. Lusant's. At brother Floran's they destroyed every thing in the garden, and treated his wife, already broken with age, with the greatest inhumanity; dragging sister Claire by her feet out of the house, as also her god-daughter. And at J. P. J. Lusant's what disorders have they not committed amongst those poor persons, who have fled from the town to have some tranquility. I must tell you one circumstance which J. P. J. L. told me, to show you the cowardice of persecutors; five or six of them entered his gate, concealing their swords, making up to him with loud vociferations; seeing them coming, he went into his house, took an old rusty musket without flint, and levelling it at them, they all instantly fled with all speed, saying, "The Quakers don't carry arms, and see this old Quaker hero intends killing us."

Alluding to the letter of Mr. Pressoir, above noticed, and to other communications received about the same time, the Wesleyan Committee remark, in their publication for July, 1824.

In a recent number we laid before our readers some extracts of letters from our afflicted and persecuted society at Port-au-Prince, Hayti; from which it appeared that several of them had again been called to suffer bonds for the cause of Christ; that the house in which they were in the habit of assembling for religious worship was demolished; and that they themselves were delivered up to the will of a blind and infuriated populace, the magistrates refusing to afford them any protection against the outrages to which they were daily exposed. From later communications we learn, that, on an appeal being made by letter to the president, those in prison were set at liberty; and that a proclamation was made by his excellency's orders, forbidding any one to stone, injure, or otherwise persecute the methodists, but at the same time prohibiting all meetings of our society for religious worship; on pain of being arrested.

Notwithstanding the above proclamation, our people have still to suffer, in various ways, the insults and persecutions of the rabble. They continue, as they are able, and can find opportunity, to meet together for prayer, &c.

The letter to president Boyer shows very clearly the pacific character and object of these protestants. It is too important a part of these documents to be omitted.

President,--You are acquainted with our society, formed here six years ago. The end of our meeting together is, to invoke the blessing of God, not only on ourselves, but also on the government, its magistrates, and even on those who evil entreat us without cause; for we do not hate them, nor render evil for evil. This is what our religion commands. It is not that we wish by our meetings to disobey our president; but our desire is to obey God our sovereign, and his law requires that we should love the head that he has placed over us.

We know that your excellency will not approve the conduct of those who have stoned and evil entreated us without cause. We have been treated as enemies to the government, yet are not such. Yesterday we were arrested and put in prison, by order of general Thomas, who at once without examination, pronounced our sentence. And we know this was not by order of the president, which renders it our indisputable duty to give you information thereof.

President, let our society be narrowly examined, and if fault is found in us, we are willing to suffer the punishment we merit.

Confidently expecting your favourable reply, we have the honour of saluting you most respectfully.

To this letter the president did not reply, but ordered those, who had been arrested, to be set at liberty. Ten days after the date of the letter to the president, a letter was written, from which the following paragraphs are taken. The concluding sentences open the way for putting a favourable construction on the intentions of the president.

A proclamation was made in the name of general Thomas, commandant of the place, to prevent any one from throwing stones at the methodists, forbidding every one to evil entreat them, or to go before their houses to insult them. But by that proclamation we were also forbidden to meet together, and informed that should we meet, the police is ordered to arrest us; but as for the people, they ought not to interfere, nor throw stones, because we are citizens of the republic. This is the substance of the proclamation.

Although this proclamation was made, yet the people did not cease to ill treat us, and cry after us, as we went along. General Thomas gets out of that affair by saying, that they only made use of his name when he had nothing to do in it. "But, take care," said he, "if that continue, that it do not cost the life of some one."

One of our sisters visited the president, to whom she made her complaints, and informed him that it was said, that it was by his order that these things were done. He received her very politely, assured her that this was not so, but that he was exceedingly sorry that we should be improperly treated, and that he had written to general Thomas to that effect, and if the general did not attend to his orders he could not hold any command in the republic. In consequence of this the general made the above proclamation. The president also told her, that he could not allow us to hold our meetings, because we were not in peace; that France was proposing to march upon us, &c. &c. Since the last persecution, we enjoy, by the grace of God, the means of praying, when several of us meet together.

Chapter XXI: Persecutions In Switzerland From 1813 To 1830

CHAPTER XXI.

PERSECUTIONS IN SWITZERLAND FROM 1813 TO 1830.

The information contained in the following account of the persecution in Switzerland, is derived principally from the Christian Spectator and the London Christian Observer.

Scarcely any country of Continental Europe, has excited so deep an interest in the minds of Americans, as Switzerland. Its valleys and lakes, its streams and cataracts, its lofty mountains and the seas of ice and deserts of snow which crown their summits, have been the Ultima Thule of the traveller, from whatever land. But we have dwelt upon them from the very days of boyhood, with an interest belonging to scarcely any thing earthly, because we regarded all this magnificent and beautiful display, as the mere scenery and decoration of the stage, on which an important act in the great drama of liberty, was exhibited. In the christian, these magnificent objects awaken emotions perhaps less tumultuous, but deeper and more elevating; for it is here that another scene of that great drama was early opened, involving interests incomparably more valuable, and a struggle far more deadly, not for the civil liberty of Switzerland, but to free the world from a tyranny, in comparison with which, that of Austrian dukes was paternal kindness,--a despotism that held the soul itself chained to the papal throne, and assumed the triple crown of heaven and earth and hell, which its representative still wears. To the christian, the names of Tell and Winkelreid, sink into insignificance beside those of Zuingle and Calvin; and the war of Swiss independence scarcely deserves a thought, in comparison with that struggle for the moral reformation of the world, in which these men were such distinguished actors, and to whose influence we ourselves owe that religious liberty, which is the most precious part of our birthright.

But it is an humbling reflection, that the palladium of liberty could not be kept inviolate, even in the fastnesses of the Alps. A few years only have elapsed, since some of the fairest portions of this "land of the free," were held as conquered tributaries by other cantons, and were governed by a bailiff residing in his castle, and exercising a power like that of a feudal baron. A considerable portion of Switzerland is still subject to an aristocracy, as absolute in its sway, and as much opposed to the extension of light and liberty, as any other branch of the holy alliance. The press is, in many cantons, under severe restrictions, and industry and enterprise are checked by the regulations of the incorporated trades, which place the rod of oppression in the hands of ignorance and self-interest; and which bring home its influence to the work-bench of the mechanic, and too often paralyze the arm of laborious poverty. Within ten years, and in one of the most enlightened cantons, men and women have been arrested, and fined, and imprisoned, in the most cruel manner, for assembling to read the word of God; have even been banished under pain of death, and without any passport to secure them from imprisonment as vagrants in the neighbouring countries, merely for preaching and hearing the gospel, out of the established church.

In the protestant churches of German Switzerland, the Helvetic confession and the Heidelberg catechism, both in the strictest sense orthodox, are recognized as standards of faith. This, however, is the only bond of union between the different portions of the Helvetic church. The spiritual concerns of each canton are under the direction of what is called the "church council," established by the government, and composed of some of its members united with some of the clergy. This body license, locate and pay the clergy; and form the court of appeal in the affairs of the church. A congregation have no voice in the selection of their pastor. Baptism and confirmation, or admission to the Lord's supper, in the established church, are required by law, as indispensable to the exercise of civil rights; and the latter ceremony is generally regarded as a mere introduction into life. In the canton of Berne, no person can enter the most menial station as a domestic, without exhibiting his certificate of communion; and so far is this from being an obsolete law, that we have known a person incur its penalty, because he delayed for a few days the exhibition of this certificate to the police. In this canton, (and we believe in most others,) no person can be excluded from the communion, except by government; and, as a necessary consequence, no discipline exists in the church. The Lord's supper is received with great regularity by the whole parish; and in some districts at least, the opinion prevails, that this ordinance is a seal of the pardon of their sins.

Such is the external state of the church in German Switzerland. In regard to its spiritual condition, we have little encouraging to present. The mercenary troops which Switzerland has so long been accustomed to sell to France, Spain and Italy, have usually brought back corrupt principles and licentious habits; and the young men of patrician families, from whom the rulers are ultimately chosen, have been prepared, by serving as officers to these troops, to exert a baneful influence upon their country. Those who were destined to the ministry, or to the learned professions, were accustomed to seek an education, if possible, in the German universities, where they would imbibe a taste for any thing but evangelical principles. Rousseau, Voltaire, and Gibbon, during their residence in Switzerland, contributed not a little to the increase of infidelity; and the French revolution seemed to sweep away the landmarks of religion and morality, and to banish whatever might have remained, of the character of Switzerland, from the portions to which its emissaries had immediate access.

It will not be supposed that the church escaped untainted, amidst all these causes of corruption. The feeling which we found extensively prevalent, that it was indecorous to inquire into the opinions of the clergy and the doctrines actually maintained in the church, and which presented a serious obstacle to investigation on this subject, sufficiently indicates, that there is something which will not bear a comparison with the public standard. But more unequivocal evidence of the change of opinion is found in the fact, that candidates for the ministry are now only required to avow their belief in the new testament, and these regulations are avowedly adopted, in order not to exclude those who are called "liberal" or "rational" in their opinions.

We trust indeed, that there are many thousands in Switzerland, who have not bowed the knee to Baal, in any form. We believe especially, that in the cantons of Basle, Zurich, Appenzell, and Schaffhausen, as well as Geneva and Vaud, there are many faithful ministers of the gospel. We know that in the midst of decayed churches, there are little bands, who, without separating themselves, or exciting public attention, have adopted the principles and the devotional habits of the United Brethren, or Moravians. The missionary seminary at Basle is a radiating point, from which divine truth is going forth to the ends of the earth; and there is a cluster of christian institutions around it, which are a monument of love and zeal. Light is springing up in various directions in the midst of darkness and these first gleamings of the dawn are a sure and delightful presage, that the Sun of righteousness is about to arise upon Switzerland, with healing in its beams.

For several years past, two or three of the clergy of the established church in the city of Berne, have preached the doctrines of the gospel, as exhibited in the standards of the church, with simplicity and faithfulness. Much interest was thus excited in a small number of persons, several of whom were among the class of patricians, and the result might be termed a little revival. Public attention was called to it, by the change of conduct in those who were its subjects. Their consciences would no longer allow them to partake in those violations of the Sabbath, and those questionable amusements which were customary in the world around them; and they felt the need of assembling themselves for social devotion and christian intercourse, during the week. Those who felt reproved by such conduct, spared neither censure nor ridicule. The names of "priest," "methodist," "mummer," etc., were unsparingly applied to them; and in one instance, the windows of a person who was obnoxious on this account, were broken. It is but justice to the government to state, that immediate and vigorous measures were taken to repress all violence; and no one was suffered to interrupt them, so long as they continued in connexion with the established church. Much hostility was indeed expressed against these private assemblies; but so much patrician influence was exerted in their favour, that the government did not venture to execute the threats, sometimes thrown out, of prohibiting them. Pietism continued to increase, from the increased action produced by these social meetings; and the flame was undoubtedly nourished by the conversation and correspondence of pious British travellers, whose influence may now be traced in every part of the continent, from Calais to Naples, and exhibits one of these remarkable traits in the divine government, by which the seed of the word is scattered over the world, often by the consent of those who wish to destroy it. The wealth of the English gives them access every where. Even the court of Rome, rather than lose this source of revenue, allows heresy to rear its standard of rebellion on the banks of the Tiber; and the efforts of such as are piously disposed to spread light around them, are winked at, to avoid offending or alarming the national spirit, even of those who are devoted to the pleasures of the world.

During the year 1828, a small number of the persons who were thus awakened, felt it their duty to separate themselves entirely from the established church. Their consciences were wounded by the prostitution of the ordinance of the supper, in admitting all who chose to come; since many of the openly vicious, and a multitude who had no apparent interest in religion, belonged to the number. They urged the necessity of discipline from Matt. xvi. and xviii., 1 Cor. v., etc., and maintained that that could not be deemed a church of Christ, which tolerated vice in its very bosom. They felt themselves bound by the precept, 2 Thess. iii. 6, 14, 15, and 2 John 10, 11, to withdraw from a church in which the gospel was not generally preached; and which cherished in its bosom, so many who crucified Christ afresh, and whom they considered themselves as recognizing as brethren, by partaking of the same bread and the same cup. This measure was promoted by a person who had been banished from the canton de Vaud; and who was received at Berne, under a pledge to the police, that he would not speak of separation. The violation of this pledge led to his expulsion, which was the first act of the government on this subject. This excited no serious opposition, since those who agreed with him in sentiment, did not approve of his violation of truth. It did not however prevent the continuance of the assemblies of separatists, and their distinct avowal of their sentiments; and they obtained from a member of the government belonging to the established church, the use of a room to his own house, on condition that nothing should be said there in direct promotion of separatism.

This decided course of conduct, notwithstanding many hints and threats, placed the government in an embarrassing situation. Eight years before, the canton of Vaud had treated a similar sect (of which indeed, some of these very individuals had been members) with great severity; but with so little effect, that their number had been constantly increasing, and their spirit had been diffused through a large number of the established churches; to the great annoyance of those who did not love the gospel. Thus warned of the danger of violent measures, and yet anxious to find reasons for expelling the leaders of the obnoxious party, they directed the superintendent of the police to keep them and their assemblies under constant and rigid inspection; and all who were concerned with them, were watched with the same view. At the same time, one of the evangelical clergymen was sent for, and warned to alter his mode of preaching; and although he did not approve or preach separation, he was accused of contributing to the excitement of feeling, which gave rise to it, by his mode of exhibiting the doctrines of the bible. We need scarcely add, that the warning was without effect on this faithful minister of Christ.

In the year 1813, a few pious individuals began to meet in private, for the purpose of seeking and cherishing that holy truth which was banished from the public assemblies. These persons were directed by some students of theology, among whom was M. Empaytaz. The venerable company of pastors soon heard of these unauthorized proceedings, and lost no time in evincing their disapprobation respecting them. M. Empaytaz, was especially marked out as the object of their displeasure; and they refused to ordain him, unless he would avoid every religious assembly which had not their sanction. He chose rather to incur their anathema than to wound his conscience, and departed from the city.

But the light had broke forth, and it was not easy again to extinguish it. The honourable company seem to have been extremely troubled as to the course to be pursued. To sit still, however, was to yield to the rising spirit of reformation, and they determined to bestir themselves. Accordingly, after due deliberation, they issued certain regulations, bearing date May 3, 1817, which they hoped would be received as articles.

These articles however, did not produce the anticipated effect. The doctrine of the divinity of Christ, and others equally offensive to Unitarians, continued to be preached. In 1818, M. Malan, a pious orthodox divine, was deprived of his place of regent of the college; and another, M. Mejanel, was ordered to quit Geneva.

For some time, however, the individuals who retained their allegiance to the Helvetic Confession, and remained at Geneva, still held their meetings, with little other provocation than that of a few hard names, such as "enthusiasts," "Nazarenes," "advocates for exploded doctrines," &c., which the Unitarians, in the exuberance of their wit, and the overflowing of their liberality, had the gratification to bespatter them. These attacks produced very little impression upon the persons assailed. The arguments next adopted, were calculated to supply the defect. About the beginning of July, 1818, the place of meeting being changed, when the persons assembled, they found a large mob prepared to insult them. These enlightened and worthy abettors of the reformed church of Geneva, and citizens of that free republic, assembled at the house of meeting, and vociferated amidst other expressions of hostility--we transcribe the words with shame and horror,--A bas Jesus Christ! A bas les Moraves! A mort, a la lanterne, &c. and pursued the obnoxious ministers as they came out, with similar cries. Neither did they stop here: their valour and zeal, as is the case with all mobs, became more impetuous as they were not resisted. "Our silence," says one who was present, "in the midst of these insults, did not satisfy them: we had to suffer menaces, maledictions; stoning through the streets, and the violation of our houses." Had not the police exerted themselves to suppress these disorders, the consequences would probably have been still more fearful.

Persecution in the Pays de Vaud.

In the month of December, 1823, a letter was addressed by three young men, ministers of that canton, and subsequently signed by a few others, to the council of state, intimating a determination to withdraw from the established church, and requesting permission to constitute places of worship independent of it. The cause assigned was, that the Helvetic Confession had been virtually set aside, both by pastors and people; and that the discipline of the church was annihilated. Their plan was to preach according to that Confession, and to restore the discipline.

The petition to the council of state is dated Dec. 24, 1823. The official answer bears date Jan. 15, 1824; and has all the formalities with which the spirit of intolerance and persecution generally invests itself, and is signed, Le Landamman en Charge, F. Clavel, Le Chandelier, Boisot. In this instrument, the ministers and their friends are called "Momiers;" and it is summarily decreed, that those who separate themselves from the national church shall not be tolerated; that the justices of the peace, &c. are specially charged instantly to dissolve their meetings, and to report their proceedings to the council of state, and every person who attends these prohibited assemblies, and who has disobeyed the orders to leave them, and rendered it necessary to employ force, shall be imprisoned three days, besides the possible infliction of other pains and penalties; and that all persons whose measures shall have tended to gain proselytes, shall be fined 600 livres, or imprisoned two years; the same punishment to be awarded to him who furnishes a place of meeting, or who has called or directed a prohibited assembly, or who has taken any part whatever in quality of a chief or director. The above decree was accompanied by a circular, dated Jan. 16, 1824, emanating from the same high quarter, addressed to the justices of the peace, municipalities, &c. and conceived in the same spirit with its respectable associate.

This iniquitous and anti-christian enactment has been carried into effect in several instances. M. Charles Rochat, minister of the gospel, of the Canton de Vaud, of a respectable family, and whose brother is one of the national clergy, of the Canton, is the first on whom the severity of the law has fallen. Five persons were found seated round a table in his own house, with the bible open before them: the wife of M. Rochat, a common friend, with two of his sisters, and a young person, a stranger. This was the whole crime. M. Rochat was found guilty of reading in his own house, before his wife and four friends, a chapter of the New Testament! For this he was at first condemned to three year's banishment, which, however, the tribunal of appeal reduced to one year.

Next, M. Olivier was banished for two years, by the sentence of the same law.

Like judgments have been pronounced against M. M. Chavannes, Juvet, and Fivas, of whom, the two former, were previously confined ten weeks in prison.

Two females also were banished by the judgment de premiere instant, of the tribunal of Orbe and Yverden, on the charge of similar meetings being held at their houses; one of whom, however, has been since acquitted at Lausanne, as it was proved that she lived with her mother, and consequently that it was at her house, and not at hers, that some friends, after dinner, read the bible together.

But it is not merely in the Canton de Vaud that these enormous instances of injustice have occurred: at Neufchatel, an act of arbitrary power has just been committed, almost incredible from its severity. An old law, long obsolete, has been discovered, which, it seems, was passed two or three hundred years back. An agriculturer has been made the first victim of its revived powers. He received into his house M. Juvet, one of the condemned ministers of the Canton de Vaud, and allowed him to administer the sacrament. For this crime he was thrown into prison for three months, and was then brought up in chains, and with a rope drawn tight round his neck, to receive sentence. Ten years banishment was the punishment pronounced; and that if he shall attempt to return before the expiration of this term, he is to be marked with a hot iron for the first offence, and for the second to be hanged. No passport was given him, so that he was left to be hunted about from place to place, like the most degraded criminal. This worthy man, whose name was Maguin, has a wife and three children, for whom he has now no means of procuring a support. [Wilson's Tour, 2d ed. page 325.]

These atrocities were practised by those who claim to be the only enlightened and liberal characters of our day--by Unitarians and Socinians--by men too, whose complaints respecting bigotry and intolerance, have been the burden of many a long article, expressly designed to represent orthodoxy as peculiarly relentless and cruel.

A large number of Swiss pastors have been driven into banishment, by the inquisitorial proceedings of those who style themselves the liberal party in Switzerland. Many of the exiles are now residing in different parts of France, mostly near the frontiers of their own country--others have found a home in different parts of Switzerland.

One of them is now in that place where the wicked cease from troubling--and another seems rapidly advancing to it. M. Juvet, who signed, with two other ministers, the letter to the "Council of State," having been banished from his own canton, sought an asylum in another canton: this was refused. He then retired to Ferney Voltaire, and pursued his labors. He was at that time weak from a pulmonary consumption; but he ventured on an excursion to L'Isle of Mantrichen, to visit those who were disposed to hear the word of God. "He was insulted, attacked and pursued by the populace, from town to town; and at Le Isle, where he arrived quite exhausted, and in profuse perspiration, he was thrown into a cold dungeon, with only a chair and some chopped straw, on which to pass the night. His friends were not permitted to give him either food, fire, or clothing, and in this state he was detained fifteen hours." For two months he was confined in the prison of Yverden, under circumstances of severe illness and medical attendance was denied him. After leaving the prison, he was presently arrested and expelled the commune. Under such accumulated sufferings, nature at length gave way: he slept in the Lord; and among his last prayers were petitions for his persecutors whether the magistrates or the mob.

Recent information from Geneva, and the other cantons of Switzerland, inform us that the spirit of persecution is still exhibited by the liberal party in that country. Those who adhere to the Helvetic Confession, and preach conformably to the doctrines of the creed of the established church, are called "Momiers," "enthusiasts," and other terms equally, unkind and unchristian. The liberal, or infidel party, do not confine themselves simply to reproaches. They disturb the places of public worship--they stone the people as they return from their devotions--they arraign them before civil tribunals for preaching Christ and him crucified--they impose fines upon them, subject them to imprisonment, banishment, and even death itself. All this is done too, in the 19th century, and by those who claim to be the only enlightened and liberal party on the continent.

Chapter XXII: Sketches Of The Lives Of Some Of The Most Eminent Reformers

CHAPTER XXII.

SKETCHES OF THE LIVES OF SOME OF THE MOST EMINENT REFORMERS.

It will not be inappropriate to devote a few pages of this work to a brief detail of the lives of some of those men who first stepped forward, regardless of the bigoted power which opposed all reformation, to stem the tide of papal corruption, and to seal the pure doctrines of the gospel with their blood. Among these, Great Britain has the honor of taking the lead, and first maintaining that freedom in religious controversy which astonished Europe, and demonstrated that political and religious liberty are equally the growth of that favored island. Among the earliest of these eminent persons was

John Wickliffe.

This celebrated reformer, denominated the Morning Star of the Reformation, was born about the year 1324, in the reign of Edward II. Of his extraction we have no certain account. His parents designing him for the church, sent him to Queen's College, Oxford, about that period founded by Robert Eaglesfield, confessor to queen Philippi. But not meeting with the advantages for study in that newly established house which he expected, he removed to Merton College, which was then esteemed one of the most learned societies in Europe.

The first thing which drew him into public notice, was his defence of the University against the begging friars, who about this time, from their settlement in Oxford in 1230, had been troublesome neighbours to the University. Feuds were continually fomented; the friars appealing to the pope, the scholars to the civil power; and sometimes one party, and sometimes the other, prevailed. The friars became very fond of a notion that Christ was a common beggar; that his disciples were beggars also; and that begging was of gospel institution. This doctrine they urged from the pulpit and wherever they had access.

Wickliffe had long held these religious friars in contempt for the laziness of their lives, and had now a fair opportunity of exposing them. He published a treatise against able beggary, in which he lashed the friars, and proved that they were not only a reproach to religion, but also to human society. The University began to consider him one of her first champions, and he was soon promoted to the mastership of Baliol College.

About this time, archbishop Islip founded Canterbury Hall, in Oxford, where he established a warden and eleven scholars. To this wardenship Wickliffe was elected by the archbishop, but upon his demise, he was displaced by his successor, Stephen Langham, bishop of Ely. As there was a degree of flagrant injustice in the affair, Wickliffe appealed to the pope, who subsequently gave it against him from the following cause: Edward the Third, then king of England, had withdrawn the tribute, which from the time of king John had been paid to the pope. The pope menaced; Edward called a parliament. The parliament resolved that king John had done an illegal thing, and given up the rights of the nation, and advised the king not to submit, whatever consequences might follow.

The clergy now began to write in favour of the pope, and a learned monk published a spirited and plausible treatise, which had many advocates. Wickliffe, irritated at seeing so bad a cause so well defended, opposed the monk, and did it in so masterly a way, that he was considered no longer as unanswerable. His suit at Rome was immediately determined against him; and nobody doubted but his opposition to the pope, at so critical a period, was the true cause of his being non-suited at Rome.

Wickliffe was afterward elected to the chair of the divinity professor: and now fully convinced of the errors of the Romish church, and the vileness of its monastic agents, he determined to expose them. In public lectures he lashed their vices and opposed their follies. He unfolded a variety of abuses covered by the darkness of superstition. At first he began to loosen the prejudices of the vulgar, and proceeded by slow advances; with the metaphysical disquisitions of the age, he mingled opinions in divinity apparently novel. The usurpations of the court of Rome was a favourite topic. On these he expatiated with all the keenness of argument, joined to logical reasoning. This soon procured him the clamour of the clergy, who, with the archbishop of Canterbury, deprived him of his office.

At this time, the administration of affairs was in the hands of the duke of Lancaster, well known by the name of John of Gaunt. This prince had very free notions of religion, and was at enmity with the clergy. The exactions of the court of Rome having become very burdensome, he determined to send the bishop of Bangor and Wickliffe to remonstrate against these abuses, and it was agreed that the pope should no longer dispose of any benifices belonging to the church of England. In this embassy, Wickliffe's observant mind penetrated into the constitution and policy of Rome, and he returned more strongly than ever determined to expose its avarice and ambition.

Having recovered his former situation, he inveighed, in his lectures, against the pope--his usurpation--his infallibility--his pride--his avarice--and his tyranny. He was the first who termed the pope Antichrist. From the pope, he would turn to the pomp, the luxury and trappings of the bishops, and compared them with the simplicity of primitive bishops. Their superstitions and deceptions were topics that he urged with energy of mind and logical precision.

From the patronage of the duke of Lancaster, Wickliffe received a good benefice; but he was no sooner settled in his parish, than his enemies and the bishops began to persecute him with renewed vigor. The duke of Lancaster was his friend in this persecution, and by his presence and that of Lord Percy, earl marshal of England, he so overawed the trial, that the whole ended in disorder.

After the death of Edward III. his grandson Richard II. succeeded, in the eleventh year of his age. The duke of Lancaster not obtaining to be the sole regent, as he expected, his power began to decline, and the enemies of Wickliffe, taking advantage of this circumstance, renewed their articles of accusation against him. Five bulls were despatched in consequence by the pope to the king and certain bishops, but the regency and the people manifested a spirit of contempt at the haughty proceedings of the pontiff, and the former at that time wanting money to oppose an expected invasion of the French, proposed to apply a large sum, collected for the use of the pope to that purpose. The question was submitted to the decision of Wickliffe. The bishops, however, supported by the papal authority, insisted upon bringing Wickliffe to trial, and he was actually undergoing examination at Lambeth, when, from the riotous behaviour of the populace without, and awed by the command of sir Lewis Clifford, a gentleman of the court, that they should not proceed to any definitive sentence, they terminated the whole affair in a prohibition to Wickliffe, not to preach those doctrines which were obnoxious to the pope; but this was laughed at by our reformer, who, going about barefoot, and in a long frieze gown, preached more vehemently than before.

In the year 1378, a contest arose between two popes, Urban VI. and Clement VII. which was the lawful pope, and true vicegerent of God. This was a favourable period for the exertion of Wickliffe's talents: he soon produced a tract against popery, which was eagerly read by all sorts of people.

About the end of the year, Wickliffe was seized with a violent disorder, which it was feared might prove fatal. The begging friars, accompanied by four of the most eminent citizens of Oxford, gained admittance to his bed-chamber, and begged of him to retract, for his soul's sake, the unjust things he had asserted of their order. Wickliffe surprised at the solemn message, raised himself in his bed, and with a stern countenance replied, "I shall not die, but live to declare the evil deeds of the friars."

When Wickliffe recovered, he set about a most important work, the translation of the bible into English. Before this work appeared, he published a tract, wherein he showed the necessity of it. The zeal of the bishops to suppress the scriptures, greatly promoted its sale, and they who were not able to purchase copies, procured transcripts of particular gospels or epistles. Afterward, when Lollardy increased, and the flames kindled, it was a common practice to fasten about the neck of the condemned heretic such of these scraps of scripture as were found in his possession, which generally shared his fate.

Immediately after this transaction, Wickliffe ventured a step further, and affected the doctrine of transubstantiation. This strange opinion was invented by Paschade Radbert, and asserted with amazing boldness. Wickliffe, in his lecture before the university of Oxford, 1381, attacked this doctrine, and published a treatise on the subject. Dr. Barton, at this time vice-chancellor of Oxford, calling together the heads of the university, condemned Wickliffe's doctrines as heretical, and threatened their author with excommunication. Wickliffe could now derive no support from the duke of Lancaster, and being cited to appear before his former adversary, William Courteney, now made archbishop of Canterbury, he sheltered himself under the plea, that, as a member of the university, he was exempt from episcopal jurisdiction. This plea was admitted, as the university were determined to support their member.

The court met at the appointed time, determined, at least to sit in judgment upon his opinions, and some they condemned as erroneous, others as heretical. The publication on this subject was immediately answered by Wickliffe, who had become a subject of the archbishop's determined malice. The king, solicited by the archbishop, granted a license to imprison the teacher of heresy, but the commons made the king revoke this act as illegal. The primate, however, obtained letters from the king, directing the head of the university of Oxford to search for all heresies and the books published by Wickliffe; in consequence of which order, the university became a scene of tumult. Wickliffe is supposed to have retired from the storm, into an obscure part of the kingdom. The seeds, however, were scattered, and Wickliffe's opinions were so prevalent, that it was said, if you met two persons upon the road, you might be sure that one was a Lollard. At this period, the disputes between the two popes continued. Urban published a bull, in which he earnestly called upon all who had any regard for religion, to exert themselves in its cause; and to take up arms against Clement and his adherents in defence of the holy see.

A war, in which the name of religion was so vilely prostituted, roused Wickliffe's inclination, even in his declining years. He took up his pen once more, and wrote against it with the greatest acrimony. He expostulated with the pope in a very free manner, and asks him boldly, "How he durst make the token of Christ on the cross (which is the token of peace, mercy and charity) a banner to lead us to slay christian men, for the love of two false priests, and to oppress Christendom worse than Christ and his apostles were oppressed by the Jews? When, said he, will the proud priest of Rome grant indulgences to mankind to live in peace and charity, as he now does to fight and slay one another?"

This severe piece drew upon him the resentment of Urban; and was likely to have involved him in greater troubles than he had before experienced, but providentially he was delivered out of their hands. He was struck with the palsy, and though he lived some time yet in such a way, that his enemies considered him as a person below their resentment. To the last he attended divine worship, and received the fatal stroke of his disorder in his church at Lutterworth, in the year 1384.

Martin Luther.

This illustrious German divine and reformer of the church, was the son of John Luther and Margaret Lindeman, and born at Isleben, a town of Saxony, in the county of Mansfield, November 10, 1483. His father's extraction and condition were originally but mean, and his occupation that of a miner: it is probable, however, that by his application and industry he improved the fortunes of his family, as he afterward became a magistrate of rank and dignity. Luther was early initiated into letters, and at the age of thirteen was sent to school at Madgeburg, and thence to Eysenach, in Thuringia, where he remained four years, producing the early indications of his future eminence.

In 1501 he was sent to the university of Erfurt, where he went through the usual courses of logic and philosophy. When twenty, he took a master's degree, and then lectured on Aristotle's physics, ethics, and other parts of philosophy. Afterward, at the instigation of his parents, he turned himself to the civil law, with a view of advancing himself to the bar, but was diverted from this pursuit by the following accident. Walking out into the fields one day, he was struck by lightning so as to fall to the ground, while a companion was killed by his side; and this affected him so sensibly, that, without communicating his purpose to any of his friends, he withdrew himself from the world, and retired into the order of the hermits of St. Augustine.

Here he employed himself in reading St. Augustine and the school men; but, in turning over the leaves of the library, he accidentally found a copy of the Latin Bible, which he had never seen before. This raised his curiosity to a high degree: he read it over very greedily, and was amazed to find what a small portion of the scriptures was rehearsed to the people. He made his profession in the monastery of Erfurt, after he had been a novice one year; and he took priest's orders, and celebrated his first mass in 1507. The year after, he was removed from the convent of Erfurt to the university of Wittemberg; for this university being just founded, nothing was thought more likely to bring it into immediate repute and credit, than the authority and presence of a man so celebrated, for his great parts and learning, as Luther. In 1512, seven convents of his order having a quarrel with their vicar-general, Luther was chosen to go to Rome to maintain their cause. At Rome he saw the pope and the court, and had an opportunity of observing also the manners of the clergy, whose hasty, superficial, and impious way of celebrating mass, he has severely noted. As soon as he had adjusted the dispute which was the business of his journey, he returned to Wittemberg, and was created doctor of divinity, at the expense of Frederic, elector of Saxony; who had often heard him preach, was perfectly acquainted with his merit, and reverenced him highly. He continued in the university of Wittemberg, where, as professor of divinity, he employed himself in the business of his calling. Here then he began in the most earnest manner to read lectures upon the sacred books: he explained the epistle to the Romans, and the Psalms, which he cleared up and illustrated in a manner so entirely new, and so different from what had been pursued by former commentators, that "there seemed, after a long and dark night, a new day to arise, in the judgment of all pious and prudent men." The better to qualify himself for the task he had undertaken, he applied himself attentively to the Greek and Hebrew languages; and in this manner was he employed, when the general indulgences were published in 1517. Leo X. who succeeded Julius II. in March, 1513, formed a design of building the magnificent church of St. Peter's at Rome, which was, indeed, begun by Julius, but still required very large sums to be finished. Leo, therefore, 1517 published general indulgences throughout all Europe, in favour of those who contribute any sum to the building of St. Peter's; and appointed persons in different countries to preach up these indulgences, and to receive money for them. These strange proceedings gave vast offence at Wittemberg, and particularly inflamed the pious zeal of Luther; who, being naturally warm and active, and in the present case unable to contain himself, was determined to declare against them at all adventures. Upon the eve of All-saints, therefore, in 1517, he publicly fixed up, at the church next to the castle of that town, a thesis upon indulgences; in the beginning of which, he challenged any one to oppose it either by writing or disputation. Luther's propositions about indulgences, were no sooner published, than Tetzel, the Dominican friar, and commissioner for selling them, maintained and published at Francfort, a thesis, containing a set of propositions directly contrary to them. He did more; he stirred up the clergy of his order against Luther; anathematized him from the pulpit, as a most damnable heretic; and burnt his thesis publicly at Francfort. Tetzel's thesis was also burnt, in return, by the Lutherans at Wittemburg; but Luther himself disowned having had any hand in that procedure. In 1518, Luther, though dissuaded from it by his friends, yet, to show obedience to authority, went to the monastery of St. Augustine, at Heidelberg, while the chapter was held; and here maintained, April 26, a dispute concerning "justification by faith," which Bucer, who was present at, took down in writing, and afterward communicated to Beatus Rhenanus, not without the highest commendations. In the meantime, the zeal of his adversaries grew every day more and more active against him; and he was at length accused to Leo X. as a heretic. As soon as he returned therefore from Heidelberg, he wrote a letter to that pope, in the most submissive terms; and sent him, at the same time, an explication of his propositions about indulgences. This letter is dated on Trinity-Sunday, 1518, and was accompanied with a protestation, wherein he declared, that "he did not pretend to advance or defend any thing contrary to the holy scriptures, or to the doctrine of the fathers, received and observed by the church of Rome, or to the canons and decretals of the popes: nevertheless, he thought he had the liberty either to approve or disapprove the opinions of St. Thomas, Bonaventure, and other school-men and canonists, which are not grounded upon any text."

The emperor Maximilian was equally solicitous with the pope about putting a stop to the propagation of Luther's opinions in Saxony; troublesome both to the church and empire. Maximilian, therefore, applied to Leo, in a letter dated August 5, 1518, and begged him to forbid, by his authority, these useless, rash, and dangerous disputes; assuring him also, that he would strictly execute in the empire whatever his holiness should enjoin. In the meantime Luther, as soon an he understood what was transacting about him at Rome, used all imaginable means to prevent his being carried thither, and to obtain a hearing of his cause in Germany. The elector was also against Luther's going to Rome, and desired of cardinal Cajetan, that he might be heard before him, as the pope's legate in Germany. Upon these addresses, the pope consented that the cause should be tried before cardinal Cajetan, to whom he had given power to decide it. Luther, therefore, set off immediately for Augsburg, and carried with him letters from the elector. He arrived here in October, 1518, and, upon an assurance of his safety, was admitted into the cardinal's presence. But Luther was soon convinced that he had more to fear from the cardinal's power, than from disputations of any kind; and, therefore, apprehensive of being seized, if he did not submit, withdrew from Augsburg upon the 20th. But, before his departure, he published a formal appeal to the pope, and finding himself protected by the elector, continued to teach the same doctrines at Wittemberg, and sent a challenge to all the inquisitors to come and dispute with him.

As to Luther, Miltitius, the pope's chamberlain, had orders to require the elector to oblige him to retract, or to deny him his protection; but things were not now to be carried with so high a hand, Luther's credit being too firmly established. Besides, the emperor Maximilian happened to die upon the 12th of this month, whose death greatly altered the face of affairs, and made the elector more able to determine Luther's fate. Miltitius thought it best, therefore, to try what could be done by fair and gentle means, and to that end came to some conference with Luther. During all these treaties, the doctrine of Luther spread, and prevailed greatly; and he himself received great encouragement at home and abroad. The Bohemians about this time sent him a book of the celebrated John Huss, who had fallen a martyr in the work of reformation; and also letters, in which they exhorted him to constancy and perseverance, owning, that the divinity which he taught was the pure, sound, and orthodox divinity. Many great and learned men had joined themselves to him. In 1519, he had a famous dispute at Leipsic with John Eccius. But this dispute ended at length like all others, the parties not the least nearer in opinion, but more to enmity with each other's persons. About the end of this year, Luther published a book, in which he contended for the communion being celebrated in both kinds; which was condemned by the bishop of Misnia, January 24, 1520. While Luther was labouring to excuse himself to the new emperor and the bishops of Germany, Eccius had gone to Rome, to solicit his condemnation; which, it may easily be conceived, was now become not difficult to be attained. Indeed the continual importunities of Luther's adversaries with Leo, caused him at length to publish a formal condemnation of him, and he did so accordingly, in a bull, dated June 15, 1520; this was carried into Germany, and published there by Eccius, who had solicited it at Rome; and who, together with Jerom Alexander, a person eminent for his learning and eloquence, was entrusted by the pope with the execution of it. In the meantime, Charles V. of Spain, after he had set things to rights in the Low Countries, went into Germany, and was crowned emperor, October the 21st, at Aix-la-Chapelle. The diet of Worms was held in the beginning of 1521; which ended at length in this single and peremptory declaration of Luther, that "unless he was convinced by texts of scripture or evident reason (for he did not think himself obliged to submit to the pope or his councils,) he neither could nor would retract any thing, because it was not lawful for him to act against his conscience." Before the diet of Worms was dissolved, Charles V. caused an edict to be drawn up, which was dated the 8th of May, and decreed that Martin Luther be, agreeably to the sentence of the pope, henceforward looked upon as a member separated from the church, a schismatic, and an obstinate and notorious heretic. While the bull of Leo X. executed by Charles V. was thundering throughout the empire, Luther was safely shut up in the castle of Wittemberg; but weary at length of his retirement, he appeared publickly again at Wittemberg, March 6, 1522, after he had been absent about ten months. Luther now made open war with the pope and bishops; and, that he might make the people despise their authority as much as possible, he wrote one book against the pope's bull, and another against the order falsely called "the order of bishops." He published also, a translation of the "New Testament" in the German tongue, which was afterward corrected by himself and Melancthon. Affairs were now in great confusion in Germany; and they were not less so in Italy, for a quarrel arose between the pope and the emperor, during which Rome was twice taken, and the pope imprisoned. While the princes were thus employed in quarrelling with each other, Luther persisted in carrying on the work of the reformation, as well by opposing the papists, as by combating the Anabaptists and other fanatical sects; which, having taken the advantage of his contest with the church of Rome, had sprung up and established themselves in several places.

In 1527, Luther was suddenly seized with a coagulation of the blood about the heart, which had like to have put an end to his life. The troubles of Germany being not likely to have any end, the emperor was forced to call a diet at Spires, in 1529, to require the assistance of the princes of the empire against the Turks. Fourteen cities, viz. Stratsburg, Nuremberg, Ulm, Constance, Retlingen, Windsheim, Memmingen, Lindow, Kempten, Hailbron, Isny, Weissemburg, Nortlingen, S. Gal, joined against the decree of the diet protestation, which was put into writing, and published the 19th of April, 1529. This was the famous protestation, which gave the name of Protestants to the reformers in Germany.

After this, the protestant princes laboured to make a firm league and enjoined the elector of Saxony and his allies to approve of what the diet had done; but the deputies drew up an appeal, and the protestants afterwards presented an apology for their "Confession"--that famous confession which was drawn up by the temperate Melancthon, as also the apology. These were signed by a variety of princes, and Luther had now nothing else to do, but to sit down and contemplate the mighty work he had finished: for that a single monk should be able to give the church of Rome so rude a shock, that there needed but such another entirely to overthrow it, may be well esteemed a mighty work.

In 1533, Luther wrote a consolatory epistle to the citizens of Oschatz, who had suffered some hardships for adhering to the Augsburg confession of faith: and in 1534, the Bible translated by him into German was first printed, as the old privilege, dated at Bibliopolis, under the elector's own hand, shows; and it was published in the year after. He also published this year a book "against masses and the consecration of priests." In February, 1537, an assembly was held at Smalkald about matters of religion, to which Luther and Melancthon were called. At this meeting Luther was seized with so grievous an illness, that there was no hope of his recovery. As he was carried along he made his will, in which he bequeathed his detestation of popery to his friends and brethren. In this manner was he employed till his death, which happened in 1546. That year, accompanied by Melancthon, he paid a visit to his own country, which he had not seen for many years, and returned again in safety. But soon after, he was called thither again by the earls of Mansfelt, to compose some differences which had arisen about their boundaries, where he was received by 100 horsemen, or more, and conducted in a very honourable manner; but was at the same time so very ill, that it was feared he would die. He said, that these fits of sickness often came upon him, when he had any great business to undertake; of this, however, he did not recover, but died February 18, in his 63d year. A little before he expired, he admonished those that were about him to pray to God for the propagation of the gospel; "because," said he, "the council of Trent, which had sat once or twice, and the pope, will devise strange things against it." Soon after, his body was put into a leaden coffin, and carried with funeral pomp to the church at Iselbein, when Dr. Jonas preached a sermon upon the occasion. The earls of Mansfelt desired that his body should be interred in their territories; but the elector of Saxony insisted upon his being brought back to Wittemberg, which was accordingly done; and there he was buried with the greatest pomp that perhaps ever happened to any private man. Princes, earls, nobles, and students without number, attended the procession of this extraordinary reformer; and Melancthon made his funeral oration.

We will close this account of the great founder of the reformation, by subjoining a few opinions, which have been passed upon him, by both papists and Protestants. "Luther," says Father Simon, "was the first Protestant who ventured to translate the Bible into the vulgar tongue from the Hebrew text, although he understood Hebrew but very indifferently. As he was of a free and bold spirit, he accuses St Jerom of ignorance in the Hebrew tongue; but he had more reason to accuse himself of this fault, and for having so precipitately undertaken a work of this nature, which required more time than he employed about it. There is nothing great or learned in his commentaries upon the Bible; every thing low and mean: and though he had studied divinity, he has rather composed a rhapsody of theological questions, than a commentary upon the scripture text: to which we may add, that he wanted understanding, and usually followed his senses instead of his reason."

This is the language of those in the church of Rome who speak of Luther with any degree of moderation; for the generality allow him neither parts, nor learning, nor any attainment intellectual or moral. But let us leave these impotent railers, and attend a little to more equitable judges. "Luther," says Wharton, in his appendix to Cave's Historia Literaria, "was a man of prodigious sagacity and acuteness, very warm, and formed for great undertakings; being a man, if ever there was one, whom nothing could daunt or intimidate. When the cause of religion was concerned, he never regarded whose love he was likely to gain, or whose displeasure to incur." He is also highly spoken of by Atterbury and others.

John Calvin.

This reformer was born at Noyon in Picardy, July 10, 1409. He was instructed in grammar learning at Paris under Maturinus Corderius, and studied philosophy in the college of Montaign under a Spanish professor. His father, who discovered many marks of his early piety, particularly in his reprehensions of the vices of his companions, designed him at first for the church, and got him presented, May 21, 1521, to the chapel of Notre Dame de la Gesine, in the church of Noyon. In 1527 he was presented to the rectory of Marieville, which he exchanged in 1529 for the rectory of Pont l'Eveque, near Noyon. His father afterward changed his resolution, and would have him study law; to which Calvin, who, by reading the scriptures, had conceived a dislike to the superstitions of popery, readily consented, and resigned the chapel of Gesine and the rectory of Pont l'Eveque, in 1534. He made a great progress in that science, and improved no less in the knowledge of divinity by his private studies. At Bourges he applied to the Greek tongue, under the direction of professor Wolmar. His father's death having called him back to Noyon, he stayed there a short time, and then went to Paris, where a speech of Nicholas Cop, rector of the university of Paris, of which Calvin furnished the materials, having greatly displeased the Sarbonne and the parliament, gave rise to a persecution against the protestants, and Calvin, who narrowly escaped being taken in the college of Forteret, was forced to retire to Xaintonge, after having had the honour to be introduced to the queen of Navarre, who had raised this first storm against the protestants. Calvin returned to Paris in 1534. This year the reformed met with severe treatment, which determined him to leave France, after publishing a treatise against those who believe that departed souls are in a kind of sleep. He retired to Basil, where he studied Hebrew: at this time he published his Institutions of the Christian religion; a work well adapted to spread his fame, though he himself was desirous of living in obscurity. It is dedicated to the French king, Francis I. Calvin next wrote an apology for the protestants who were burnt for their religion in France. After the publication of this work, Calvin went to Italy to pay a visit to the duchess of Ferrara, a lady of eminent piety, by whom he was very kindly received.

From Italy he came back to France, and having settled his private affairs, he proposed to go to Strasbourg or Basil, in company with his sole surviving brother, Antony Calvin; but as the roads were not safe on account of the war, except through the duke of Savoy's territories, he chose that road. "This was a particular direction of Providence," says Bayle; "it was his destiny that he should settle at Geneva, and when he was wholly intent upon going farther, he found himself detained by an order from heaven, if I may so speak." At Geneva, Calvin therefore was obliged to comply with the choice which the consistory and magistrates made of him, with the consent of the people, to be one of their ministers, and professor of divinity. He wanted to undertake only this last office, and not the other; but in the end he was obliged to take both upon him, in August, 1536. The year following, he made all the people declare, upon oath, their assent to the confession of faith, which contained a renunciation of popery. He next intimated, that he could not submit to a regulation which the canton of Berne had lately made. Whereupon the syndics of Geneva, summoned an assembly of the people; and it was ordered that Calvin, Farel, and another minister, should leave the town in a few days, for refusing to administer the sacrament.

Calvin retired to Strasbourg, and established a French church in that city, of which he was the first minister: he was also appointed to be professor of divinity there. Meanwhile the people of Geneva entreated him so earnestly to return to them, that at last he consented and arrived September 13, 1541, to the great satisfaction both of the people and the magistrates; and the first thing he did, after his arrival, was to establish a form of church discipline, and a consistorial jurisdiction, invested with power of inflicting censures and canonical punishments, as far as excommunication, inclusively.

Agency of Calvin in the death of Michael Servetus.

It has long been the delight of both infidels and some professed christians, when they wish to bring odium upon the opinions of Calvin, to refer to his agency in the death of Michael Servetus. This action is used on all occasions by those who have been unable to overthrow his opinions, as a conclusive argument against his whole system. Calvin burnt Servetus!--Calvin burnt Servetus! is good proof with a certain class of reasoners, that the doctrine of the Trinity is not true--that divine sovereignty is anti-scriptural,--and christianity a cheat. We have no wish to palliate any act of Calvin's which is manifestly wrong. All his proceedings, in relation to the unhappy affair of Servetus, we think, cannot be defended. Still it should be remembered that the true principles of religious toleration were very little understood in the time of Calvin. All the other reformers then living, approved of Calvin's conduct. Even the gentle and amiable Melancthon expressed himself in relation to this affair, in the following manner. In a letter addressed to Bullinger, he says, "I have read your statement respecting the blasphemy of Servetus, and praise your piety and judgment; and am persuaded that the Council of Geneva has done right in putting to death this obstinate man, who would never have ceased his blasphemies. I am astonished, that any one can be found to disapprove of this proceeding." Farel expressly says, that "Servetus deserved a capital punishment." Bucer did not hesitate to declare, that "Servetus deserved something worse than death." The truth is, although Calvin had some hand in the arrest and imprisonment of Servetus, he was unwilling that he should be burnt at all. "I desire," says he, "that the severity of the punishment should be remitted." "We endeavoured to commute the kind of death, but in vain." "By wishing to mitigate the severity of the punishment," says Farel to Calvin, "you discharge the office of a friend towards your greatest enemy." "That Calvin was the instigator of the magistrates that Servetus might be burned," says Turritine, "historians neither any where affirm, nor does it appear from any considerations. Nay, it is certain, that he, with the college of pastors, dissuaded from that kind of punishment."

It has been often asserted, that Calvin possessed so much influence with the magistrates of Geneva, that he might have obtained the release of Servetus, had he not been desirous of his destruction. This however, is not true. So far from it, that Calvin was himself once banished from Geneva, by these very magistrates, and often opposed their arbitrary measures in vain. So little desirous was Calvin of procuring the death of Servetus, that he warned him of his danger and suffered him to remain several weeks at Geneva, before he was arrested. But his language, which was then accounted blasphemous, was the cause of his imprisonment. When in prison, Calvin visited him, and used every argument to persuade him to retract his horrible blasphemies, without reference to his peculiar sentiments. This was the extent of Calvin's agency in this unhappy affair.

It cannot, however, be denied, that in this instance, Calvin acted contrary to the benignant spirit of the gospel. It is better to drop a tear over the inconsistency of human nature, and to bewail those infirmities which cannot be justified. He declares he acted conscientiously, and publicly justified the act. Cranmer acted the same part towards the poor Anabaptists in the reign of Edward VI. This doctrine they had learned at Rome, and it is certain, that, with a very few exceptions, it was at this time the opinion of all parties. The author of the Memoirs of Literature says, "If the religion of protestants depended on the doctrine and conduct of the reformers, he should take care how he published his account of Servetus; but as the protestant religion is entirely founded on Holy Scripture, so the defaults of the reformers ought not to have any ill influence on the reformation. The doctrine of non-toleration, which obtained to the sixteenth century, among some protestants, was that pernicious error which they had imbibed in the Church of Rome; and I believe, I can say, without doing any injury to that church, that she is, in a great measure, answerable for the execution of Servetus. If the Roman catholics had never put any person to death for the sake of religion, I dare say that Servetus had never been condemned to die in any protestant city. Let us remember, that Calvin, and all the magistrates of Geneva, in the year 1553, were born and bred up in the church of Rome: this is the best apology that can be made for them."--Biographia Evangelica, vol. II. p. 42.

The apostles John and James would have called down fire from heaven; Calvin and Cranmer kindled it on earth. This, however, is the only fault alleged against Calvin; but "Let him that is without sin cast the first stone."

"It ought, however," says a sensible writer, "to be acknowledged that persecution for religious principles was not at that time peculiar to any party of christians, but common to all, whenever they were invested with civil power." It was a detestable error; but it was the error of the age. They looked upon heresy in the same light as we look upon those crimes which are inimical to the peace of civil society; and, accordingly, proceeded to punish heretics by the sword of the civil magistrate. If Socinians did not persecute their adversaries so much as Trinitarians, it was because they were not equally invested with the power of doing so. Mr. Lindsay acknowledges, that Faustus Socinus himself was not free from persecution in the case of Francis David, superintendent of the Unitarian churches in Transylvania. David had disputed with Socinus on the invocation of Christ, and died in prison in consequence of his opinion, and some offence taken at his supposed indiscreet propagation of it from the pulpit. "I wish I could say," adds Mr. Lindsay, "that Socinus, or his friend Blandrata, had done all in their power to prevent his commitment, or procure his release afterwards." The difference between Socinus and David was very slight. They both held Christ to be a mere man. The former, however, was for praying to him; which the latter, with much greater consistency, disapproved. Considering this, the persecution to which Socinus was accessary was as great as that of Calvin; and there is no reason to think, but that if David had differed as much from Socinus, as Servetus did from Calvin, and if the civil magistrates had been for burning him, Socinus would have concurred with them. To this it might be added, that the conduct of Socinus was marked with disingenuity: in that he considered the opinion of David in no very heinous point of light; but was afraid of increasing the odium under which he and his party already lay, among other Christian churches.

It was the opinion, that erroneous religious principles are punishable by the civil magistrate, that did the mischief, whether at Geneva, in Transylvania, or in Britain; and to this, rather than to Trinitarianism, or Unitarianism, it ought to be imputed.

The inflexible rigour with which Calvin asserted, on all occasions, the rights of his consistory, procured him many enemies: but nothing daunted him; and one would hardly believe, if there were not unquestionable proofs of it, that, amidst all the commotions at home, he could take so much care as he did of the churches abroad, in France, Germany, England, and Poland, and write so many books and letters. He did more by his pen than his presence; nevertheless on some occasions, he acted in person, particularly at Frankfort, in 1556, whither he went to put an end to the disputes which divided the French church in that city. He was always employed, having almost constantly his pen in his hand, even when sickness confined him to his bed; and he continued the discharge of all those duties, which his zeal for the general good of the churches imposed on him, till the day of his death, May 27, 1564. He was a man whom God had endowed with very eminent talents; a clear understanding, a solid judgment, and a happy memory: he was a judicious, elegant, and indefatigable writer, and possessed of very extensive learning and a great zeal for truth. Joseph Scaliger, who was not lavish of his praise, could not forbear admiring Calvin; none of the commentators, he said, had so well hit the sense of the prophets; and he particularly commended him for not attempting to give a comment on the Revelation. We understand from Guy Patin, that many of the Roman catholics would do justice to Calvin's merit, if they dared to speak their minds. It must excite a laugh at those who have been so stupid as to accuse him of being a lover of wine, good cheer, company, money, &c. Artful slanderers would have owned that he was sober by constitution, and that he was not solicitous to heap up riches.

That a men who had acquired so great a reputation and such an authority, should yet have had but a salary of 100 crowns, and refuse to accept more; and after living 55 years with the utmost frugality, should leave but 300 crowns to his heirs, including the value of his library, which sold very dear, is something so heroical, that one must have lost all feeling not to admire. When Calvin took his leave of Strasbourg, to return to Geneva, they wanted to continue to him the privileges of a freeman of their town, and the revenues of a prebend, which had been assigned to him; the former he accepted, but absolutely refused the other. He carried one of the brothers with him to Geneva, but he never took any pains to get him preferred to an honourable post, as any other possessed of his credit would have done. He took care indeed of the honour of his brother's family, by getting him freed from an adultress, and obtaining leave for him to marry again; but even his enemies relate that he made him learn the trade of a bookbinder, which he followed all his life after.

Calvin as a friend of civil liberty.

The Rev. Dr. Wisner, in his late discourse at Plymouth, on the anniversary of the landing of the pilgrims, makes the following assertion:--"Much as the name of Calvin has been scoffed at and loaded with reproach by many sons of freedom, there is not an historical proposition more susceptible of complete demonstration than this, that no man has lived to whom the world is under greater obligations for the freedom it now enjoys, than John Calvin." In a note appended to the sermon, Dr. Wisner gives the following testimonies, from history, of the truth of this proposition--testimonies which deserve the more attention, as they come from Calvin's opposers. We copy the note from the Boston Recorder.

"It may not be unacceptable to the reader, to add a few particulars in confirmation of the statement in reference to the influence of Calvin in forming the opinions and character of the Puritans, and thus contributing to the discovery and establishment of the principles of religious and civil liberty.

"The peculiarities of the religious doctrines of the Puritans had an important influence in producing in them determined and persevering resistance to arbitrary power, and a successful vindication of their religious and political rights. The fact is sufficiently illustrated in the quotation in the sermon from the Edinburg Review. It is admitted by Hume, and by all, whatever their religious opinions, who have thoroughly investigated the springs of action in those discoverers, and founders of religious and civil freedom. But the doctrinal views of the Puritans were derived from Calvin.

"Their disapprobation of the rites and ceremonies enjoined by the English government was a prominent means of leading them to the discovery, and stimulating to the successful vindication of the principles of religious and civil liberty. And that disapprobation may be directly traced to the influence of Calvin. With him many of the leading Puritan divines studied theology, and were taught the importance of laying aside the whole mass of popish additions to the simplicity of apostolic worship. When the difficulties arose among the exiles at Frankfort, in Mary's reign, about the use of King Edward's Liturgy, they asked advice of Calvin, "who having perused the English Liturgy, took notice, 'that there were many tolerable weaknesses in it, which, because at first they could not be amended, were to be suffered; but that it behooved the learned, grave, and godly ministers of Christ to enterprise farther, and to set up something more filed from rust, and purer.' 'If religion,' says he 'had flourished till this day in England, many of these things would have been corrected. But since the reformation is overthrown and a church is to be set up in another place where you are at liberty to establish what order is most for edification, I cannot tell what they mean, who are so fond of the leavings of popish dregs.'" When the conformist party had triumphed at Frankfort, they "wrote to Mr. Calvin to countenance their proceedings; which that great divine could not do; but after a modest excuse for intermeddling in their affairs, told them, that, 'in his opinion, they were too much addicted to the English ceremonies; nor could he see to what purpose it was to burden the church with such hurtful and offensive things, when there was liberty to have simple and more pure order.'" The puritan part of the exiles retired to Geneva, and there prepared and published a service book, in the dedication of which they say, that "they had set up such an order as, in the judgment of Mr. Calvin and other learned divines, was most agreeable to scripture, and the best reformed churches. And when, subsequently, the important step was taken, by several puritans in and about London, of breaking off from the established churches and setting up a separate congregation, they adopted for use, (as they say in their 'agreement' thus to separate) a book and order of preaching, administration of sacraments and discipline, that the great Mr. Calvin had approved of, and which was free from the superstitions of the English service."--Neal, i. 152, 153, 154, 155, 252.

But most important of all, in its influence on religious and civil liberty, was the attachment of the puritans to a popular church government. And of the origin of this system, we have the following account from 'the judicious Hooker,' prefixed to his famous work on Ecclesiastical Polity, written expressly against it. "A founder it had, whom, for mine own part, I think incomparably the wisest man that ever the French (protestant) church, did enjoy, since the hour it enjoyed him. His bringing up was in the civil law. Divine knowledge he gathered, not by hearing or reading, so much as by teaching others. For thousands were debtors to him, as touching knowledge in that kind, yet he to none, but only to God, the author of that most blessed fountain the Book of Life, and of the admirable dexterity of wit, together with the helps of other learning, which were his guides. Two things of principal moment there are, which have deservedly procured him honour throughout the world; the one, his exceeding pains in composing the institutions of the christian religion; this other, his no less industrious travels for the exposition of holy scripture, according to the same institutions. In which two things, whosoever they were that after him bestowed their labour, he gained the advantage, of prejudice against them if they gainsayed, and of glory above them if they consented. Of what account the Master of Sentences was in the church of Rome, the same, and more, among the preachers of the reformed churches, Calvin had purchased; so that the perfectest divines were judged they who were skilfulest in Calvin's writings; his books being almost the very canon to judge both doctrine and discipline by."

"These statements are confirmed by abundant testimony from writers of authority who had no good opinion of Calvin or his principles. Says Hume, (History of England, iii. 57,) "These disputes [about ceremonies, &c.] which had been started during the reign of Edward, were carried abroad by the protestants who fled from the persecutions of Mary; and as the zeal of these men had received an increase from the pious zeal of their enemies, they were generally inclined to carry their opposition to the utmost extremity against the practices of the church of Rome. Their communication with Calvin, and the other reformers who followed the discipline and worship of Geneva, confirmed them in this obstinate reluctance; and though some of the refugees, particularly those who were established at Frankfort, still adhered to king Edward's Liturgy, the prevailing spirit carried these confessors to seek a still further reformation."

"The celebrated Dean Swift, in a sermon preached on what tories and high churchmen in England, have styled, "the martyrdom of king Charles I." makes the following statements:--Upon the cruel persecution raised against the protestants under queen Mary, among great numbers who fled the kingdom to seek for shelter, several went and resided at Geneva, which is a commonwealth, governed without a king, where the religion contrived by Calvin is without the order of bishops. When the protestant faith was restored by queen Elizabeth, those who fled to Geneva returned, among the rest, home to England, and were grown so fond of the government and religion of the place they had left, that they used all possible endeavours to introduce both into their own country; at the same time continually preaching and railing against ceremonies and distinct habits of the clergy, taxing whatever they disliked as a remnant of popery; and continued exceedingly troublesome to the church and state, under that great queen, as well as her successor, king James I. These people called themselves puritans, as pretending to a purer faith than those of the established church. And these were the founders of our dissenters. They did not think it sufficient to leave all the errors of popery; but threw off many laudable and edifying institutions of the primitive church, and at last even the government of bishops, which, having been ordained by the apostles themselves, had continued without interruption, in all christian churches, for above fifteen hundred years. And all this they did, not because those things were evil, but because they were kept by the papists. From hence they proceeded, by degrees, to quarrel with the kingly government, because, as I have already said, the city of Geneva, to which their fathers had flown for refuge, was a commonwealth, or government of the people." Having thus stated the foundation and principles of puritanism, the Dean proceeds with an account of its growth till the breaking out of the civil war, and concludes the narrative as follows: "That odious parliament had early turned the bishops out of the House of Lords, in a few years after they murdered their king; then immediately abolished the whole House of Lords; and so, at last obtained their wishes of having a government of the people, and a new religion, both after the manner of Geneva, without a king, a bishop, or a nobleman; and this they blasphemously called, 'The kingdom of Christ and His Saints.'"

"In the same way, Dryden traced the origin of republicanism in England, as appears from his political poem called the Hind and the Panther; in which he characterizes the Romish church under the name of the Hind, the English church under that of the Panther, and the Presbyterian under that of the Wolf. In the following extract, the 'kennel' means the city of Geneva; the 'puddle' its lake, and the 'wall' its rampart.

"The last of all the litter scap'd by chance, And from Geneva first invested France. Some authors thus his pedigree will trace; But others write him of an upstart race, Because of Wickliffe's brood no mark he brings But his innate antipathy to kings.

* * * * *

What though your native kennel still be small, Bounded betwixt a puddle and a wall? Yet your victorious colonies are sent, Where the north ocean girds the continent. Quicken'd with fire below, your monster's breed, In fenny Holland, and in fruitful Tweed; And like the first, the last effects to be Drawn to the dregs of a democracy.

* * * * *

But as the poisons of the deadliest kind Are to their own unhappy coasts confined, So Presbyt'ry and pestilential zeal, Can only flourish in a COMMONWEAL."

The Life of the Rev. John Fox.

John Fox, was born at Boston, in Lincolnshire, in 1517, where his parents are stated to have lived in respectable circumstances. He was deprived of his father at an early age; and notwithstanding his mother soon married again, he still remained under the parental roof. From an early display of talents and inclination to learning, his friends were induced to send him to Oxford, in order to cultivate and bring them to maturity. During his residence at this place, he was distinguished for the excellence and acuteness of his intellect, which was improved by the emulation of his fellow-collegians, united to an indefatigable zeal and industry on his part. These qualities soon gained him the admiration of all; and as a reward for his exertions and amiable conduct, he was chosen fellow of Magdalen college; which was accounted a great honour in the university, and seldom bestowed unless in cases of great distinction. It appears that the first display of his genius was in poetry; and that he composed some Latin comedies, which are still extant. But he soon directed his thoughts to a more serious subject, the study of the sacred scriptures: to divinity, indeed, he applied himself with more fervency than circumspection, and discovered his partiality to the reformation, which had then commenced, before he was known to its supporters, or to those who protected them; a circumstance which proved to him the source of his first troubles.

He is said to have often affirmed, that the first matter which occasioned his search into the popish doctrine, was, that he saw divers things, most repugnant in their nature to one another, forced upon men at the same time; upon this foundation his resolution and intended obedience to that church were somewhat shaken, and by degrees a dislike to the rest took place.

His first care was to look into both the ancient and modern history of the church; to ascertain its beginning and progress; to consider the causes of all those controversies which in the meantime had sprung up, and diligently to weigh their effects, solidity, infirmities, &c.

Before he had attained his thirtieth year, he had studied the Greek and Latin fathers, and other learned authors, the transactions of the councils, and decrees of the consistories, and had acquired a very competent skill in the Hebrew language. In these occupations, he frequently spent a considerable part, or even the whole of the night, and in order to unbend his mind after such incessant study, he would resort to a grove near the college, a place much frequented by the students in the evening, on account of its sequestered gloominess. In these solitary walks, he has been heard to ejaculate heavy sobs and sighs, and with tears to pour forth his prayers to God. These nightly retirements, in the sequel, gave rise to the first suspicion of his alienation from the church of Rome. Being pressed for an explanation of this alteration in his conduct, he scorned to call in fiction to his excuse; he stated his opinions; and was, by the sentence of the college convicted, condemned as a heretic, and expelled.

His friends, upon the report of this circumstance, were highly offended, and especially his father-in-law, who was now grown altogether implacable, either through a real hatred conceived against him for this cause, or pretending himself aggrieved, that he might now, with more show of justice, or at least with more security, withhold from Mr. Fox his paternal estate; for he knew it could not be safe for one publicly hated, and in danger of the law, to seek a remedy for his injustice.

When he was thus forsaken by his own friends, a refuge offered itself in the house of Sir Thomas Lucy, of Warwickshire, by whom he was sent for to instruct his children. In this house he afterwards married. But the fear of the popish inquisitors hastened his departure thence; as they were not contented to pursue public offences, but began also to dive into the secrets of private families. He now began to consider what was best to be done to free himself from further inconvenience, and resolved either to go to his wife's father or to his father in-law.

His wife's father was a citizen of Coventry, whose heart was not alienated from him, and he was more likely to be well entreated, for his daughter's sake. He resolved first to go to him; and, in the meanwhile, by letters, to try whether his father-in-law would receive him or not. This he accordingly did, and he received for answer, "that it seemed to him a hard condition to take one into his house whom he knew to be guilty and condemned for a capital offence; neither was he ignorant what hazard he should undergo in so doing; he would, however, show himself a kinsman, and neglect his own danger." If he would alter his mind, he might come, on condition to stay as long as he himself desired; but if he could not be persuaded to that, he must content himself with a shorter stay, and not bring him and his mother into danger.

No condition was to be refused; besides, he was secretly advised by his mother to come, and not to fear his father-in-law's severity; "for that, perchance, it was needful to write as he did, but when occasion should be offered, he would make recompense for his words with his actions." In fact he was better received by both of them than he had hoped for.

By these means he kept himself concealed for some time, and afterwards made a journey to London, in the latter part of the reign of Henry, VIII. Here, being unknown, he was in much distress, and was even reduced to the danger of being starved to death, had not Providence interfered in his favour in the following manner:

One day as Mr. Fox was sitting in St. Paul's church, exhausted with long fasting, a stranger took a seat by his side, and courteously saluted him, thrust a sum of money into his hand, and bade him cheer up his spirits; at the same time informing him, that in a few days new prospects would present themselves for his future subsistence. Who this stranger was, he could never learn, but at the end of three days he received an invitation from the dutchess of Richmond to undertake the tuition of the children of the earl of Surry who, together with his father, the duke of Norfolk, was imprisoned in the Tower, by the jealousy and ingratitude of the king. The children thus confided to his care were, Thomas, who succeeded to the dukedom; Henry, afterwards earl of Northampton; and Jane who became countess to Westmoreland. In the performance of his duties, he fully satisfied the expectations of the dutchess, their aunt.

These halcyon days continued during the latter part of the reign of Henry VIII. and the five years of the reign of Edward VI. till Mary came to the crown, who, soon after her accession, gave all power into the hands of the papists.

At this time Mr. Fox, who was still under the protection of his noble pupil, the duke, began to excite the envy and hatred of many, particularly Dr. Gardiner, then bishop of Winchester, who in the sequel became his most violent enemy.

Mr. Fox, aware of this, and seeing the dreadful persecutions then commencing, began to think of quitting the kingdom. As soon as the duke knew his intention, he endeavoured to persuade him to remain; and his arguments were so powerful, and given with so much sincerity, that he gave up the thought of abandoning his asylum for the present.

At that time the bishop of Winchester was very intimate with the duke (by the patronage of whose family he had risen to the dignity he then enjoyed,) and frequently waited on him to present his service when he several times requested that he might see his old tutor. At first the duke denied his request, at one time alleging his absence, at another, indisposition. At length it happened that Mr. Fox, not knowing the bishop was in the house, entered the room where the duke and he were in discourse; and seeing the bishop, withdrew. Gardiner asked who that was; the duke answered, "his physician, who was somewhat uncourtly, as being new come from the university." "I like his countenance and aspect very well," replied the bishop "and when occasion offers, I will send for him." The duke understood that speech as the messenger of some approaching danger; and now himself thought it high time for Mr. Fox to quit the city, and even the country. He accordingly caused every thing necessary for his flight to be provided in silence, by sending one of his servants to Ipswich to hire a bark, and prepare all the requisites for his departure. He also fixed on the house of one of his servants, who was a farmer, where he might lodge till the wind became favourable; and every thing being in readiness, Mr. Fox took leave of his noble patron, and with his wife, who was pregnant at the time, secretly departed for the ship.

The vessel was scarcely under sail, when a most violent storm came on, which lasted all day and night, and the next day drove them back to the port from which they had departed. During the time that the vessel had been at sea, an officer, despatched by the bishop of Winchester, had broken open the house of the farmer with a warrant to apprehend Mr. Fox wherever he might be found, and bring him back to the city. On hearing this news he hired a horse, under the pretence of leaving the town immediately; but secretly returned the same night, and agreed with the captain of the vessel to sail for any place as soon as the wind should shift, only desiring him to proceed, and not to doubt that God would prosper his undertaking. The mariner suffered himself to be persuaded, and within two days landed his passengers in safety at Nieuport.

After spending a few days in that place, Mr. Fox set out for Basle, where he found a number of English refugees, who had quitted their country to avoid the cruelty of the persecutors, with these he associated, and began to write his "History of the Acts and Monuments of the Church," which was first published in Latin at Basle, and shortly after in English.

In the meantime the reformed religion began again to flourish in England, and the popish faction much to decline, by the death of Queen Mary; which induced the greater number of the protestant exiles to return to their native country.

Among others, on the accession of Elizabeth to the throne, Mr. Fox returned to England; where, on his arrival, he found a faithful and active friend in his late pupil, the duke of Norfolk, till death deprived him of his benefactor: after which event, Mr. Fox inherited a pension bequeathed to him by the duke, and ratified by his son, the earl of Suffolk.

Nor did the good man's successes stop here. On being recommended to the queen by her secretary of state, the great Cecil, her majesty granted him the prebendary of Shipton, in the cathedral of Salisbury, which was in a manner forced upon him; for it was with difficulty that he could be persuaded to accept it.

On his resettlement in England, he employed himself in revising and enlarging his admirable Martyrology. With prodigious pains and constant study he completed that celebrated work in eleven years. For the sake of greater correctness, he wrote every line of this vast book with his own hand, and transcribed all the records and papers himself. But, in consequence of such excessive toil, leaving no part of his time free from study, nor affording himself either the repose or recreation which nature required, his health was so reduced, and his person became so emaciated and altered, that such of his friends and relations as only conversed with him occasionally, could scarcely recognise his person. Yet, though he grew daily more exhausted, he proceeded in his studies as briskly as ever, nor would he be persuaded to diminish his accustomed labours. The papists, forseeing how detrimental his history of their errors and cruelties would prove to their cause, had recourse to every artifice to lessen the reputation of his work; but their malice was of signal service, both to Mr. Fox himself, and to the church of God at large, as it eventually made his book more intrinsically valuable, by inducing him to weigh, with the most scrupulous attention, the certainty of the facts which he recorded, and the validity of the authorities from which he drew his information.

But while he was thus indefatigably employed in promoting the cause of truth, he did not neglect the other duties of his station; he was charitable, humane, and attentive to the wants, both spiritual and temporal, of his neighbours. With the view of being more extensively useful, although he had no desire to cultivate the acquaintance of the rich and great on his own account, he did not decline the friendship of those in a higher rank who proffered it, and never failed to employ his influence with them in behalf of the poor and needy. In consequence of his well known probity and charity, he was frequently presented with sums of money by persons possessed of wealth, which he accepted and distributed among those who were distressed. He would also occasionally attend the table of his friends, not so much for the sake of pleasure, as from civility, and to convince them that his absence was not occasioned by a fear of being exposed to the temptations of the appetite. In short, his character as a man and as a christian, was without reproach.

Of the esteem in which he was held, the names of the following respectable friends and noble patrons, will afford ample proof. It has been already mentioned that the attachment of the duke of Norfolk was so great to his tutor, that he granted him a pension for life; he also enjoyed the patronage of the earls of Bedford and Warwick, and the intimate friendship of Sir Francis Walsingham, (secretary of state,) Sir Thomas, and Mr. Michael Hennage, of whom he was frequently heard to observe, that Sir Thomas had every requisite for a complete courtier, but that Mr. Michael possessed all the merits of his brother, besides his own, still untainted by the court. He was on very intimate and affectionate terms with Sir Drue Drury, Sir Francis Drake, Dr. Grindal, archbishop of Canterbury, Dr. Elmar, bishop of London, Dr. Pilkington, bishop of Durham, and Dr. Nowell, dean of St. Paul's. Others of his most intimate acquaintances and friends were, Doctors Umphrey, Whitaker, and Fulk, Mr. John Crowly, and Mr. Baldwin Collins. Among the eminent citizens, we find he was much venerated by Sir Thomas Gresham, Sir Thomas Roe, Alderman Bacchus, Mr. Smith, Mr. Dale, Mr. Sherrington, &c. &c. &c.

At length, having long served both the church and the world by his ministry, by his pen, and by the unsullied lustre of a benevolent useful, and holy life, he meekly resigned his soul to Christ, on the 18th of April, 1587, being then in the seventieth year of his age. He was interred in the chancel of St Giles', Cripplegate; of which parish he had been, in the beginning of Elizabeth's reign, for some time vicar.

The Lord had given him a foresight of his departure; and so fully was he assured that the time was just at hand when his soul should quit the body, that (probably to enjoy unmolested communion with God, and to have no worldly interruptions in his last hours) he purposely sent his two sons from home, though he loved them with great tenderness; and before they returned, his spirit, as he had foreseen would be the case, had flown to heaven.

His death occasioned great lamentations throughout the city, and his funeral was honoured with a great concourse of people, each of whom appeared to bewail the loss of a father or a brother.

In his able martyrology he has elaborately treated of the vices and absurdities of papal hierarchy, of which the following is a brief enumeration.

Errors, Rites, Ceremonies, and Superstitious Practices, of the Romish Church.

TRADITIONS.] The church of Rome having deprived the laity of the Bible, substitutes in its stead apostolic and ecclesiastical traditions; and obliges her disciples to admit for truth whatever she teaches them: but what do the holy scriptures say? "Why do ye transgress the commandment of God by your tradition?" Matt. xv. 3, 9, &c. They also command us "to call no man master (in spiritual concerns;) to try the spirit, and beware of false teachers."

PRAYERS AND DIVINE SERVICES IN LATIN.] The Roman Catholics will not interpret the scriptures otherwise than according to the sense of holy mother church, and the pretended unanimous consent of the fathers: they assert also, that the scriptures ought not to be read publicly, nor indifferently by all; and, that the common people may be enslaved by gross ignorance, they perform public worship in an unknown tongue, contrary to the rule laid down by the apostle, "That all things should be done to edification." St. Paul says, "If I pray in an unknown tongue, my spirit prayeth, but my understanding is unfruitful."

SEVEN SACRAMENTS.] Two only were instituted by Christ, to which the Romish church has added five more, making in all seven, necessary to salvation, namely, the eucharist, baptism, confirmation, penance, extreme unction, orders, and matrimony. To those two which Christ instituted, she has added a mixture of her own inventions; for in the sacrament of baptism, she uses, salt, oil, or spittle; and in the sacrament of the Lord's supper, the laity have only the bread administered to them; and even that not after the manner ordained by Christ, who broke the bread and gave it to his disciples; instead of which the church of Rome administers to her members not bread, but a wafer, and the priests only drink the wine, though our blessed Lord said, "Drink ye ALL of this." Matt. xxvi. 27.

THE MASS.] Roman catholics believe it to be a true, proper, and propitiatory sacrifice, and therefore call it the sacrament of the altar; whereas, the death of Christ was a full and complete sacrifice, "in which he hath, by one suffering, perfected for ever them that are sanctified. He himself is a priest for ever; who, being raised from the dead, died no more; and who, through the eternal Spirit, offered himself without spot to God." Paul's Epist. to the Hebrews, ch. ix. 10. It was on account of this gross absurdity, and the irreligious application of it, that our first reformers suffered, and so many were put to death in the reign of queen Mary.

TRANSUBSTANTIATION.] Roman catholics profess, that in the most holy sacrament of the Lord's supper, there is really and substantially the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity, of Christ, and that the whole substance of the bread is turned into his body, and the whole substance of the wine into his blood; which conversion, so contradictory to our senses, they call transubstantiation, but at the same time they affirm, that, under either kind or species, only one whole entire Christ, and the true sacrament, is received. But why are those words, "This is my body," to be taken in a literal sense, any more than those concerning the cup? Our Saviour says, "I am the true vine, I am the door." St. Paul says, "Our fathers drank of the rock that followed them, and that rock was Christ;" and writing to the Corinthians, he affirms, that, "he had fed them with milk." Can these passages be taken literally? Why then must we be forced to interpret our Saviour's words in a literal sense, when the apostle has explained the intention of the sacrament to be "to show forth the Lord's death till he come!"

PURGATORY.] This, they say, is a certain place, in which, as in a prison, after death, those souls, by the prayers of the faithful, are purged, which in this life could not be fully cleansed; no not by the blood of Christ: and notwithstanding it is asserted in the scriptures, "if we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness." 1 John i. 9. This place of purgatory is in the power of the pope, who dispenses the indulgences, and directs the treasury of his merits, by which the pains are mitigated, and the deliverance hastened. For the tormented sufferers, in this ideal inquisition, his monks and friars say masses, all of whom must be paid for their trouble; because, no penny, no pater-noster; by which bubble the church of Rome amasses great wealth.

IDOLATRY AND CREATURE-WORSHIP.] In all the Romish worship the blessed virgin is a principal object of adoration. She is styled the queen of Heaven, lady of the world, the only hope of sinners, queen of angels, patroness of men, advocate for sinners, mother of mercies, under which titles they desire her, by the power of a mother, to command her Son. In some prayers, they invoke God to bring them to heaven by the merits and mediation of the Virgin Mary and all her saints, and that they may enjoy perpetual soundness both of body and mind by her glorious intercession. Hence it might be imagined by a papist, that the sacred writings were full of encomiums on this pretended mother of God; whereas, on the contrary, we do not find Christ in any part of scripture called the Son of Mary, nor that he at any time calls her mother; and when the woman cried, "Blessed is the womb that bore thee, and the paps that thou hast sucked." "Yea, (returns our Lord) rather blessed are they that hear the word of God, and keep it." Nor does our Saviour own any relation but that of a disciple; for when his mother and brethren stood without, desiring to speak with him, Jesus answered, "Who are my mother and brethren?" And looking round upon his disciples, he saith, "Behold my mother and my brethren; for whosoever shalt do the will of my Father who is in heaven, the same is my brother, sister, and mother." Of the same nature are their prayers to other saints and angels, by which they derogate from the honour of our Christ, and transfer his offices to others; though the scriptures expressly assert, there is but one mediator between God and man. Nor must we omit under this head the idolatry of the mass, in the elevation of the host. Thus is the second commandment infringed, which the Romish church has endeavoured as much as possible to suppress, and in many of their little manuals it is altogether omitted.

PAPAL SOVEREIGNTY.] This is politically supported by a pretended infallibility; auricular confession, founded upon the priest's power to forgive sins; indulgences; pretended relics; penance; strings of beads for Ave-Marys and pater-nosters; celibacy; merits and works of supererogations; restrictions; monkish austerities; religious vows and orders; palms; candles; decorated images; holy water; christening of bells; hallowed flowers and branches; agnus dei; oblations; consecrations, &c., &c.

LUDICROUS FORMS AND CEREMONIES.] At the feast of Christmas, the Roman catholics have exhibited in their churches a cradle, with an image of an infant in it, which is rocked with great seeming devotion; and on Good-Friday they have the figure of our Saviour on the cross, and then they perform the service which they call the Tenebres; having abundance of lighted candles, all of which they extinguish one by one, after which the body is taken down from the cross and put into a sepulchre, and men stand to watch it.

CRUEL MAXIMS.] Papists hold that heretics may not be termed children and kindred; that no faith is to be kept with heretics; and that it is lawful to torture or kill them for the good of their souls.

Chapter XXIII: Sketch Of The French Revolution Of 1789, As Connected With The History Of Persecutions

CHAPTER XXIII.

SKETCH OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION OF 1789, AS CONNECTED WITH THE HISTORY OF PERSECUTION.

The design of those who were the primary agents in originating the causes of the French Revolution, was the utter subversion of the christian religion. Voltaire, the leader in this crusade against religion, boasted that "with one hand he would pull down, what took twelve Apostles to build up." The motto on the seal of his letters was, "Crush the wretch," having reference to Jesus Christ, and the system of religion, which he promulgated. To effect his object he wrote and published a great variety of infidel tracts, containing the most licentious sentiments and the most blasphemous attacks upon the religion of the Bible. Innumerable copies of these tracts were printed, and gratuitously circulated in France and other countries. As they were adapted to the capacity of all classes of persons, they were eagerly sought after, and read with avidity. The doctrines inculcated in them were subversive of every principle of morality and religion. The everlasting distinctions between virtue and vice, were completely broken down. Marriage was ridiculed--obedience to parents treated as the most abject slavery--subordination to civil government, the most odious despotism--and the acknowledgement of a God, the height of folly and absurdity. Deeply tinged with such sentiments, the revolution of 1789, found the popular mind in France prepared for all the atrocities which followed. The public conscience had become so perverted, that scenes of treachery, cruelty and blood were regarded with indifference, and sometimes excited the most unbounded applause in the spectators. Such a change had been effected in the French character, by the propagation of Infidel and Atheistical opinions, "that from being one of the most light hearted and kind tempered of nations," says Scott, "the French seemed upon the revolution to have been animated, not merely with the courage, but with the rabid fury of wild beasts." When the Bastile was stormed "Fouton and Berthier, two individuals whom they considered as enemies of the people, were put to death, with circumstances of cruelty and insult fitting only at the death stake of an Indian encampment; and in imitation of literal cannibals, there were men, or rather monsters found, not only to tear asunder, the limbs of their victims, but to eat their hearts, and drink their blood."

Croly, in his new interpretation of the Apocalypse, holds the following language.

The primary cause of the French revolution was the exile of Protestantism.

Its decency of manners had largely restrained the licentious tendencies of the higher orders; its learning had compelled the Romish Ecclesiastics to similar labours; and while christianity could appeal to such a church in France, the progress of the infidel writers was checked by the living evidence of the purity, peacefulness and wisdom of the Gospel. It is not even without sanction of scripture and history to conceive that, the presence of such a body of the servants of God was a divine protection to their country.

But the fall of the church was followed by the most palpable, immediate, and ominous change. The great names of the Romish priesthood, the vigorous literature of Bossnett, the majestic oratory of Massillon, the pathetic and classic elegance of Fenelon, the mildest of all enthusiasts; a race of men who towered above the genius of their country and of their religion; passed away without a successor. In the beginning of the 18th century, the most profligate man in France was an ecclesiastic, the Cardinal Dubois, prime minister to the most profligate prince in Europe, the Regent Orleans. The country was convulsed with bitter personal disputes between Jesuit and Jansenist, fighting even to mutual persecution upon points either beyond or beneath the human intellect. A third party stood by, unseen, occasionally stimulating each, but equally despising both, a potential fiend, sneering at the blind zealotry and miserable rage that were doing its unsuspected will. Rome, that boasts of her freedom from schism should blot the 18th century from her page.

The French mind, subtle, satirical, and delighting to turn even matters of seriousness into ridicule, was immeasurably captivated by the true burlesque of those disputes, the childish virulence, the extravagant pretensions, and the still more extravagant impostures fabricated in support of the rival pre-eminence in absurdity; the visions of half-mad nuns and friars; the Convulsionaries; the miracles at the tomb of the Abbe Paris, trespasses on the common sense of man, scarcely conceivable by us if they had not been renewed under our eyes by popery. All France was in a burst of laughter.

In the midst of this tempest of scorn an extraordinary man arose, to guide and deepen it into public ruin, VOLTAIRE; a personal profligate; possessing a vast variety of that superficial knowledge which gives importance to folly; frantic for popularity, which he solicited at all hazards; and sufficiently opulent to relieve him from the necessity of any labours but those of national undoing. Holding but an inferior and struggling rank in all the manlier provinces of the mind, in science, poetry, and philosophy; he was the prince of scorners. The splenetic pleasantry which stimulates the wearied tastes of high life; the grossness which half concealed captivates the loose, without offence to their feeble decorum; and the easy brilliancy which throws what colours it will on the darker features of its purpose; made Voltaire, the very genius of France. But under this smooth and sparkling surface, reflecting like ice all the lights flung upon it, there was a dark fathomless depth of malignity. He hated government; he hated morals; he hated man, he hated religion. He sometimes bursts out into exclamations of rage and insane fury against all that we honour as best and holiest, that sound less the voice of human lips than the echoes of the final place of agony and despair.

A tribe worthy of his succession, showy, ambitious, and malignant, followed; each with some vivid literary contribution, some powerful and popular work, a new despotic of combustion in that mighty mine on which stood in thin and fatal security the throne of France. Rousseau, the most impassioned of all romancers, the great corrupter of the female mind. Buffon, a lofty and splendid speculator, who dazzled the whole multitude of the minor philosophers, and fixed the creed of Materialism. Moutesquieu, eminent for knowledge and sagacity in his "Spirit of Laws" striking all the establishments of his country into contempt; and in his "Persian Letters," levelling the same blow at her morals. D'Alembert, the first mathematician of his day, an eloquent writer, the declared pupil of Voltaire, and, by his secretary-ship of the French academy, furnished with all the facilities for propagating his master's opinions. And Diderot, the projector and chief conductor of the Encyclopedia, a work justly exciting the admiration of Europe, by the novelty and magnificence of its design, and by the comprehensive and solid extent of its knowledge; but in its principles utterly evil, a condensation of all the treasons of the school of anarchy, the lex scripta of the Revolution.

All those men were open infidels; and their attacks on religion, such as they saw it before them, roused the Gallican church. But the warfare was totally unequal. The priesthood came armed with the antiquated and unwieldy weapons of old controversy, forgotten traditions and exhausted legends. They could have conquered them only by the bible; they fought them only with the breviary. The histories of the saints, and the wonders of images were but fresh food for the most overwhelming scorn. The bible itself, which popery has always laboured to close, was brought into the contest, and used resistlessly against the priesthood. They were contemptuously asked, in what part of the sacred volume had they found the worship of the Virgin, of the Saints, or of the Host? where was the privilege that conferred Saintship at the hands of the pope? where was the prohibition of the general use of scripture by every man who had a soul to be saved? where was the revelation of that purgatory, from which a monk and a mass could extract a sinner? where was the command to imprison, torture, and slay men for their difference of opinion with an Italian priest and the college of cardinals? To those formidable questions the clerics answered by fragments from the fathers, angry harangues, and more legends of more miracles. They tried to enlist the nobles and the court in a crusade. But the nobles were already among the most zealous, though secret, converts to the Encyclopedia; and the gentle spirit of the monarch was not to be urged into a civil war. The threat of force only inflamed contempt into vengeance. The populace of Paris, like all mobs, licentious, restless, and fickle; but beyond all, taking an interest in public matters, had not been neglected by the deep designers who saw in the quarrel of the pen the growing quarrel of the sword. The Fronde was not yet out of their minds; the barrier days of Paris; the municipal council which in 1648, had levied war against the government; the mob-army which had fought, and terrified that government into forgiveness; were the strong memorials on which the anarchists of 1793 founded their seduction. The perpetual ridicule of the national belief was kept alive among them. The populace of the provinces, whose religion was in their rosary, were prepared for rebellion by similar means and the terrible and fated visitation of France began.

After passing through many scenes from the recital of which the mind turns away with loathing and disgust, the reign of terror commenced. Previous to this, however, there had been dreadful riots, and disorders in Paris. The Swiss Guards had been cut to pieces, and the king and royal family imprisoned. The priests had nearly all perished or been banished from France. The national assembly was divided into desperate factions, which often turned their arms against one another. When one party triumphed, proscription followed, and the guillotine was put in requisition, and blood flowed in torrents. The grossest irreligion likewise prevailed. Leaders of the atheistical mob would extend their arms to heaven and dare a God, if he existed, to vindicate his insulted majesty, and crush them with his thunderbolts. Over the entrance of their grave yards was placed this inscription, "DEATH AN ETERNAL SLEEP." Men who dared to think differently from the dominant faction, were immediately executed, in mockery, often, of all the forms of justice. The most ferocious of the bloody factions, were the jacobins, so called from their place of meeting. The leaders of this party were Danton, Robespierre, and Marat. They are thus described by Scott in his life of Napoleon.

Three men of terror, whose names will long remain, we trust, unmatched in history by those of any similar miscreants, had now the unrivalled leading of the jacobins, and were called the Triumvirate.

Danton deserves to be named first, as unrivalled by his colleagues in talent and audacity. He was a man of gigantic size, and possessed a voice of thunder. His countenance was that of an Ogre on the shoulders of a Hercules. He was as fond of the pleasures of vice as of the practice of cruelty; and it was said there were times when he became humanized amidst his debauchery, laughed at the terror which his furious declamation excited, and might be approached with safety like the Maelstrom at the turn of tide. His profusion was indulged to an extent hazardous to his popularity, for the populace are jealous of a lavish expenditure, as raising their favourites too much above their own degree; and the charge of peculation finds always ready credit with them, when brought against public men.

Robespierre possessed this advantage over Danton, that he did not seem to seek for wealth, either for hoarding or expending, but lived in strict and economical retirement, to justify the name of the Incorruptible, with which he was honoured by his partisans. He appears to have possessed little talent, saving a deep fund of hypocrisy, considerable powers of sophistry, and a cold exaggerated strain of oratory, as foreign to good taste, as the measures he recommended were to ordinary humanity. It seemed wonderful, that even the seething and boiling of the revolutionary cauldron should have sent up from the bottom, and long supported on the surface, a thing so miserably void of claims to public distinction; but Robespierre had to impose on the minds of the vulgar, and he knew how to beguile them, by accommodating his flattery to their passions and scale of understanding, and by acts of cunning and hypocrisy, which weigh more with the multitude than the words of eloquence, or the arguments of wisdom. The people listened as to their Cicero, when he twanged out his apostrophes of Pauvre Peuple, Peuple verteueux! and hastened to execute whatever came recommended by such honied phrases, though devised by the worst of men for the worst and most inhuman of purposes.

Vanity was Robespierre's ruling passion, and though his countenance was the image of his mind, he was vain even of his personal appearance, and never adopted the external habits of a sans culotte. Amongst his fellow jacobins he was distinguished by the nicety with which his hair was arranged and powdered; and the neatness of his dress was carefully attended to, so as to counterbalance, if possible, the vulgarity of his person. His apartments, though small, were elegant, and vanity had filled them with representations of the occupant. Robespierre's picture at length hung in one place, his miniature in another, his bust occupied a niche, and on the table were disposed a few medallions exhibiting his head in profile. The vanity which all this indicated was of the coldest and most selfish character, being such as considers neglect as insult, and receives homage merely as a tribute; so that, while praise is received without gratitude, it is withheld at the risk of mortal hate. Self-love of this dangerous character is closely allied with envy, and Robespierre was one of the most envious and vindictive men that ever lived. He never was known to pardon any opposition, affront, or even rivalry; and to be marked in his tablets on such an account was a sure, though perhaps not an immediate sentence of death. Danton was a hero, compared with this cold, calculating, creeping miscreant; for his passions, though exaggerated, had at least some touch of humanity, and his brutal ferocity was supported by brutal courage. Robespierre was a coward, who signed death-warrants with a hand that shook, though his heart was relentless. He possessed no passions on which to charge his crimes; they were perpetrated in cold blood, and upon mature deliberation.

Marat, the third of this infernal triumvirate, had attracted the attention of the lower orders, by the violence of his sentiments in the journal which he conducted from the commencement of the revolution, upon such principles that it took the lead in forwarding its successive changes. His political exhortations began and ended like the howl of a blood-hound for murder; or, if a wolf could have written a journal, the gaunt and famished wretch could not have ravined more eagerly for slaughter. It was blood which was Marat's constant demand, not in drops from the breast of an individual, not in puny streams from the slaughter of families, but blood in the profusion of an ocean. His usual calculation of the heads which he demanded amounted to two hundred and sixty thousand; and though he sometimes raised it as high as three hundred thousand, it never fell beneath the smaller number. It may be hoped, and, for the honour of human nature, we are inclined to believe, there was a touch of insanity in this unnatural strain of ferocity; and the wild and squalid features of the wretch appear to have intimated a degree of alienation of mind. Marat was, like Robespierre, a coward. Repeatedly denounced in the Assembly, he skulked instead of defending himself, and lay concealed in some obscure garret or cellar, among his cut-throats, until a storm appeared, when, like a bird of ill omen, his death-screech was again heard. Such was the strange and fatal triumvirate, in which the same degree of cannibal cruelty existed under different aspects. Danton murdered to glut his rage; Robespierre to avenge his injured vanity, or to remove a rival whom he envied! Marat, from the same instinctive love of blood, which induces a wolf to continue his ravage of the flocks long after his hunger is appeased.

These monsters ruled France for a time with the most despotic sway. The most sanguinary laws were enacted--and the most vigilant system of police maintained. Spies and informers were employed--and every murmur, and every expression unfavourable to the ruling powers was followed with the sentence of death and its immediate execution.

"Men," says Scott, "read Livy for the sake of discovering what degree of private crime might be committed under the mask of public virtue. The deed of the younger Brutus, served any man as an apology to betray to ruin and to death, a friend or a patron, whose patriotism might not be of the pitch which suited the time. Under the example of the elder Brutus, the nearest ties of blood were repeatedly made to give way before the ferocity of party zeal--a zeal too often assumed for the most infamous and selfish purposes. As some fanatics of yore studied the old testament for the purpose of finding examples of bad actions to vindicate those which themselves were tempted to commit, so the republicans of France, we mean the desperate and outrageous bigots of the revolution, read history to justify, by classical instances, their public and private crimes. Informers, those scourges of a state, were encouraged to a degree scarce known in ancient Rome in the time of the emperors, though Tacitus has hurled his thunders against them, as the poison and pest of his time. The duty of lodging such informations was unblushingly urged as indispensable. The safety of the republic being the supreme charge of every citizen, he was on no account to hesitate in denouncing, as it was termed, any one whomsoever, or howsoever connected with him,--the friend of his counsels, or the wife of his bosom,--providing he had reason to suspect the devoted individual of the crime of incivism,--a crime the more mysteriously dreadful, as no one knew exactly its nature."

In this place we shall give an account of some of the scenes to which France was subject during this awful period. In order to render the triumph complete, the leaders of the Jacobins determined upon a general massacre of all the friends of the unfortunate Louis and the constitution in the kingdom. For this purpose, suspected persons of all ranks were collected in the prisons and jails, and on the 2d of September, 1792, the work of death commenced.

Massacre of Prisoners.

The number of individuals accumulated in the various prisons of Paris had increased by the arrests and domiciliary visits subsequent to the 10th of August, to about eight thousand persons. It was the object of this infernal scheme to destroy the greater part of these under one general system of murder, not to be executed by the sudden and furious impulse of an armed multitude, but with a certain degree of cold blood and deliberate investigation. A force of armed banditti, Marsellois partly, and partly chosen ruffians of the Fauxbourgs, proceeded to the several prisons, into which they either forced their passage, or were admitted by the jailers, most of whom had been apprised of what was to take place, though some even of these steeled officials exerted themselves to save those under their charge. A revolutionary tribunal was formed from among the armed ruffians themselves, who examined the registers of the prison, and summoned the captives individually to undergo the form of a trial. If the judges, as was almost always the case, declared for death, their doom, to prevent the efforts of men in despair, was expressed in the words "Give the prisoner freedom." The victim was then thrust out into the street, or yard; he was despatched by men and women, who, with sleeves tucked up, arms dyed elbow-deep in blood, hands holding axes, pikes, and sabres, were executioners of the sentence; and, by the manner in which they did their office on the living, and mangled the bodies of the dead, showed that they occupied the post as much from pleasure as from love of hire. They often exchanged places; the judges going out to take the executioners' duty, the executioners, with reeking hands, sitting as judges in their turn. Mailard, a ruffian alleged to have distinguished himself at the siege of the Bastile, but better known by his exploits on the march to Versailles, presided during these brief and sanguinary investigations. His companions on the bench were persons of the same stamp. Yet there were occasions when they showed some transient gleams of humanity, and it is not unimportant to remark, that boldness had more influence on them than any appeal to mercy or compassion. An avowed royalist was occasionally dismissed uninjured, while the constitutionalists were sure to be massacred. Another trait of a singular nature is, that two of the ruffians who were appointed to guard one of these intended victims home in safety, as if they were acquitted, insisted on seeing his meeting with his family, seemed to share in the transports of the moment, and on taking leave, shook the hand of their late prisoner, while their own were clotted with the gore of his friends, and had been just raised to shed his own. Few, indeed, and brief, were these symptoms of relenting. In general, the doom of the prisoner was death, and that doom was instantly accomplished.

In the meanwhile, the captives were penned up in their dungeons like cattle in a shambles, and in many instances might, from windows which looked outwards, mark the fate of their comrades, hear their cries, and behold their struggles, and learn from the horrible scene, how they might best meet their own approaching fate. They observed, according to St. Meard, who, in his well-named Agony of Thirty-Six Hours, has given the account of this fearful scene, that those who intercepted the blows of the executioners, by holding up their hands, suffered protracted torment, while those who offered no show of struggle were more easily despatched; and they encouraged each other to submit to their fate, in the manner least likely to prolong their sufferings.

Many ladies, especially those belonging to the court, were thus murdered. The Princess de Lamballe, whose only crime seems to have been her friendship for Marie Antoinette, was literally hewn to pieces, and her head, and that of others, paraded on pikes through the metropolis. It was carried to the temple on that accursed weapon, the features yet beautiful in death, and the long fair curls of the hair floating around the spear. The murderers insisted that the King and Queen should be compelled to come to the window to view this dreadful trophy. The municipal officers who were upon duty over the royal prisoners, had difficulty, not merely in saving them from this horrible inhumanity, but also in preventing their prison from being forced. Three-coloured ribbons were extended across the street, and this frail barrier was found sufficient to intimate that the Temple was under the safeguard of the nation. We do not read that the efficiency of the three-coloured ribbons was tried for the protection of any of the other prisoners. No doubt the executioners had their instructions where and when they should be respected.

The clergy, who had declined the constitutional oath from pious scruples, were, during the massacre, the peculiar objects of insult and cruelty, and their conduct was such as corresponded with their religious and conscientious professions. They were seen confessing themselves to each other, or receiving the confessions of their lay companions in misfortune, and encouraging them to undergo the evil hour, with as much calmness as if they had not been to share its bitterness. As protestants, we cannot abstractedly approve of the doctrines which render the established clergy of one country dependant upon the sovereign pontiff, the prince of an alien state. But these priests did not make the laws for which they suffered; they only obeyed them; and as men and christians we must regard them as martyrs, who preferred death to what they considered as apostacy.

In the brief intervals of this dreadful butchery, which lasted four days, the judges and executioners ate, drank, and slept: and awoke from slumber, or arose from their meal, with fresh appetite for murder. There were places arranged for the male, and for the female murderers, for the work had been incomplete without the intervention of the latter. Prison after prison was invested, entered, and under the same form of proceeding made the scene of the same inhuman butchery. The Jacobins had reckoned on making the massacre universal over France. But the example was not generally followed. It required, as in the case of St. Bartholomew, the only massacre which can be compared to this in atrocity, the excitation of a large capital, in a violent crisis, to render such horrors possible.

The community of Paris were not in fault for this. They did all they could to extend the sphere of murder. Their warrant brought from Orleans near sixty persons, including the Duke de Cosse-Brissac, De Lesart the late minister, and other royalists of distinction, who were to have been tried before the high court of that department. A band of assassins met them, by appointment of the community, at Versailles, who, uniting with their escort, murdered almost the whole of the unhappy men.

From the 2d to the 6th of September, these infernal crimes proceeded uninterrupted, protracted by the actors for the sake of the daily pay of a louis to each, openly distributed amongst them, by order of the Commune. It was either from a desire to continue as long as possible a labour so well requited, or because these beings had acquired an insatiable lust of murder, that, when the jails were emptied of state criminals, the assassins attacked the Bicetre, a prison where ordinary delinquents were confined. These unhappy wretches offered a degree of resistance which cost the assailants more dear than any they had experienced from their proper victims. They were obliged to fire on them with cannon, and many hundreds of the miserable creatures were in thus way exterminated, by wretches worse than themselves.

No exact account was ever made of the number of persons murdered during this dreadful period; but not above two or three hundred of the prisoners arrested for state offences were known to escape, or be discharged, and the most moderate computation raises the number of those who fell to two or three thousand, though some carry it to twice the extent. Truchod announced to the Legislative Assembly, that four thousand had perished. Some exertion was made to save the lives of those imprisoned for debt, whose numbers, with those of common felons, may make up the balance betwixt the number slain and eight thousand who were prisoners when the massacre began. The bodies were interred in heaps, in immense trenches, prepared beforehand by order of the community of Paris; but their bones have since been transferred to the subterranean catacombs, which form the general charnel-house of the city. In those melancholy regions, while other relics of mortality lie exposed all around, the remains of those who perished in the massacres of September, are alone secluded from the eye. The vault in which they repose is closed with a screen of freestone, as if relating to crimes unfit to be thought of even in the proper abode of death; and which France would willingly hide in oblivion.

After this dreadful massacre, the Jacobins eagerly demanded the life of Louis XVI. He was accordingly tried by the convention and condemned to be beheaded.

Death of Louis XVI. and other Members of the Royal Family.

On the 21st of January, 1793, Louis XVI. was publicly beheaded in the midst of his own metropolis, in the Place Louis Quinze, erected to the memory of his grandfather. It is possible, for the critical eye of the historian, to discover much weakness in the conduct of this unhappy monarch; for he had neither the determination to fight for his rights, nor the power of submitting with apparent indifference to circumstances where resistance inferred danger. He submitted, indeed, but with so bad a grace, that he only made himself suspected of cowardice, without getting credit for voluntary concession. But yet his behaviour on many trying occasions effectually vindicate him from the charge of timidity, and showed that the unwillingness to shed blood, by which he was peculiarly distinguished, arose from benevolence, not from pusillanimity.

Upon the scaffold, he behaved with the firmness which became a noble spirit, and the patience beseeming one who was reconciled to heaven. As one of the few marks of sympathy with which his sufferings were softened, the attendance of a confessor, who had not taken the constitutional oath, was permitted to the dethroned monarch. He who undertook the honourable but dangerous office, was a gentleman of gifted family of Edgeworth of Edgeworthstown; and the devoted zeal with which he rendered the last duties to Louis, had like in the issue to have proved fatal to himself. As the instrument of death descended, the confessor pronounced the impressive words,--"Son of Saint Louis, ascend to heaven!"

There was a last will of Louis XVI. circulated upon good authority, bearing this remarkable passage:--"I recommend to my son, should you have the misfortune to become king, to recollect that his whole faculties are due to the service of the public; that he ought to consult the happiness of his people, by governing according to the laws, forgetting all injuries and misfortunes, and in particular those which I may have sustained. But while I exhort him to govern under the authority of the laws, I cannot but add, that this will be only in his power, in so far as he shall be endowed with authority to cause right to be respected, and wrong punished; and that without such authority, his situation in the government must be more hurtful than advantageous to the state."

Not to mingle the fate of the illustrious victim of the royal family with the general tale of the sufferers under the reign of terror, we must here mention the deaths of the rest of that illustrious house, which closed for a time a monarchy, that existing through three dynasties, had given sixty-six kings to France.

It was not to be supposed, that the queen was to be long permitted to survive her husband. She had been even more than he the object of revolutionary detestation; nay, many were disposed to throw on Marie Antoinette, almost exclusively, the blame of those measures which they considered as counter-revolutionary.

The terms of her accusation were too basely depraved to be even hinted at here. She scorned to reply to it, but appealed to all who had been mothers, against the very possibility of the horrors which were stated against her. The widow of a king, the sister of an emperor, was condemned to death, dragged in an open tumbril to the place of execution, and beheaded on the 16th October, 1793. She suffered death in her 39th year.

The princess Elizabeth, sister of Louis, of whom it might he said, in the words of lord Clarendon, that she resembled a chapel in a king's palace, into which nothing but piety and morality enter, while all around is filled with sin, idleness, and folly, did not, by the most harmless demeanour and inoffensive character, escape the miserable fate in which the Jacobins had determined to involve the whole family of Louis XVI. Part of the accusation redounded to the honour of her character. She was accused of having admitted to the apartments of the Tuilleries some of the national guards, of the section of Filles de Saint Thomas, and causing the wounds to be looked to which they had received in a skirmish with the Marsellois, immediately before the 10th of August. The princess admitted her having done so, and it was exactly in consistence with her whole conduct. Another charge stated the ridiculous accusation, that she had distributed bullets chewed by herself and her attendants, to render then more fatal, to the defenders of the castle of the Tuilleries; a ridiculous fable, of which there was no proof whatever. She was beheaded in May, 1794, and met her death as became the manner in which her life had been spent.

We are weary of recounting these atrocities, as others must be of reading them. Yet it is not useless that men should see how far human nature can be carried, in contradiction to every feeling the most sacred, to every pleading, whether of justice or of humanity. The Dauphin we have already described as a promising child of seven years old, an age at which no offence could have been given, and from which no danger could have been apprehended. Nevertheless, it was resolved to destroy the innocent child, and by means to which ordinary murders seem deeds of mercy.

The unhappy boy was put in charge of the most hard-hearted villain whom the community of Paris, well acquainted where such agents were to be found, were able to select from their band of Jacobins. This wretch, a shoemaker called Simon, asked his employers, "what was to be done with the young wolf-whelp; Was he to be slain?"--"No?"--"Poisoned?"--"No."--"Starved to death?"--"No." "What then?"--"He was to be got rid of." Accordingly, by a continuance of the most severe treatment--by beating, cold, vigils, fasts, and ill usage of every kind, so frail a blossom was soon blighted. He died on the 8th June, 1795.

After this last horrible crime, there was a relaxation in favour of the daughter, and now the sole child of this unhappy house. The princess royal, whose qualities have honoured even her birth and blood, experienced from this period a mitigated captivity. Finally, on the 19th December, 1795, this last remaining relic of the family of Louis, was permitted to leave her prison and her country, in exchange for La Fayette and others, whom, on that condition, Austria delivered from captivity. She became afterwards the wife of her cousin, the duke d'Angouleme, eldest son of the reigning monarch of France, and obtained, by the manner in which she conducted herself at Bourdeaux in 1815, the highest praise for gallantry and spirit.

Dreadful scenes in La Vendee.

In La Vendee, one of the departments of France, an insurrection broke out against the Jacobinical government, in 1793.

Upwards of two hundred battles and skirmishes were fought in this devoted country. The revolutionary fever was in its access; the shedding of blood seemed to have become positive pleasure to the perpetrators of slaughter, and was varied by each invention which cruelty could invent to give it new zest. The habitations of the Vendeans were destroyed, their families subjected to violation and massacre, their cattle houghed and slaughtered, and their crops burnt and wasted. One republican column assumed and merited the name of the Infernal, by the horrid atrocities which they committed. At Pilau, they roasted the women and children in a heated oven. Many similar horrors could be added, did not the heart and hand recoil from the task. Without quoting any more special instances of horror, we use the words of a republican eye witness, to express the general spectacle presented by the theatre of public conflict.

"I did not see a single male being at the towns of St. Hermand, Chantonnay, or Herbiers. A few women alone had escaped the sword. Country-seats, cottages, habitations of whichever kind, were burnt. The herds and flocks were wandering in terror around their usual places of shelter, now smoking in ruins. I was surprised by night, but the wavering and dismal blaze of conflagration afforded light over the country. To the bleating of the terrified flocks, and bellowing of the terrified cattle, was joined the deep hoarse notes of carrion crows, and the yells of wild animals coming from the recesses of the woods to prey upon the carcasses of the slain. At length a distant colume of fire, widening and increasing as I approached, served me as a beacon. It was the town of Mortagne in flames. When I arrived there, no living creatures were to be seen, save a few wretched women who were striving to save some remnants of their property from the general conflagration."--Les Memoires d'un Ancien Administrateur des Armees Republicaines.

Scenes at Marseilles and Lyons.

Marseilles, Toulon, and Lyons, had declared themselves against the Jacobin supremacy. Rich from commerce and their maratime situation, and, in the case of Lyons, from their command of internal navigation, the wealthy merchants and manufacturers of those cities foresaw the total insecurity of property, and in consequence of their own ruin, in the system of arbitrary spoliation and murder upon which the government of the Jacobins was founded. But property, for which they were solicitous, though, if its natural force is used in time, the most powerful barrier to withstand revolution, becomes, after a certain period of delay, its helpless victim. If the rich are in due season liberal of their means, they have the power of enlisting in their cause, and as adherents, those among the lower orders, who, if they see their superiors dejected and despairing, will be tempted to consider them as objects of plunder. But this must be done early, or those who might be made the most active defenders of property, will join with such as are prepared to make a prey of it.

Marseilles showed at once her good will and her impotency of means. The utmost exertions of that wealthy city, whose revolutionary band had contributed so much to the downfall of the monarchy in the attack on the Tuilleries, were able to equip only a small and doubtful army of about 3000 men, who were despatched to the relief of Lyons. This inconsiderable army threw themselves into Avignon, and were defeated with the utmost ease, by the republican general Cartaux, despicable as a military officer, and whose forces would not have stood a single engaillement of Vendean sharp-shooters. Marseilles received the victors, and bowed her head to the subsequent horrors which it pleased Cartaux, with two formidable Jacobins, Barras and Ferron, to inflict on that flourishing city. The place underwent the usual terrors of Jacobin purifaction, and was for a time affectedly called "nameless commune."

Lyons made a more honourable stand. That noble city had been subjected for some time to the domination of Chalier, one of the most ferocious, and at the same time one of the most extravagantly absurd, of the Jacobins. He was at the head of a formidable club, which was worthy of being affiliated with the mother society, and ambitious of treading in its footsteps; and he was supported by a garrison of two revolutionary regiments, besides a numerous artillery, and a large addition of volunteers, amounting in all to about ten thousand men, forming what was called a revolutionary army. This Chalier, was an apostate priest, an atheist, and a thorough-paced pupil in the school of terror. He had been procureur of the community, and had imposed on the wealthy citizens a tax, which was raised from six to thirty millions of livres. But blood as well as gold was his object. The massacre of a few priests and aristocrats confined in the fortress of Pierre-Scixe, was a pitiful sacrifice; and Chalier, ambitious of deeds more decisive, caused a general arrest of an hundred principal citizens, whom he destined as a hecatomb more worthy of the demon whom he served.

This sacrifice was prevented by the courage of the Lyonnois; a courage which, if assumed by the Parisians, might have prevented most of the horrors which disgraced the revolution. The meditated slaughter was already announced by Chalier to the Jacobin club. "Three hundred heads," he said, "are marked for slaughter. Let us lose no time in seizing the members of the departmental office-bearers, the presidents and secretaries of the sections, all the local authorities who obstruct our revolutionary measures. Let us make one fagot of the whole, and deliver them at once to the guillotine."

But ere he could execute his threat, terror was awakened into the courage of despair. The citizens rose in arms and besieged the Hotel de Ville, in which Chalier, with his revolutionary troops, made a desperate, and for some time a successful, yet ultimately a vain defence. But the Lyonnois unhappily knew not how to avail themselves of their triumph. They were not sufficiently aware of the nature of the vengeance which they had provoked, or of the necessity of supporting the bold step which they had taken, by measures which precluded a compromise. Their resistance to the violence and atrocity of the Jacobins had no political character, any more than that offered by the traveller against robbers who threaten him with plunder and murder. They were not sufficiently aware, that, having done so much, they must necessarily do more. They ought, by declaring themselves royalists, to have endeavoured to prevail on the troops of Savoy, if not on the Swiss, (who had embraced a species of neutrality, which, after the 10th of August, was dishonourable to their ancient reputation,) to send in all haste, soldiery to the assistance of a city which had no fortifications or regular troops to defend it; but which possessed, nevertheless, treasures to pay their auxiliaries, and strong hands and able officers to avail themselves of the localities of their situation, which, when well defended, are sometimes as formidable as the regular protection erected by scientific engineers.

The people of Lyons vainly endeavoured to establish a revolutionary character for themselves upon the system of Gironde; two of whose proscribed deputies tried to draw them over to their unpopular and hopeless cause: and they inconsistently sought protection by affecting a republican zeal, even while resisting the decrees, and defeating the troops of the Jacobins. There were undoubtedly many of royalist principles among the insurgents, and some of their leaders were decidedly such; but these were not numerous or influential enough to establish the true principle of open resistance, and the ultimate chance of rescue, by a bold proclamation of the king's interest. They still appealed to the convention as their legitimate sovereign, in whose eyes they endeavoured to vindicate themselves, and at the same time tried to secure the interest of two Jacobin deputies, who had countenanced every violation attempted by Chalier, that they might prevail upon them to represent their conduct favourably. Of course they had enough of promises to this effect, while Messrs. Guathier and Nioche, the deputies in question, remained in their power; promises, doubtless the more readily given, that the Lyonnois, though desirous to conciliate the favour of the convention, did not hesitate in proceeding to the punishment of the Jacobin Chalier. He was condemned and executed, along with one of his principal associates, termed Reard.

To defend these vigourous proceedings, the unhappy insurgents placed themselves under the interim government of a council, who, still desirous to temporize and maintain the revolutionary character, termed themselves "the popular and republican commission of public safety of the department of the Rhine and Loire;" a title which, while it excited no popular enthusiasm, and attracted no foreign aid, no ways soothed, but rather exasperated, the resentment of the convention, now under the absolute domination of the Jacobins, by whom every thing short of complete fraternization was accounted presumptuous defiance. Those who were not with them, it was their policy to hold as their most decided enemies.

The Lyonnois had indeed letters of encouragement, and promised concurrence, from several departments; but no effectual support was ever directed to their city, excepting the petty reinforcement from Marseilles, which we have seen was intercepted and dispersed with little trouble by the Jacobin general, Cartaux.

Lyons had expected to become the patroness and focus of an Anti-Jacobin league, formed by the great commercial towns, against Paris and the predominant part of the convention. She found herself isolated and unsupported, and left to oppose her own proper forces and means of defence, to an army of sixty thousand men, and to the numerous Jacobins contained within her own walls. About the end of July, after a lapse of an interval of two months, a regular blockade was formed around the city, and in the first week of August, hostilities took place. The besieging army was directed in its military character by general Kellerman, who, with other distinguished soldiers, had now began to hold an eminent rank in the republican armies. But for the purpose of executing the vengeance for which they thirsted, the Jacobins relied chiefly on the exertions of the deputies they had sent along with the commander, and especially of the representative, Dubois Crance, a man whose sole merit appears to have been his frantic Jacobinism. General Percy, formerly an officer in the royal service, undertook the almost hopeless task of defence, and by forming redoubts on the most commanding situations around the town, commenced a resistance against the immensely superior force of the besiegers, which was honourable if it could have been useful. The Lyonnois, at the same time, still endeavoured to make fair weather with the besieging army, by representing themselves as firm republicans. They celebrated as a public festival the anniversary of the 10th of August, while Dubois Crance, to show the credit he gave them for their republican zeal, fixed the same day for commencing his fire on the place, and caused the first gun to be discharged by his own concubine, a female born in Lyons. Bombs and red-hot bullets were next resorted to, against the second city of the French empire; while the besieged sustained the attack with a constancy, and on many parts repelled it with a courage highly honourable to their character. But their fate was determined. The deputies announced to the convention their purpose of pouring their instruments of havoc on every quarter of the town at once, and when it was on fire in several places, to attempt a general storm. "The city," they said, "must surrender, or there shall not remain one stone upon another, and this we hope to accomplish in spite of the suggestions of false compassion. Do not then be surprised when you hear that Lyons exists no longer." The fury of the attack threatened to make good these promises.

The sufferings of the citizens became intolerable. Several quarters of the city were on fire at the same time, immense magazines were burnt to the ground, and a loss incurred, during two night's bombardment, which was calculated at two hundred millions of livres. A black flag was hoisted by the besieged on the Great Hospital, as a sign that the fire of the assailants should not be directed on that asylum of hopeless misery. The signal seemed only to draw the republican bombs to the spot where they could create the most frightful distresses, and outrage in the highest degree the feelings of humanity. The devastations of famine were soon added to those of slaughter; and after two months of such horrors had been sustained, it became obvious that farther resistance was impossible.

The parylitic Couthon, with Collot D'Herbois, and other deputies were sent to Lyons by the committee of public safety, to execute the vengeance which the Jacobins demanded; while Dubois Crance was recalled, for having put, it was thought, less energy to his proceedings than the prosecution of the siege required. Collot D'Herbois had a personal motive of a singular nature for delighting in the task intrusted to him and his colleagues. In his capacity of a play-actor, he had been hissed from the stage at Lyons, and the door to revenge was now open. The instructions of this committee enjoined them to take the most satisfactory revenge for the death of Chalier and the insurrection of Lyons, not merely on the citizens, but on the town itself. The principal streets and buildings were to be levelled with the ground, and a monument erected where they stood, was to record the cause:--"Lyons rebelled against the Republic--Lyons is no more." Such fragments of the town as might be permitted to remain, were to bear the name of Ville Affranchie. It will scarce be believed that a doom like that which might have passed the lips of some eastern despot, in all the frantic madness of arbitrary power and utter ignorance, could have been seriously pronounced, and as seriously enforced, in one of the most civilized nations in Europe; and that to the present enlightened age, men who pretended to wisdom and philosophy, should have considered the labours of the architect as a proper subject of punishment. So it was, however; and to give the demolition more effect, the impotent Couthon was carried from house to house, devoting each to ruin, by striking the door with a silver hammer, and pronouncing these words--"House of a rebel. I condemn thee in the name of the law." Workmen followed in great multitudes, who executed the sentence by pulling the house down to the foundations. This wanton demolition continued for six months, and is said to have been carried on at an expense equal to that which the superb military hospital, the Hotel des Invalides, cost its founder, Louis XIV. But republican vengeance did not waste itself exclusively upon senseless lime and stone--it sought out sentient victims.

The deserved death of Chalier had been atoned by an apotheosis executed after Lyons had surrendered; but Collot D'Herbois declared that every drop of that patriotic blood fell as if scalding his own heart, and that the murder demanded atonement. All ordinary process, and every usual mode of execution, was thought too tardy to avenge the death of a Jacobin proconsul. The judges of the revolutionary commission were worn out with fatigue--the arm of the executioner was weary--the very steel of the guillotine was blunted. Collot D'Herbois devised a more summary mode of slaughter. A number of from two to three hundred victims at once were dragged from prison to the place de Baotteaux, one of the largest squares in Lyons, and there subjected to a fire of grape-shot. Efficacious as this mode of execution may seem, it was neither speedy nor merciful. The sufferers fell to the ground like singed flies, mutilated but not slain, and imploring their executioners to despatch them speedily. This was done with sabres and bayonets, and with such haste and zeal, that some of the jailers and assistants were slain along with those whom they had assisted in dragging to death; and the mistake was not discerned, until, upon counting the dead bodies, the military murderers found them to amount to more than the destined tale. The bodies of the dead were thrown into the Rhone, to carry news of the republican vengeance, as Collot D'Herbois expressed himself, to Toulon, then also in a state of revolt. But the sullen stream rejected the office imposed on it, and headed back the dead in heaps upon the banks; and the committee of Representatives was compelled at length to allow the relics of their cruelty to be interred, to prevent the risk of contagion.

The Installation of the Goddess of Reason.

At length the zeal of the infuriated Atheists in France hurried them to the perpetration of one of the most ridiculous, and at the same time impious transactions which ever disgraced the annals of any nation. It was no less than a formal renunciation of the existence of a Supreme Being, and the installation of the Goddess of Reason, in 1793.

"There is," says Scott, "a fanaticism of atheism, as well as of superstitious belief; and a philosopher can harbour and express as much malice against those who persevere in believing what he is pleased to denounce as unworthy of credence, as an ignorant and bigoted priest can bear against a man who cannot yield faith to dogmata which he thinks insufficiently proved." Accordingly, the throne being totally annihilated, it appeared to the philosophers of the school of Hebert, (who was author of the most gross and beastly periodical paper of the time, called the Pere du Chene) that in totally destroying such vestiges of religion and public worship as were still retained by the people of France, there was room for a splendid triumph of liberal opinions. It was not enough, they said, for a regenerate nation to have dethroned earthly kings, unless she stretched out the arm of defiance towards those powers which superstition had represented as reigning over boundless space.

An unhappy man, named Gobet, constitutional bishop of Paris, was brought forward to play the principal part in the most impudent and scandalous farce ever acted in the face of a national representation.

It is said that the leaders of the scene had some difficulty in inducing the bishop to comply with the task assigned him, which, after all, he executed, not without present tears and subsequent remorse. But he did play the part prescribed. He was brought forward in full procession, to declare to the convention, that the religion which he had taught so many years, was, in every respect, a piece of priestcraft, which had no foundation either in history or sacred truth. He disowned, in solemn and explicit terms, the existence of the Deity to whose worship he had been consecrated, and devoted himself in future to the homage of liberty, equality, virtue, and morality. He then laid on the table his episcopal decorations, and received a fraternal embrace from the president of the convention. Several apostate priests followed the example of this prelate.

The gold and silver plate of the churches was seized upon and desecrated, processions entered the convention, travestied in priestly garments, and singing the most profane hymns; while many of the chalices and sacred vessels were applied by Chaumette and Hebert to the celebration of their own impious orgies. The world for the first time, heard an assembly of men, born and educated in civilization, and assuming the right to govern one of the finest of the European nations, uplift their united voice to deny the most solemn truth which man's soul receives, and renounce unanimously the belief and worship of a Deity. For a short time the same mad profanity continued to be acted upon.

One of the ceremonies of this insane time stands unrivalled for absurdity, combined with impiety. The doors of the convention were thrown open to a band of musicians; preceded by whom, the members of the municipal body entered in solemn procession, singing a hymn in praise of liberty, and escorting, as the object of their future worship, a veiled female, whom they termed the Goddess of Reason. Being brought within the bar, she was unveiled with great form, and placed on the right hand of the president; when she was generally recognized as a dancing-girl of the opera, with whose charms most of the persons present were acquainted from her appearance on the stage, while the experience of individuals was farther extended. To this person, as the fittest representative of that reason whom they worshipped the national convention of France rendered public homage.

This impious and ridiculous mummery had a certain fashion; and the installation of the Goddess of reason was renewed and imitated throughout the nation, in such places where the inhabitants desired to show themselves equal to all the heights of the revolution. The churches were, in most districts of France, closed against priests and worshippers--the bells were broken and cast into cannon--the whole ecclesiastical establishment destroyed--and the republican inscription over the cemeteries, declaring death to be perpetual sleep, announced to those who lived under that dominion, that they were to hope no redress even in the next world.

Intimately connected with these laws affecting religion, was that which reduced the union of marriage, the most sacred engagement which human beings can form, and the permanence of which leads most strongly to the consolidation of society, to the state of a mere civil contract of a transitory character, which any two persons might engage in, and cast loose at pleasure, when their taste was changed, or their appetite gratified. If fiends had set themselves to work, to discover a mode of most effectually destroying whatever is venerable, graceful, or permanent in domestic life, and of obtaining at the same time an assurance that the mischief which it was their object to create should be perpetuated from one generation to another, they could not have invented a more effectual plan than the degradation of marriage into a state of mere occasional co-habitation, or licensed concubinage. Sophie Arnoult, an actress famous for the witty things she said, described the republican marriage as the sacrament of adultery.

Fall of Danton, Robespierre, Marat and other Jacobins.

These monsters fell victims by the same means they had used for the destruction of others. Marat was poignarded in 1793, by Charlotte Corday, a young female, who had cherished in a feeling between lunacy and heroism, the ambition of ridding the world of a tyrant. Danton was guillotined in 1794. Robespierre followed soon after. His fall is thus described by Scott in his life of Napoleon.

At length his fate urged him on to the encounter. Robespierre descended to the convention, where he had of late but rarely appeared, like the far nobler dictator of Rome; and in his case also, a band of senators was ready to poignard the tyrant on the spot, had they not been afraid of the popularity he was supposed to enjoy, and which they feared might render them instant victims to the revenge of the Jacobins. The speech which Robespierre addressed to the convention was as menacing as the first distant rustle of the hurricane, and dark and lurid as the eclipse which announces its approach. Anxious murmurs had been heard among the populace who filled the tribunes, or crowded the entrances of the hall of the convention, indicating that a second 31st of May (being the day on which the Jacobins proscribed the Girondists) was about to witness a similar operation.

The first theme of the gloomy orator was the display of his own virtues and his services as a patriot, distinguishing as enemies to their country all whose opinions were contrary to his own. He then reviewed successively the various departments of the government, and loaded them in turn with censure and contempt. He declaimed against the supineness of the committees of public safety and public security, as if the guillotine had never been in exercise; and he accused the committee of finance of having counter-revolutionized the revenues of the republic. He enlarged with no less bitterness on withdrawing the artillery-men (always violent Jacobins) from Paris, and on the mode of management adopted in the conquered countries of Belgium. It seemed as if he wished to collect within the same lists all the functionaries of the state, and in the same breath to utter defiance to them all.

The usual honorary motion was made to print the discourse; but then the storm of opposition broke forth, and many speakers vociferously demanded, that before so far adopting the grave inculpations which it contained, the discourse should be referred to the two committees. Robespierre in his turn, exclaimed, that this was subjecting his speech to the partial criticism and revision of the very parties whom he had accused. Exculpations and defences were heard on all sides against the charges which had been thus sweepingly brought forward; and there were many deputies who complained in no obscure terms of individual tyranny, and of a conspiracy on foot to outlaw and murder such part of the convention as might be disposed to offer resistance. Robespierre was but feebly supported, save by Saint Just, Couthon, and by his own brother. After a stormy debate, in which the convention were alternately swayed by their fear and their hatred of Robespierre, the discourse was finally referred to the committees, instead of being printed; and the haughty and sullen dictator saw in the open slight, thus put on his measures and opinions, the sure mark of his approaching fall.

He carried his complaints to the Jacobin Club, to repose, as he expressed it, his patriotic sorrows in their virtuous bosoms, where alone he hoped to find succour and sympathy. To this partial audience he renewed, in a tone of yet greater audacity, the complaints with which he had loaded every branch of the government, and the representative body itself. He reminded those around him of various heroic eras, when their presence and their pikes had decided the votes of the trembling deputies. He reminded them of their pristine actions of revolutionary vigour--asked them if they had forgot the road to the convention, and concluded by pathetically assuring them, that if they forsook him, "he stood resigned to his fate; and they should behold with what courage he would drink the fatal hemlock." The artist David, caught him by the hand as he closed, exclaiming, in rapture at his elocution, "I will drink it with thee."

The distinguished painter has been reproached, as having, on the subsequent day, declined the pledge which he seemed so eagerly to embrace. But there were many of his original opinion, at the time he expressed it so boldly; and had Robespierre possessed either military talents, or even decided courage, there was nothing to have prevented him from placing himself that very night at the head of a desperate insurrection of the Jacobins and their followers.

Payan, the successor of Hebert, actually proposed that the Jacobins should instantly march against the two committees, which Robespierre charged with being the focus of the anti-revolutionary machinations, surprise their handful of guards, and stifle the evil with which the state was menaced, even in the very cradle. This plan was deemed too hazardous to be adopted, although it was one of those sudden and master strokes of policy which Machiavel would have recommended. The fire of the Jacobins spent itself in tumult, and threatening, and in expelling from the bosom of their society Collot d'Herbois, Tallien, and about thirty other deputies of the mountain party, whom they considered as specially leagued to effect the downfall of Robespierre, and whom they drove from their society with execration and even blows.

Collot d'Herbois, thus outraged, went straight from the meeting of the Jacobins to the place where the committee of public safety was still sitting, in consultation on the report which they had to make to the convention the next day upon the speech of Robespierre. Saint Just, one of their number, though warmly attached to the dictator, had been intrusted by the committee with the delicate task of drawing up that report. It was a step towards reconciliation; but the entrance of Collot d'Herbois, frantic with the insults he had received, broke off all hope of accommodation betwixt the friends of Danton and those of Robespierre. D'Herbois exhausted himself in threats against Saint Just, Couthon, and their master, Robespierre, and they parted on terms of mortal and avowed enmity. Every exertion now was used by the associated conspirators against the power of Robespierre, to collect and combine against him the whole forces of the convention, to alarm the deputies of the plain with fears for themselves, and to awaken the rage of the mountaineers, against whose throat the dictator now waved the sword, which their short sighted policy had placed in his hands. Lists of proscribed deputies were handed around, said to have been copied from the tablets of the dictator; genuine or false, they obtained universal credit and currency; and these whose names stood on the fatal scrolls, engaged themselves for protection in the league against their enemy. The opinion that his fall could not be delayed now became general.

This sentiment was so commonly entertained in Paris on the 9th Thermidor, or 27th July, that a herd of about eighty victims, who were in the act of being dragged to the guillotine, were nearly saved by means of it. The people, in a generous burst of compassion, began to gather in crowds, and interrupted the melancholy procession, as if the power which presided over these hideous exhibitions had already been deprived of energy. But the hour was not come. The vile Henriot, commandant of the national guards, came up with fresh forces also on the day destined to be the last of his own life, proved the means of carrying to execution this crowd of unhappy and doubtless innocent persons.

On this eventful day, Robespierre arrived in the convention, and beheld the mountain in close array and completely manned, while, as in the case of Catiline, the bench on which he himself was accustomed to sit, seemed purposely deserted. Saint Just, Couthon, Le Bas (his brother-in-law,) and the younger Robespierre, were the only deputies of name who stood prepared to support him. But could he make an effectual struggle, he might depend upon the aid of the servile Barrere, a sort of Belial in the convention, the meanest, yet not the least able, amongst those fallen spirits, who, with great adroitness and ingenuity, as well as wit and eloquence, caught opportunities as they arose, and was eminently dexterous in being always strong upon the strongest, and safe upon the safest side. There was a tolerably numerous party ready, in times so dangerous, to attach themselves to Barrere, as a leader who professed to guide them to safety if not to honour; and it was the existence of this vacillating and uncertain body, whose ultimate motions could never be calculated upon, which rendered it impossible to presage with assurance the event of any debate in the convention during this dangerous period.

Saint Just arose, in the name of the committee of public safety, to make, after his own manner, not theirs, a report on the discourse of Robespierre on the previous evening. He had begun a harangue in the tone of his patron, declaring that, were the tribune which he occupied the Tarpeian rock itself, he would not the less, placed as he stood there, discharge the duties of a patriot. "I am about," he said, "to lift the veil."--"I tear it asunder," said Tallien, interrupting him. "The public interest is sacrificed by individuals, who come hither exclusively in their own name, and conduct themselves as superior to the whole convention." He forced Saint Just from the tribune, and a violent debate ensued.

Billaud Varennes called the attention of the assembly to the sitting of the Jacobin club on the preceding evening. He declared the military force of Paris was placed under the command of Henriot, a traitor and a parricide, who was ready to march the soldiers whom he commanded, against the convention. He denounced Robespierre himself as a second Catiline, artful as well as ambitious, whose system it had been to nurse jealousies and inflame dissentions in the convention, so as to disunite parties, and even individuals from each other, attack them in detail, and thus destroy those antagonists separately, upon whose combined and united strength he dared not have looked.

The convention echoed with applause every violent expression of the orator, and when Robespierre sprung to the tribune, his voice was drowned by a general shout of "down with the tyrant!" Tallien moved the denunciation of Robespierre, with the arrest of Henriot, his staff-officers, and of others connected with the meditated violence on the convention. He had undertaken to lead the attack upon the tyrant he said, and to poignard him in the convention itself, if the members did not show courage enough to enforce the law against him. With these words he brandished an unsheathed poignard, as if about to make his purpose good. Robespierre still struggled hard to obtain audience, but the tribune was adjudged to Barrere; and the part taken against the fallen dictator by that versatile and self-interested statesman, was the most absolute sign that his overthrow was irrecoverable. Torrents of invective were now uttered from every quarter of the hall, against him whose single word was wont to hush it into silence.

This scene was dreadful; yet not without its use to those who may be disposed to look at it as an extraordinary crisis, in which human passions were brought so singularly into collision. While the vaults of the hall echoed with exclamations from those who had hitherto been the accomplices, the flatterers, the followers, at least the timid and overawed assentors to the dethroned demagogue--he himself, breathless, foaming, exhausted, like the hunter of classical antiquity when on the point of being overpowered and torn to pieces by his own hounds, tried in vain to raise those screech-owl notes, by which the convention had formerly been terrified and put to silence. He appealed for a hearing from the president of the assembly, to the various parties of which it was composed. Rejected by the mountaineers, his former associates, who now headed the clamour against him, he applied to the Girondists, few and feeble as they were, and to the more numerous but equally helpless deputies of the plain, with whom they sheltered. The former shook him from them with disgust, the last with horror. It was in vain he reminded individuals that he had spared their lives, while at his mercy. This might have been applied to every member in the house; to every man in France; for who was it during two years that had lived on other terms than under Robespierre's permission? and deeply must he internally have regretted the clemency, as he might term it, which had left so many with ungashed throats to bay at him. But his agitated and repeated appeals were repulsed by some with indignation, by others with sullen, or embarrassed and timid silence.

A British historian might say, that even Robespierre ought to have been heard in his defence; and that such calmness would have done honour to the convention, and dignified their final sentence of condemnation. As it was, they no doubt treated the guilty individual according to his deserts: but they fell short of that regularity and manly staidness of conduct which was due to themselves and to the law, and which would have given to the punishment of the demagogue the effect and weight of a solemn and deliberate sentence, in place of its seeming the result of the hasty and precipitate seizure of a temporary advantage.

Haste was, however, necessary, and must have appeared more so at such a crisis, than perhaps it really was. Much must be pardoned to the terrors of the moment, the horrid character of the culprit, and the necessity of hurrying to a decisive conclusion. We have been told that his last audible words, contending against the exclamations of hundreds, and the bell which the president was ringing incessantly, had uttered in the highest tones which despair could give to a voice naturally shrill and discordant, dwelt long on the memory, and haunted the dreams of many who heard him:--"President of assassins," he screamed, "for the last time I demand privilege of speech!" After this exertion, his breath became short and faint; and while he still uttered broken murmurs and hoarse ejaculations, the members of the mountain called out, that the blood of Danton choked his voice.

The tumult was closed by a decree of arrest against Robespierre, his brother, Couthon, and Saint Just; Le Bas was included on his own motion, and indeed could scarce have escaped the fate of his brother-in-law, though his conduct then, and subsequently, showed more energy than that of the others. Couthon hugging in his bosom the spaniel upon which he was wont to exhaust the overflowing of his affected sensibility, appealed to his decrepitude, and asked whether, maimed of proportion and activity as he was, he could be suspected of nourishing plans of violence or ambition. "Wretch," said Legendre, "thou hast the strength of Hercules for the perpetration of crime." Dumas, president of the revolutionary tribunal, with Henriot, commandant of the national guards, and other satellites of Robespierre, were included in the doom of arrest.

The convention had declared their sitting permanent, and had taken all precautions for appealing for protection to the large mass of citizens, who, wearied out by the reign of terror, were desirous to close it at all hazards. They quickly had deputations from several of the neighbouring sections, declaring their adherence to the national representatives, in whose defence they were arming, and (many undoubtedly prepared beforehand) were marching in all haste to the protection of the convention. But they heard also the less pleasing tidings, that Henriot, having effected the dispersion of those citizens who had obstructed, as elsewhere mentioned, the execution of the eighty condemned persons, and consummated that final act of murder, was approaching the Tuilleries, where they had held their sitting, with a numerous staff, and such of the Jacobinical forces as could hastily be collected.

Happily for the convention, this commandant of the national guards, on whose presence of mind and courage the fate of France perhaps for the moment depended, was as stupid and cowardly as he was brutally ferocious. He suffered himself without resistance, to be arrested by a few gens d'armes, the immediate guards of the convention, headed by two of its members, who behaved in the emergency with equal prudence and spirit.

But fortune, or the demon whom he had served, afforded Robespierre another chance for safety, perhaps even for empire; for moments which a man of self-possession might have employed for escape, one of desperate courage might have used for victory, which, considering the divided and extremely unsettled state of the capital, was likely to be gained by the boldest competitor.

The arrested deputies had been carried from one prison to another, all the jailers refusing to receive under their official charge Robespierre, and those who had aided him in supplying their dark habitations with such a tide of successive inhabitants. At length the prisoners were secured in the office of the committee of public safety. But by this time all was in alarm amongst the commune of Paris, where Fleuriot the mayor, and Payan the successor of Hebert, convoked the civic body, despatched municipal officers to raise the city and the Fauxbourgs in their name, and caused the tocsin to be rung. Payan speedily assembled a force sufficient to liberate Henriot, Robespierre, and the other arrested deputies, and to carry them to the Hotel de Ville, where about two thousand men were congregated, consisting chiefly of artillerymen, and of insurgents from the suburb of Saint Antoine, who already expressed their resolution of marching against the convention. But the selfish and cowardly character of Robespierre was unfit for such a crisis. He appeared altogether confounded and overwhelmed with what had passed and was passing around him; and not one of all the victims of the reign of terror felt its disabling influence so completely as he, the despot who had so long directed its sway. He had not, even though the means must have been in his power, the presence of mind to disperse money in considerable sums, which of itself would not have failed to insure the support of the revolutionary rabble.

Meantime the convention continued to maintain the bold and commanding front which they had so suddenly and critically assumed. Upon learning the escape of the arrested deputies, and hearing of the insurrection at the Hotel de Ville, they instantly passed a decree outlawing Robespierre and his associates, inflicting a similar doom upon the mayor of Paris, the procureur, and other members of the commune, and charging twelve of their members, the boldest that could be selected, to proceed with the armed force to the execution of the sentence. The drums of the national guards now beat to arms in all the sections under authority of the convention, while the tocsin continued to summon assistance with its iron voice to Robespierre and the civic magistrates. Every thing appeared to threaten a violent catastrophe, until it was seen clearly that the public voice, and especially amongst the national guards, was declaring itself generally against the terrorists.

The Hotel de Ville was surrounded by about fifteen hundred men, and cannon turned upon the doors. The force of the assailants was weakest in point of number, but their leaders were men of spirit, and night concealed their inferiority of force.

The deputies commissioned for the purpose read the decree of the assembly to those whom they found assembled in front of the city hall, and they shrunk from the attempt of defending it, some joining the assailants, others laying down their arms and dispersing. Meantime the deserted group of terrorists within conducted themselves like scorpions, which, when surrounded by a circle of fire, are said to turn their stings on each other, and on themselves. Mutual and ferocious upbraiding took place among these miserable men. "Wretch, were these the means you promised to furnish?" said Payan to Henriot, whom he found intoxicated and incapable of resolution or exertion; and seizing on him as he spoke, he precipitated the revolutionary general from a window. Henriot survived the fall only to drag himself into a drain, in which he was afterwards discovered and brought out to execution. The younger Robespierre threw himself from the window, but had not the good fortune to perish on the spot. It seemed as if even the melancholy fate of suicide, the last refuge of guilt and despair, was denied to men who had so long refused every species of mercy to their fellow-creatures. Le Bas alone had calmness enough to despatch himself with a pistol shot. Saint Just, after imploring his comrades to kill him, attempted his own life with an irresolute hand, and failed. Couthon lay beneath the table brandishing a knife, with which he repeatedly wounded his bosom, without daring to add force enough to reach his heart. Their chief, Robespierre, in an unsuccessful attempt to shoot himself, had only inflicted a horrible fracture on his under-jaw.

In this situation they were found like wolves in their lair, foul with blood, mutilated, despairing, and yet not able to die. Robespierre lay on a table in an anti-room, his head supported by a deal box, and his hideous countenance half hidden by a bloody and dirty cloth bound round the shattered chin.

The captives were carried in triumph to the convention, who, without admitting them to the bar, ordered them, as outlaws, for instant execution. As the fatal cars passed to the guillotine, those who filled them, but especially Robespierre, were overwhelmed with execrations from the friends and relatives of victims whom he had sent on the same melancholy road. The nature of his previous wound, from which the cloth had never been removed till the executioner tore it off, added to the torture of the sufferer. The shattered jaw dropped, and the wretch yelled aloud to the horror of the spectators. A masque taken from that dreadful head was long exhibited in different nations of Europe, and appalled the spectator by its ugliness, and the mixture of fiendish expression with that of bodily agony.

Thus fell Maximilian Robespierre, after having been the first person in the French republic for nearly two years, during which time he governed it upon the principles of Nero or Caligula. His elevation to the situation which he held, involved more contradictions than perhaps attach to any similar event in history. A low-born and low-minded tyrant was permitted to rule with the rod of the most frightful despotism a people, whose anxiety for liberty had shortly before rendered them unable to endure the rule of a humane and lawful sovereign. A dastardly coward arose to the command of one of the bravest nations in the world; and it was under the auspices of a man who dared scarce fire a pistol, that the greatest generals in France began their careers of conquest. He had neither eloquence nor imagination; but substituted in their stead a miserable, affected, bombastic style, which, until other circumstances gave him consequence, drew on him general ridicule. Yet against so poor an orator, all the eloquence of the philosophical Girondists, all the terrible powers of his associate Danton, employed in a popular assembly, could not enable them to make an effectual resistance. It may seem trifling to mention, that in a nation where a good deal of prepossession is excited by amiable manners and beauty of external appearance, the person who ascended to the highest power was not only ill-looking, but singularly mean in person, awkward and constrained in his address, ignorant how to set about pleasing even when he most desired to give pleasure, and as tiresome nearly as he was odious and heartless.

To compensate all these deficiencies, Robespierre had but an insatiable ambition, founded on a vanity which made him think himself capable of filling the highest situation; and therefore gave him daring, when to dare is frequently to achieve. He mixed a false and overstrained, but rather fluent species of bombastic composition, with the grossest flattery to the lowest classes of the people; in consideration of which, they could not but receive as genuine the praises which he always bestowed on himself. His prudent resolution to be satisfied with possessing the essence of power, without seeming to desire its rank and trappings, formed another art of cajoling the multitude. His watchful envy, his long-protracted but sure revenge, his craft, which to vulgar minds supplies the place of wisdom, were his only means of competing with his distinguished antagonists. And it seems to have been a merited punishment of the extravagances and abuses of the French revolution, that it engaged the country in a state of anarchy which permitted a wretch such as we have described, to be for a long period master of her destiny. Blood was his element, like that of the other terrorists and he never fastened with so much pleasure on a new victim; as when he was at the same time an ancient associate. In an epitaph, of which the following couplet may serve as a translation, his life was represented as incompatible with the existence of the human race:--

"Here lies Robespierre--let no tear be shed: Reader, if he had lived, thou hadst been dead."

The fall of Robespierre ended the "Reign of Terror." Most of the leaders who had acted a conspicuous part in these horrid scenes, met a doom similar to that of their leaders. It is impossible to convey to the reader any adequate conception of the atrocities committed in France during this gloomy period, in the name of liberty. Men, women, and children were involved in the massacres which took place at the instigation of the Jacobin chiefs. Hundreds of both sexes were thrown into the Loire, and this was called republican marriage and republican baptism. And it should never be forgotten, that it was not till France as a nation, had denied the existence of a Deity, and the validity of his institutions, that she was visited by such terrible calamities. Let it be "burnt in on the memory" of every generation, that such is the legitimate tendency of infidel opinions. They first destroy the conscience--blunt the moral sense--harden the heart, and wither up all the social and kindly affections, and then their votaries are ripe for any deed of wickedness within the possibility of accomplishment by human agency.

Says an eloquent writer--"When the Sabbath was abolished in France, the Mighty God whose being they had denied, and whose worship they abolished, stood aloof and gave them up,--and a scene of proscription, and assassination, and desolation, ensued, unparalleled in the annals of the civilized world. In the city of Paris, there were in 1803, eight hundred and seven suicides and murders. Among the criminals executed, there were seven fathers who had poisoned their children, ten husbands who had murdered their wives, six wives who had poisoned their husbands, and fifteen children who had destroyed their parents."

It may be profitable here to record the end of several other Jacobin leaders who had been conspicuous during these scenes of atrocity and bloodshed. Public opinion demanded that some of the most obnoxious members should be condemned. After hesitating for some time, at length the convention, pressed by shame on the one side and fear on the other, saw the necessity of some active measure, and appointed a commission to consider and report upon the conduct of the four most obnoxious Jacobin chiefs, Collot d'Herbois, Billaud Varennes, Vadier, and Barrere. The report was of course unfavourable; yet upon the case being considered, the convention were satisfied to condemn them to transportation to Cayenne. Some resistance was offered to this sentence, so mild in proportion to what those who underwent it had been in the habit of inflicting; but it was borne down, and the sentence was carried into execution. Collot d'Herbois, the demolisher and depopulator of Lyons, is said to have died in the common hospital, in consequence of drinking off at once a whole bottle of ardent spirits. Billaud Varennes spent his time in teaching the innocent parrots of Guiana the frightful jargon of the revolutionary committee; and finally perished in misery.

These men both belonged to that class of atheists, who, looking up towards heaven, loudly and literally defied the Deity to make his existence known by launching his thunderbolts. Miracles are not wrought on the challenge of a blasphemer more than on the demand of a sceptic; but both these unhappy men had probably before their death reason to confess, that in abandoning the wicked to their own free will, a greater penalty results even in this life, than if Providence had been pleased to inflict the immediate doom which they had impiously defied.

Encouraged by the success of this decisive measure, the government proceeded against some of the terrorists whom they had hitherto spared, but whose fate was now determined, in order to strike dismay into their party. Six Jacobins, accounted among the most ferocious of the class, were arrested and delivered up to be tried by a military commission. They were all deputies of the mountain gang. Certain of their doom, they adopted a desperate resolution. Among the whole party, they possessed but one knife, but they resolved it should serve them all for the purpose of suicide. The instant their sentence was pronounced, one stabbed himself with this weapon; another snatched the knife from his companion's dying hand, plunged it in his own bosom, and handed it to the third, who imitated the dreadful example. Such was the consternation of the attendants, that no one arrested the fatal progress of the weapon--all fell either dead or desperately wounded--the last were despatched by the guillotine.

After this decisive victory, and last dreadful catastrophe, Jacobinism, considered as a pure and unmixed party, can scarce be said to have again raised its head in France, although its leaven has gone to qualify and characterize, in some degree, more than one of the different parties which have succeeded them. As a political sect, the Jacobins can be compared to none that ever existed, for none but themselves ever thought of an organized, regular, and continued system of murdering and plundering the rich, that they might debauch the poor by the distribution of their spoils. They bear, however, some resemblance to the frantic followers of John of Leyden and Knipperdoling, who occupied Munster in the seventeenth century, and committed, in the name of religion, the same frantic horrors which the French Jacobins did in that of freedom. In both cases, the courses adopted by these parties were most foreign to, and inconsistent with, the alleged motives of their conduct. The Anabaptists practised every species of vice and cruelty, by the dictates, they said, of inspiration--the Jacobins imprisoned three hundred thousand of their countrymen in the name of liberty, and put to death more than half the number, under the sanction of fraternity.

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors repaired except where noted below.

Page vi, "Vallie's" changed to "valleys" (the valleys of Piedmont)

Page vii, "stupifies" changed to "stupefies (first stupefies the)

Page xi, "Hawkes" changed to "Haukes" (Ardeley, Haukes, and)

Page 18, "Icunum" changed to "Iconium" (Jerusalem, Iconium, Lystra)

Page 23, "northen" changed to "northern" (restless northern nations)

Page 26, "catechhmun" changed to "catechumen" (catechumen of Carthage)

Page 33, "i ine" changed to "in fine" (in fine, he was)

Page 39, "batoons" changed to "batons" (with batons, and)

Page 42, "martrydom" changed to "martyrdom" (conclusion of her martyrdom)

Page 51, "dioceas" changed to "diocese" (in the diocese)

Page 51, "remand" changed to "remanded" (They remanded him)

Page 60, "cardina" changed to "cardinal" (crowns of the cardinal)

Page 64, "no" changed to "not" (reached not to)

Page 73, "nflicted" changed to "inflicted" (inflicted twice without)

Page 73, "quiety" changed to "quietly" (peaceably and quietly)

Page 73, "hreatening" changed to "threatening" (threatening words to)

Page 75, "erwise" changed to "otherwise" (far otherwise than)

Page 77, "contributious" changed to "contributions" (last contributions to)

Page 77, word "a" was inferred and placed in text do to spacing and context (such a procedure)

Page 80, inconsistent quotation marks were retained as original intent could not be assertained.

Page 91, "iner" changed to "Gardiner" (Gardiner was drawn)

Page 91, "ne" changed to "near" (near the fire)

Page 125, "Vilaro" changed to "Villaro" (of Villaro and Bobbio)

Page 126, "apprended" changed to "apprehended" (Michialm, was apprehended)

Page 132, "dorpped" changed to "dropped" (till they dropped)

Page 134, "stil kep" changed to "still kept" (and still kept)

Page 136, "s" changed to "his" (completed his regiment)

Page 136, "retron" changed to "return" (and return thanks)

Page 137, "Vilaro" changed to "Villaro" (rocks of Villaro)

Page 137, word "to" inserted into text (put to death)

Page 138, "that" changed to "than" (than their suffering)

Page 158, "tr s" changed to "troops" (of his troops)

Page 158, "un ook" changed to "undertook" (princes undertook the)

Page 158, "wel" changed to "well" (were all well)

Page 159, "w s" changed to "was" (Zisca was solicited)

Page 175, "possesion" changed to "possession" (his possession.)

Page 179, "ban- s hour" changed to "banish our" (banish our preachers)

Page 180, "enj ned" changed to "enjoined" (strictly enjoined his)

Page 204, "see" changed to "she" (whom she forgave)

Page 206, "queen" changed to "Queen" (in Queen Mary's)

Page 207, "Northhampton" changed to "Northampton" (preached at Northampton)

Page 214, "halbered" changed to "halberd" (halberd struck him)

Page 222, "Osmand" changed to "Osmond" (Thomas Watts, Thomas Osmond)

Page 223, "Was" changed to "was" (he was brought)

Page 224, "sherif" changed to "sheriff" (of the sheriff)

Page 232, "passsed" changed to "passed" (he passed Bocardo)

Page 232, word "be" deleted from text. Original read "he be bent himself"

Page 235, the last four names in the article "Rev. T. Whittle, B. Green, T. Brown" do not match the names used in the article. As each was used only once, this was retained as author's intent could not be ascertained.

Page 237, "charg" changed to "charge" (closely the charge)

Page 239, "lest" changed to "lost" (forever lost his)

Page 248, "Asking" changed to "Askin" (Askin and one John Guin)

Page 251, "cemetry" changed to "cemetary" (their former cemetary)

Page 260, "hallejahs" changed to "hallelujahs" (invocations and hallelujahs)

Page 264, "he" changed to "the" (at the stake)

Page 268, "fo" changed to "for" (for these Dr.)

Page 268, word "I" inserted into text (I am unlearned)

Page 276, "Preston" changed to "Prest" (Mrs. Prest for some)

Page 278, "Duchman" changed to "Dutchman" (The Dutchman accused)

Page 285, "nowithstanding" changed to "notwithstanding" (notwithstanding his passion)

Page 292, "t" changed to "to" (every day, to)

Page 293, "beesech" changed to "beseech" (humbly beseech your)

Page 300, deleted repeated word "words". Original read "such words words fell"

Page 310, "Englisman" changed to "Englishman" (an Englishman, who)

Page 314, word "to" inserted into text (to his master)

Page 321, "Richlieu" changed to "Richelieu" (Cardinal Richelieu, the)

Page 321, duplicate word "in" deleted. Original read: "evening in in the city"

Page 325, "massacreing" changed to "massacring" (besides massacring at)

Page 326, "belley" changed to "belly" (up its belly)

Page 336, "addess" changed to "address" (address to the king)

Page 338, "religous" changed to "religious" (of religious duty)

Page 341, word "any" inserted into text (that any person)

Page 347, "Elb" changed to "Elba" (the Isle of Elba)

Page 357, "owever" changed to "however" (This, however, would)

Page 357, "no" changed to "not" (would not avail)

Page 370, word "of" inserted in text. (member of the Roman)

Page 376, "skekh" changed to "shekh" (The shekh declared)

Page 377, "wordly" changed to "wordly" (other worldly motives)

Page 386, word "but" presumed due to smudged text. (but when I)

Page 386, word "the" presumed due to smudged text. (merely the gospel)

Page 387, word "then" presumed due to smudged text. (and then there)

Page 391, "evi" changed to "evil" (you an evil)

Page 398, "o" changed to "to" (to which I was)

Page 399, Footnote: word "a" inserted into text (to a distance)

Page 406, the word "excellent" is presumed as the text was smudged. (a more excellent)

Page 408, repeated word "the" deleted. Original read: "or the the palace"

Page 410, "Assaad" changed to "Asaad" (history of Asaad)

Page 413, "words" changed to "word" (This word tells)

Page 416, "angy" changed to "angry" (more angry than ever)

Page 419, "enter d th" changed to "entered the" (entered the garden)

Page 425, word "I" inserted into text (period, I was)

Page 426, "are" changed to "or" (if you or any other)

Page 432, "word" changed to "words" (first words of)

Page 432, "worne" changed to "worn" (worn out with fatigue)

Page 437, "purose" changed to "purpose" (express purpose of)

Page 442, "Woongypee" changed to "Woongyee" (a Woongyee and Woondouk)

Page 445, "ion" changed to "accusation" (on an accusation)

Page 448, "beeen" changed to "been" (having been transmitted)

Page 453, "Misssionary" changed to "Missionary" (the Wesleyan Missionary)

Page 456, "tell" changed to "Tell" (Tell and Winkelreid)

Page 457, "enlighted" changed to "enlightened" (most enlightened cantons)

Page 480, "exeedingly" changed to "exceedingly" (continued exceedingly troublesome)

Page 481, word "in" inserted into text (in all christian)

Page 483, "subsisttence" changed to "subsistence" (his future subsistence)

Page 485, "cathdral" changed to "cathedral" (cathedral of Salisbury)

Page 486, "Canterbery" changed to "Canterbury" (archbishop of Canterbury)

Page 492, "unwieldly" changed to "unwieldy" (antiquated and unwieldy)

Page 496, "accummulated" changed to "accumulated" (individuals accumulated in)

Page 498, "t" changed to "It" (It required, as in)

Page 499, repeated word "Louis" was deleted. Original text reads: "will of Louis Louis XVI."

Page 501, "Vendee" changed to "Vendee" twice. (La Vendee)

Page 503, "terrour" changed to "terror" (terror was awakened)

Page 508, "poinarded" changed to "poignarded" (poignarded in 1793)

Page 508, "poinard" changed to "poignard" (poignard the tyrant)

Page 511, "l o" changed to "also" (also on the day destined)

Page 512, "assentators" changed to "assentors" (overawed assentors to the)

Varied capitalization of Christian, Jew, de Legal, and d'Herbois was retained. Inconsistent spacing in meanwhile/mean while was retained.

Different spellings of proper names such as Benifield and Benefield, Tlowtdan and Tlowtdau, Wittenberg and Wittenburg were retained. Varied hyphenation was retained throughout.