It would be easy to extend the list of doctors and pastors, who have acquired a name in the French Reformation during the seventeenth century. They generally preceded the great defenders of the (Roman) Catholic communion,—Arnauld, Nicole, Bossuet,—and in a degree, compelled their appearance. Why were such flourishing studies arrested by persecution? Why were men, who bore with so firm a hand the glorious burden of Calvin and Theodore de Bèze, driven to waste their pens upon their miserably dispersed places of worship and academies? This was indeed a disgrace to the Church of Rome and a misfortune for France.

XII.

We now resume the chain of events, of which the picture will be both sad and sorrowful. We will soften the outlines, but not efface them; for we are writing history. We may collect the lesson, that intolerance stands upon a slippery precipice, from which, the moment she has made a slip, she is dragged from iniquity to iniquity, and from violence to violence, until she reaches the most atrocious excesses—a moral which perhaps is not absolutely useless, even at this day.

Mazarin died in 1661; his death was a loss to the Reformed. Although he inspired them with little confidence, and was not friendly to them, this cardinal preferred the use of stratagem to that of force; and as he sought to support his foreign policy by the Protestant power, he dared not impose too hard a yoke upon the French Calvinists.

After his decease, Louis XIV. resolved to govern alone, and persecution increased. Not that this prince was naturally cruel; had he been so, he would have restrained himself out of respect for his own greatness; but he had been educated in hatred of the Huguenots. Other motives, which we shall explain, intervened later to strengthen the prejudices of his childhood, and the obliteration of heresy was one of the fixed ideas of his reign. He may have varied as to the means, have faltered between the course of persuasion and that of persecution, have even seemed to retrace his steps, and to defer until more favourable opportunities the execution of this great undertaking; but through all these fluctuations and adjournments, his object never changed.

In 1661 commissioners were nominated in each province to examine into the real or pretended violation of the Edict of Nantes, and to re-establish peace between the two communions. One of these commissioners was a (Roman) Catholic, the other a Calvinist. This measure would have been excellent, if the agents for carrying it out had enjoyed the same rights, and the authority whose duty it was to decide ultimately, had been impartial between them. It was however quite otherwise, and that which was intended as a guarantee to the Reformed, became a fresh source of troubles and iniquities.

The (Roman) Catholic commissioner appointed to each general district, was generally a man of consideration, holding a seat in Parliament, or even in the king’s council, and was known for his entire devotion to the interests of the Romish church. The Calvinist commissioner, on the contrary, with very rare exceptions, was either some poor gentleman ignorant of business, or some ambitious individual secretly sold to the court, and nominated by the intendants, sometimes even by the bishops, expressly to betray his duty. The first had all the power that accompanies a state religion; the second, all the weakness of a religion scarcely tolerated. One spoke with authority, invoking the name of the king; the other spoke with humility, in the name of the poor oppressed, whose fears he shared.

The commissioners were instructed to ascertain the rights of exercising worship in the contested districts. But as many churches had no authentic titles, either because they had never supposed that these documents would become necessary, or because they had been lost during the religious wars, they could only maintain their right by actual possession and traditional notoriety. Constant quibbling was the consequence of this—in order to defeat the claims of the churches. The syndics of the (Roman) Catholic clergy were admitted to interfere in these disputes, and sought to invade everything; and when there was any disagreement between the two commissioners, the matter was decided by the council, whose aim was to restrict the Huguenots to the narrowest limits; or by the intendants, who had no other object than that of paying their court to Louis XIV.

It is impossible to count in how many districts the exercise of the Reformed religion was interdicted, how many places of worship were razed, schools suppressed, charitable establishments confiscated for the benefit of the (Roman) Catholics, and how many individuals also experienced crying injustice, however incontestable might be their rights. This would fill volumes.

Some Jesuits and others published lengthy writings, in which, under pretence of interpreting the Edict of Nantes, they demolished it piecemeal. The more skilful they showed themselves in the invention of new sophisms against the execution of the law, the more they thought they deserved from their church. The priest Soulier, author of an Explanation of the Edict of Nantes, unintentionally confesses this in his dedicatory epistle to the bishops: “I shall esteem myself too fortunate, sirs,” says he, “if I can second the zeal of your daily labours, after the example of the greatest of kings, for the extinction of heresy.” The explanation was at all events designed, right or wrong, to extinguish heresy.