This is a very remarkable statement. The light of many of these ancient witnesses was almost ready to go out in darkness when God raised up the reformers. They had suffered that woman Jezebel to teach among them, and to seduce the servants of God. They had even come to practice infant baptism, and the priests of Rome administered the rite! And in addition to all this, they sometimes joined with them in the service of the mass! If a portion of the Waldenses in southern Europe at the time of the Reformation had exchanged believers’ baptism for the baptism of children by Romish priests, it is not difficult to see how they could also accept the Sunday-Lord’s day from the same source in place of the hallowed rest-day of the Lord. All had not done this, but some certainly had.

D’Aubigné makes a very interesting statement respecting the French Waldenses in the fifteenth century. His language implies that they had a different Sabbath from the Catholics. He tells us some of the stories which the priests circulated against the Waldenses. These are his words:—

“Picardy in the north and Dauphiny in the south were the two provinces of France best prepared [at the opening of the Protestant Reformation] to receive the gospel. During the fifteenth century many Picardins, as the story ran, went to Vaudery. Seated round the fire during the long nights, simple Catholics used to tell one another how the Vaudois (Waldenses) met in horrible assembly in solitary places, where they found tables spread with numerous and dainty viands. These poor Christians loved indeed to meet together from districts often very remote. They went to the rendezvous by night and along by-roads. The most learned of them used to recite some passages of Scripture, after which they conversed together and prayed. But such humble conventicles were ridiculously travestied. ‘Do you know what they do to get there,’ said the people, ‘so that the officers may not stop them? The devil has given them a certain ointment, and when they want to go to Vaudery, they smear a little stick with it. As soon as they get astride it, they are carried up through the air, and arrive at their Sabbath without meeting anybody. In the midst of them sits a goat with a monkey’s tail: this is Satan, who receives their adoration.’... These stupid stories were not peculiar to the people: they were circulated particularly by the monks. It was thus that the inquisitor Jean de Broussart spoke in 1460 from a pulpit erected in the great square at Arras. An immense multitude surrounded him; a scaffold was erected in front of the pulpit, and a number of men and women, kneeling and wearing caps with the figure of the devil painted on them, awaited their punishment. Perhaps the faith of these poor people was mingled with error. But be that as it may, they were all burnt alive after the sermon.”[903]

It seems that these Waldenses had a Sabbath peculiar to themselves. And D’Aubigné himself alludes to something peculiar in their faith which he cannot confess as the truth, and does not choose to denounce as error. He says, “Perhaps the faith of these poor people was mingled with error.” To speak of the observance of the seventh day as the Sabbath of the Lord by New-Testament Christians, subjects a conscientious first-day historian to this very dilemma. We have a further account of the Waldenses in France, just before the commencement of the Reformation of the sixteenth century:—

“Louis XII., king of France, being informed by the enemies of the Waldenses inhabiting a part of the province of Provence, that several heinous crimes were laid to their account, sent the Master of Requests, and a certain doctor of the Sorbonne, who was confessor to His Majesty, to make inquiry into this matter. On their return, they reported that they had visited all the parishes where they dwelt, had inspected their places of worship, but that they had found there no images, nor signs of the ornaments belonging to the mass, nor any of the ceremonies of the Romish church; much less could they discover any traces of those crimes with which they were charged. On the contrary, they kept the Sabbath day, observed the ordinance of baptism according to the primitive church, instructed their children in the articles of the Christian faith and the commandments of God. The king having heard the report of his commissioners, said with an oath that they were better men than himself or his people.”[904]

We further read concerning the Vaudois, or Waldenses, as follows:—

“The respectable French historian, De Thou, says that the Vaudois keep the commandments of the decalogue, and allow among them of no wickedness, detesting perjuries, imprecations, quarrels, seditions, &c.”[905]

It maybe proper to add that in 1686 the Waldenses were all driven out of the valleys of Piedmont, and that those who returned and settled in those valleys three years afterward, and from whom the present race of Waldenses is descended, fought their way back, sword in hand, pursuing in all respects a course entirely different from that of the ancient Waldenses.[906]

Another class of witnesses to the truth during the Dark Ages, bore the name of Cathari, that is, Puritans. Jones speaks of them as follows:—

“They were a plain, unassuming, harmless, and industrious race of Christians, patiently bearing the cross after Christ, and, both in their doctrines and manners, condemning the whole system of idolatry and superstition which reigned in the church of Rome, placing true religion in the faith, hope and obedience of the gospel, maintaining a supreme regard to the authority of God in his word, and regulating their sentiments and practices by that divine standard. Even in the twelfth century their numbers abounded in the neighborhood of Cologne, in Flanders, the South of France, Savoy, and Milan. ‘They were increased,’ says Egbert, ‘to great multitudes, throughout all countries.’”[907]