the like punishment, and finally branded
on the forehead with a red-hot iron, before being banished forever from
the kingdom.[182]

The cruel prescription was followed out to the letter (March, 1525). A
superstitious multitude flocked together to see and gloat over the
condign punishment of a heretic, and gave no word of encouragement and
support. But, as the iron was leaving on Leclerc's brow the ignominious
imprint of the _fleur-de-lis_,[183] a single voice suddenly broke in
upon the silence. It was that of his aged mother, who, after an
involuntary cry of anguish, quickly recovered herself and shouted, "Hail
Jesus Christ and his standard-bearers!"[184] Although many heard her
words, so deep was the impression, that no attempt was made to lay hands
upon her.[185]

[Sidenote: He is burned alive at Metz.]

From Meaux, Leclerc, forced to leave his home, retired first to Rosoy,
and thence to Metz.[186] Here, while supporting himself by working at
his humble trade, he lost none of his missionary spirit. Not content
with communicating a knowledge of the doctrines of the Reformation to
all with whom he conversed, his impatient zeal led him to a new and
startling protest against the prevalent, and, in his view, idolatrous
worship of images. Learning that on a certain day a solemn procession
was to be made to a shrine situated a few miles out of the city gates,
he went to the spot under cover of night, and hurled the sacred images
from their places. On the morrow the horrified worshippers found the
objects of their devotion prostrated and mutilated, and their rage knew
no bounds. It was not long before the wool-carder was apprehended. His
religious sentiments were no secret, and he had been seen returning from
the scene of his nocturnal exploit. He promptly acknowledged his guilt,
and was rescued from the infuriated populace only to undergo a more
terrible doom at the hands of the public executioner (July 22, 1525).
His right hand was cut off at the wrist, his arms, his nose, his breast
were cruelly torn with pincers; but no cry of anguish escaped the lips
of Leclerc. The sentence provided still further that, before his body
should be consigned to the flames, his head be encircled with a red-hot
band of iron. As the fervent metal slowly ate its way toward his very
brain, the bystanders with amazement heard the dying man calmly repeat
the words of Holy Writ: "Their idols are silver and gold, the work of
men's hands." He had