lty for having embraced
the reformed tenets was reduced to imprisonment for a term of years,
often with bread and water for the only food and drink. The place of
confinement was sometimes a monastery, at other times the "_prisons of
Monseigneur the Bishop of Meaux_."[197] Thus Briconnet enjoyed the rare
and exquisite privilege of acting as jailer of unfortunates instructed
by himself in the doctrines for the profession of which they now
suffered! Meantime their companions having escaped detection, although
deprived of the advantage of public worship, continued for years to
assemble for mutual encouragement and edification, as they had
opportunity, in private houses, in retired valleys or caverns, or in
thickets and woods. Their minister was that person of their own number
who was seen to be the best versed in the Holy Scriptures. After he had
discharged his functions in the humble service, by a simple address of
instruction or exhortation, the entire company with one voice
supplicated the Almighty for His blessing, and returned to their homes
with fervent hopes for the speedy conversion of France to the
Gospel.[198] Thus matters stood for about a score of years, until a
fresh attempt was made to constitute a reformed church at Meaux, the
signal, as will appear in the sequel, for a fresh storm of persecution.

[Sidenote: Lefevre's subsequent history.]

A few words here seem necessary respecting the subsequent fortunes of
the venerable teacher whose name at this point fades from the history of
the French Reformation. The action of parliament (August 28, 1525), in
condemning, at the instigation of the syndic of the theological faculty,
nine propositions extracted from his commentary on the Gospels, and in
forbidding the circulation of his translation of the Holy Scriptures,
had given Lefevre d'Etaples due warning of danger. We have already seen
that a few weeks later (October, 1525) he had taken refuge in Strasbourg
under the pseudonym of Antonius Peregrinus. But the _incognito_ of so
distinguished a stranger could not be long maintained, and before many
days the very boys in the streets knew him by his true name.[199]
Meantime the Sorbonne, in his absence, proceeded to censure a large
number of propositions drawn from another of Lefevre's works. Shortly
after a letter was received from Francis the First, written in his
captivity at Madrid, and enjoining the court to suspend its vexatious
persecution of a man "of such gre