the
highest ecclesiastical authorities both in the city and the nation. From
the writings of these doctors, Berquin drew twelve propositions which he
publicly declared to be "opposed to the Bible, and heretical;" and he
appealed to the king to act as judge in the controversy.

The monarch, not loath to bring into contrast the power and acuteness of
the opposing champions, and glad of an opportunity of humbling the pride
of these haughty monks, bade the Romanists defend their cause by the
Bible. This weapon, they well knew, would avail them little; imprisonment,
torture, and the stake were arms which they better understood how to
wield. Now the tables were turned, and they saw themselves about to fall
into the pit into which they had hoped to plunge Berquin. In amazement
they looked about them for some way of escape.

"Just at that time an image of the Virgin at the corner of one of the
streets, was mutilated." There was great excitement in the city. Crowds of
people flocked to the place, with expressions of mourning and indignation.
The king also was deeply moved. Here was an advantage which the monks
could turn to good account, and they were quick to improve it. "These are
the fruits of the doctrines of Berquin," they cried. "All is about to be
overthrown--religion, the laws, the throne itself--by this Lutheran
conspiracy."(324)

Again Berquin was apprehended. The king withdrew from Paris, and the monks
were thus left free to work their will. The Reformer was tried, and
condemned to die, and lest Francis should even yet interpose to save him,
the sentence was executed on the very day it was pronounced. At noon
Berquin was conducted to the place of death. An immense throng gathered to
witness the event, and there were many who saw with astonishment and
misgiving that the victim had been chosen from the best and bravest of the
noble families of France. Amazement, indignation, scorn, and bitter hatred
darkened the faces of that surging crowd; but upon one face no shadow
rested. The martyr's thoughts were far from that scene of tumult; he was
conscious only of the presence of his Lord.

The wretched tumbrel upon which he rode, the frowning faces of his
persecutors, the dreadful death to which he was going,--these he heeded
not; He who liveth and was dead, and is alive forevermore, and hath the
keys of death and of hell, was beside him. Berquin's countenance was
radiant with the light and peace of heaven. He had attired