roic fortitude. He was only
twenty-four. He had commenced to preach at twenty, and laboured at the
work for only four years.

Brousson's health was fast giving way. Every place that he frequented
was closely watched, so that he had often to spend the night under the
hollow of a rock, or under the shelter of a wood, exposed to rain and
snow,--and sometimes he had even to contend with a wolf for the
shelter of a cave. Often he was almost perishing for want of food; and
often he found himself nearly ready to die for want of rest. And yet,
even in the midst of his greatest perils, his constant thought was of
the people committed to him, and for whose eternal happiness he
continued to work.

As he could not visit all who wished to hear him, he wrote out sermons
that might be read to them. His friend Henry Poutant, one of those who
originally accompanied him from Switzerland and had not yet been taken
prisoner by the soldiers, went about holding meetings for prayer, and
reading to the people the sermons prepared for them by Brousson.

For the purpose of writing out his sermons, Brousson carried about
with him a small board, which he called his "Wilderness Table." With
this placed upon his knees, he wrote the sermons, for the most part in
woods and caves. He copied out seventeen of these sermons, which he
sent to Louis XIV., to show him that what "he preached in the deserts
contained nothing but the pure word of God, and that he only exhorted
the people to obey God and to give glory to Him."

The sermons were afterwards published at Amsterdam, in 1695, under
the title of "The Mystic Manna of the Desert." One would have expected
that, under the bitter persecutions which Brousson had suffered during
so many years, they would have been full of denunciation; on the
contrary, they were only full of love. His words were only burning
when he censured his hearers for not remaining faithful to their
Church and to their God.

At length, the fury of Brousson's enemies so increased, and his health
was so much impaired, that he again thought of leaving France. His
lungs were so much injured by constant exposure to cold, and his voice
had become so much impaired, that he could not preach. He also heard
that his family, whom he had left at Lausanne, required his
assistance. His only son was growing up, and needed education. Perhaps
Brousson had too long neglected those of his own household; though he
had every confidence in the prudenc