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The Great Controversy
upon them. The most active and bitter of his opponents were the
learned doctors and monks of the theological department in the great
University of Paris, one of 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 acute-
ness of the opposing champions, and glad of an opportunity of hum-
bling 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.”—Ibid., b. 13, ch. 9.
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
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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