The Parliaments of Toulouse, Rennes, Aix, and Poitiers, made themselves remarkable by the rigour and iniquity of their decrees. In every case of a Reformed and a (Roman) Catholic, of a pastor and a priest, of a place of worship and a church, of a consistory and an episcopal chapter, the heretical party was wrong, unless it had tenfold reason on its side, and its right was absolutely incontestable. These Parliaments interpreted the Edicts in such a manner that scarcely anything of them remained, and in criminal causes, the slightest evidence was sufficient to condemn the Religionists to excessive punishments. How could the complaints of the Reformed reach the court? They might no more hold political assemblies. The council year after year refused the authority to hold a national synod, and the voice of a single deputy-general, who might be left to the churches, was disregarded. At length, in 1658, the provincial synods determined to send ten deputies to Paris, commissioned to submit their grievances to the king. Louis XIV. made them wait four months for an audience, and when he condescended to receive them, he said to them drily, “I will examine your statement, and will do you justice.” Cardinal Mazarin was even more formal. “The king will show by his acts,” he told the deputies, “the good-will he bears towards you; be assured that I speak to you sincerely.” Honeyed words, which were not believed! All that the Reformers obtained, after the most persevering solicitations, was a vague promise that the king would observe the Edict of Nantes, “hoping that those of the pretended Reformed religion _would render themselves worthy of this favour_, by their good conduct, their fidelity, and their affection in his service.” The reply betrayed injurious suspicions, and the deputies did not conceal their chagrin. But the court retracted nothing; it only announced that commissioners from each religion should be sent into the provinces to watch over the execution of the Edicts. These commissioners entered upon their duties two or three years afterwards, and did the churches, as will be seen, much more harm than good. In 1659, peace having been concluded with Spain, Mazarin conceded to the wishes of the Reformed so far as to grant them permission to convoke a general synod. It was opened at Loudun on the 10th of November, 1659, and was the last of the national synods, at least of such as had the approval of public authority. One’s heart is filled with grief as the minutes of that assembly are read. Nothing but haughtiness, threats, accusations, and recrimination, appear on the side of the court; whilst on the side of the Reformers, it is all humility, abasement, and expression of gratitude,—gratitude for what? Doubtless for the evil that had not yet been done them!