This epistle from the prince of letters, who with so much discernment placed his finger on the sore, soon became known; and when it reached the Sorbonne, the doctors, dismayed that a man so moderate and respected should reveal their secrets so boldly, saw no other means of saving their cause than by striking their enemies with terror. They dared do nothing against the sage of Rotterdam, who was besides out of their reach; but they swore that his friend Berquin should pay for his master. The theologians of the Sorbonne demanded that this gentleman should be brought to trial; Duprat, Louisa of Savoy, and Montmorency supported their petition. There was no means of evading it, and twelve judges were nominated by the pope and by the king.[98] These men were greatly embarrassed, for Berquin's irreproachable life, amiable character, inexhaustible charity, and regular attendance at public worship, had won universal esteem. However, as the first president De Selva, the fourth president Pailot, and some others, were either weak or fanatical persons, the Sorbonne did not lose all hope. One alone of the twelve caused any fear: this was William Budæus, called by Erasmus 'the prodigy of France;' an enlightened man, who, while professing a great respect for the Catholic Church, had more than once betrayed certain evangelical tendencies to his wife and children. The twelve judges proceeded with their investigation, without requiring the accused man to be shut up in prison. Berquin went and came as he pleased; he spoke to the judges and parliament, and convinced them of his innocence. But terror began to paralyse the weak minds among them; they were afraid of the righteous man; they would have nothing to do with 'that sort of people,' and turned their backs upon him. [Sidenote: MARGARET INTERCEDES FOR BERQUIN] Berquin now resolved to address the king and to get Margaret to support him. 'It was generally reported,' says one of the enemies of the Reform, 'that the Queen of Navarre took wondrous pains to save those who were in danger, and that she alone prevented the Reformation from being stifled in the cradle.'[99] Berquin went to the palace, and made his danger known to the queen. He found in Margaret the compassion which failed him elsewhere. She knew that we ought not 'to stand aside from those who suffer persecution for the name of Christ, and would not be ashamed of those in whom there was nothing shameful.'[100] Margaret immediately took up her pen, and sitting down at that table where she had so often pleaded both in prose and verse the cause of Christ and of christians, she wrote the king the following letter:—