The public expectation, however, was doomed to disappointment. Only one of the accused, the advocate Guérin, being so unfortunate as to possess no great influence at court, was condemned to the gallows. D'Oppède escaped with De Grignan, through the protection of the Duke of Guise, and, like his fellow-defendants, was reinstated in office.[506] For the rendering of a decision so flagrantly unjust the true cause must be sought in the sanguinary character of the Parisian judges themselves, who, while they were reluctant, on the one hand, to derogate from the credit of another parliament of France, on the other, feared lest, in condemning the persecuting rage of others, they might seem to be passing sentence upon themselves for the uniform course of cruelty they had pursued in the trial of the reformers.[507] The oppressed and persecuted of all ages have been ready, not without reason, to recognize in signal disasters befalling their enemies the retributive hand of the Almighty himself lifting for a moment the veil of futurity, to disclose a little of the misery that awaits the evil-doer in another world. But, in the present instance, it is a candid historian of different faith who does not hesitate to ascribe to a special interposition of the Deity the excruciating sufferings and death which, not long after his acquittal, overtook Baron d'Oppède, the chief actor in the mournful tragedy we have been recounting.[508] [Sidenote: New persecution at Meaux.] The ashes of Mérindol and Cabrières were scarcely cold, before in a distant part of France the flame of persecution broke out with fresh energy.[509] The city of Meaux, where, under the evangelical preachers introduced by Bishop Briçonnet, the Reformation had made such auspicious progress, had never been thoroughly reduced to submission to papal authority. "The Lutherans of Meaux" had passed into a proverb. Persecuted, they retained their devotion to their new faith; compelled to observe strict secrecy, they multiplied to such a degree that their numbers could no longer be concealed. Twenty years after their destruction had been resolved upon, the necessity of a regular church organization made itself felt by the growing congregations. Some of the members had visited the church of Strasbourg, to which John Calvin had, a few years before, given an orderly system of government and worship--the model followed by many Protestant churches of subsequent formation. On their return a similar polity was established in Meaux. A simple wool-carder, Pierre Leclerc, brother of one of the first martyrs of Protestant France, was called from the humble pursuits of the artisan to the responsible post of pastor. He was no scholar in the usual acceptation of the term; he knew only his mother-tongue. But his judgment was sound, his piety fervent, his familiarity with the Holy Scriptures singularly great. So fruitful were his labors, that the handful of hearers grew into assemblies often of several hundreds, drawn