PROBABLY, the happiest time of Palissy’s life is that at which we are now arrived. He may be accounted to have reached the end of his great period of struggle as a potter. He was labouring prosperously in his vocation; he was yet in the vigour of his age, and he had, above all, the enjoyment of feeling that he had solved the problem and effected the object for which he had endured a long struggle with privation and contumely. We will not dwell on the remaining disappointments he had been doomed to suffer before he attained this point. They were numerous and painful in the extreme. We get a passing glimpse of them in the following incident. One day he encountered a friend whom he had not seen for many a long year. He had first met with him in the days of his youth at Tarbes, where they had worked together, and listened in company to the teachings of Hamelin. His companion had, in consequence, embraced the Reformed doctrine, and afterwards became one of the colporteurs employed in the circulation of religious books. In the course of his wanderings he had occasionally visited Saintes, but it was long since he had been there. As on former occasions, he now eagerly sought out Palissy, to whom he related much of deep interest with reference to the progress of religious truth throughout the provinces of France, while, at the same time, he drew a distressing picture of the fearful sufferings of all classes; for it has been said, and probably with little exaggeration, that in France during the sixteenth century, there scarcely lived a poor rustic, the current of whose life was not distressed and troubled by the course of state affairs; and who had not been, or was not destined at some time of his life to be, heavily bruised by a hard-fisted government. Having finished his narrative, the worthy man asked of Bernard some particulars concerning his own history, and that which had transpired in the good town of Saintes during the last few years.