In France it was long before the Reformation reached the lower classes--the masses, as it is the fashion to call them; the rural gentry, the men of education, the well-to-do tradesmen, artists, and “all who from their callings possessed any elevation of mind,” were the first converts.[8] They were naturally opposed by the clergy and the lawyers, for corporate bodies are always great enemies to change. Francis I. appears to have seen the desirability of a reform in the Church, not so much from religious as from political motives. He hated the monks, and was thwarted by the Sorbonne; he read the Holy Scriptures with his sister Margaret, and took the extraordinary step of inviting Melanchthon to France in order to arrange some compromise by which Popery and Protestantism might be united. It was a vain dream, even if the king were sincere, which is exceedingly doubtful. He might at one time have pleaded that the persecutions were carried on without his knowledge and even in defiance of him; but on 21st January, 1535, he took an active part in the burning of six unfortunate “Lutherans.” In this case his pride had been hurt by some rude and indefensible proceedings of the Reformed party;[9] but he could be equally unfeeling and unscrupulous from mere political expediency. In the same month of January, 1535, he issued a royal edict commanding the instant extirpation of heresy in every form; all who aided or harbored heretics, or did not inform against them, were to be punished as principals; and informers were to receive one-fourth part of the confiscation and fines--a sure mode of procuring victims. This decree was modified in June, when Francis was coquetting with the Protestant princes of Germany; but the pains and penalties were only remitted to such as abjured their faith and returned to the bosom of the Church. On 1st June, 1540, appeared the famous edict of Fontainebleau, confirming all previous edicts, and ordering the strictest search to be made for heretics; and, as if its provisions were not harsh enough, letters patent were issued at the end of October, 1542, enjoining every parliament in the kingdom to “execute prompt and rigorous judgment,” so that the new heresy might be destroyed root and branch. No time was lost in carrying out these dreadful instructions. Among the victims of this renewed persecution was one Delavoye, who being told that a warrant was out against him, and that the officers were on their way to seize him, refused to hide himself as his friends advised. “Hirelings and false prophets may do so,” he said; “but following the example of St. Paul, ‘_I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die for the name of the Lord Jesus._’” Another sufferer, Constantine by name, was taken to execution in a scavenger’s cart. In allusion to this he said, “Truly hath the apostle declared, ‘_We are as the filth of the earth, and the offscouring of all things._’ We stink in the nostrils