water, I vehemently conjured that the devil, if it was one, might come out of her; all in vain, the little thing cried out, 'I tell you, the idolaters shall not prevail against you, and this evil one shall find the reward of his misdeeds,' thereby meaning myself: the unfortunate child, because I was so zealous in my calling; then followed exhortation and singing, and pure fear of God and admonition to repentance. I could scarcely do it better myself: she then arose and seemed just as miserable and foolish as before. I cannot help you, said I to my penitent, you see that the word of God and holy water have no effect on her; hunger and chastisement just as little, nor has your persuasion, nor the fear of rendering you unhappy had any weight with her, leave it to herself. In short, the child ate and drank again, and became more zealous than ever in preaching repentance; so that at length the father was converted, or, at least, he ran to the mountains to the Camisards, and said: 'if he were to be punished, or executed, he should at least know wherefore.' Thus you see, I lost many penitents the preceding year, for when they have drawn suspicion on themselves, they prefer becoming rebels to avoid suffering anxiety, ill-treatment, and even death without a cause, as one may say. The case of the shepherd from my adjoining village is still more singular. He was a wild, reckless fellow, and as strong in the right faith as need be wished; he had already delivered more than one Camisard and suspected person up to the executioner. He came running to me one morning at a very early hour, crying out, 'Help, help, reverend sir!' 'what is the matter now,' said I, 'have the Camisards set fire to your house, as they have always threatened to do, on account of your zeal?' 'Ah, much worse, much worse,' cried the knave, wringing his brown, bony hands. 'Speak out shepherd,' said I, 'Do you know,' he began, 'my son, the tall Michael,--who does not know the lanky looby--he is known to almost all the mountaineers, it is indeed the cross of your house, that the idiot is so useless: he will neither work, nor mind the herds; he is so stupid, that he is scarcely considered a member of the church, yet he often enough disturbs the congregation; he is only fit to carry burdens, and prefers living with the dogs, which he frequents as if they were his equals: Is he departed this transitory life? rejoice, for you have one burden less.' 'It is not that indeed,' exclaimed the old man, incensed, 'Oh, I should not grieve for that: But think, who in the world would have supposed that the long broom-stick would have become a prophet?' 'How?' cried I, my mouth and eyes wide open with amazement; 'so, a blockhead, who is good for nothing else in the world, may become one of their prophets?' I went therefore with the old man, but the affair turned out still more strangely. As we entered the house, the thin, bony man was just in the act of prophecying, speaking in a pure