journeyed to Geneva, at that time the head quarters of the French Reformers, where he acquired clearer knowledge of divine truth, and increased earnestness.  Zealous to communicate to others the faith he had adopted, he wandered from place to place through the provinces of his native land, exerting himself wherever he went to incite men to have ministers, and to gather themselves into church communion.  So eager was he to spread the gospel, that he took up with the trade of a printer, and printed Bibles, which he hawked about in the towns and villages.  In the course of his journeyings, he passed through one of the towns in which Palissy had taken up his temporary abode.  The spirit of the young artist was stirred within him as he listened to the animated exhortations of Hamelin, who, having gathered together a little flock of some seven or eight auditors, laboured to win them to God: and exhorted them to meet together for prayer and mutual instruction.

His teaching fell like the dew upon the heart of the young man, and he eagerly sought out the preacher and took counsel with him.  From that time the persecuted Huguenot commanded the love and reverence of Palissy, who never spoke of him but in terms of respect and affection.

At the period of which we are about to speak, although the persecutions had not yet reached Saintonge, the struggle had begun in many towns by the tumultuous rising of the people, and severe punishments were inflicted upon all who joined in these outbreaks.  Emissaries of the ecclesiastics were keenly on the watch for suspected characters, and it was at the risk of fine, imprisonment, and death, that the proceedings of men like Hamelin were carried on.  Nor was it without serious danger of compromising his own safety that Palissy cultivated the friendship of a man so attainted, and of this he was well aware.  It was, however, no part of his character to flinch from trouble or peril in such a cause.

It will be unnecessary to relate what passed between the two friends on the evening in which we have introduced Palissy to our readers.  The visit of Hamelin was secret and hurried.  He had come for the purpose of bringing to the poor people he had formerly taught around Saintes, three teachers, who, having been convinced of the errors of the Romish Church, had been constrained to take flight and exile themselves.  Having recommended them to the friendly notice of Bernard, and taken counsel with him as to certain precautionary measures, Hamelin hastened to quit the neighbourhood of a place in which he was too well known to venture himself openly.  Some years passed away before these two met again.

Shall we follow our artist homeward, as slowly and thoughtfully he retraced his steps thither?  He was pondering, in the earnestness of his heart, an idea which was indeed the mainspring of all his intellectual and moral activity.  Again and again in his writings does he solemnly recur to this idea, and in all the long years of his toil and suffering to acquire the skill which was to render him immortal in the history of art; this was his incentive and spur.  The parable of the talents—the duty of every man to turn to account the powers and gifts he has received from God—was the touchstone by which Bernard tried his work.

His own words, written long after, will best close this opening chapter.  “Though there be some who will at no time hear mention of the holy Scripture, yet so it is that I have found nothing better than to pursue the counsel of God; his edicts, statutes, and ordinances; and in regarding what might be his will, I have found that he has commanded his heirs that they should eat bread by the labour of their bodies, and that they should multiply the talents which he has committed to them.  Considering which, I have not been willing to hide in the ground those talents it has pleased him to allot me; but to cause them to yield profit and increase to him from whom I have received them.”

CHAPTER II.

“Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might.”

Eccles. ix. 10.

For a considerable time after he had settled at Saintes, Palissy went on surveying, painting, and designing, working industriously, and earning a competent, though slender, income for the support of his household—an increasing one—for he had now another baby to kiss, as well as a child upon his arms.  Conscious of his own strength, and dissatisfied with labour which produced only food, he naturally felt eager to accomplish something better than he had yet done.

There is often a long period, during which a man of genius is occupied in gathering together materials, unconscious what use they shall eventually serve; but the turning-point of his history comes, and suddenly, perhaps through a passing and merely accidental circumstance, he receives an impetus which directs him on to the fulfilment of his career.  It was thus in the case of Palissy.  Some two years after the events related in the preceding chapter, Bernard had received a little commission from one of the great seigneurs who lived in the neighbourhood of Saintes.  He was a man of much taste in the fine arts, and had in his possession some choice specimens of ancient Moorish pottery.  After showing these to Palissy (who had come to the château for directions), the nobleman, going to the cabinet from which they had been taken, drew out an earthen cup, turned and enamelled with so much beauty, that, at the sight of it, our artist was struck dumb with admiration.  He knew nothing of pottery, he had no knowledge of clays, and he was aware of the fact that there was no man in all France who could make enamels.

This last thought acted, perchance, as a stimulus to his ambition.  However that might be, the idea instantly took possession of his mind that he would make enamels.  They could be made, for here was a specimen.  To be the only man in the land who could produce these beautiful vases would be not only to secure an abundant supply for the wants of his family, but it would be a triumph of art—a riddle of deep interest to solve, and an occupation after his heart.

That evening he called his wife to him, and told her what he had seen, and how his heart was set upon learning to make enamels.  The poor woman saw by his beaming countenance that he was pleased; she knew that he loved her and their children, and she said not a word to discourage him, although he plainly told her, with that truthfulness which was as the very breath of his nostrils, that his first experiments must be made at great cost.  “There will be the loss of my time from my wonted occupation; besides that, I must purchase drugs and make me furnaces, and all, at first, a clear outlay, without fruit.  I shall have many drawbacks, and it may be a weary while before I master this art.  I shall be as a man that gropes his way in the dark, for I have no knowledge of clays, nor have I ever seen earth baked, nor do I know of what materials enamels are composed.”  His wife urged that he had better rest content with diligence in his own calling, and on her pale face came a blush of pleasure and pride as she looked up at him, who was already, in her esteem, a perfect artist.  But he heeded not her words, save that he tenderly bade her be of good cheer.  Poverty and pain would have mattered little to him personally; and had he been free from household cares, he would, in all likelihood, have wandered forth