ces of Germany, with
the emperor at their head, to gather up their forces, enlist troops, and
make all needful preparations, to overwhelm the followers of Zwingle and
Luther; in order that, affrighted by the terrible retribution visited
upon their fellows, the remaining heretics should hasten to make their
submission to the Roman Church?" At the same time he threw out hints of
his ability to assist in the good work if only the French monarch would
not refuse his co-operation. But Francis was not ready for so sanguinary
an undertaking. Unmoved by the Pope's repeated solicitations, he replied
that it seemed to him that "neither piety nor concord would be promoted
by substituting an appeal to arms for the appeal to the Holy Scriptures,
to whose ultimate decision both Zwinglians and Lutherans professed
themselves at all times anxious to submit their doctrines and practice."
He added the unpalatable advice that the matters in dispute be
considered by a free and impartial council, and declared that, when the
council had rendered its verdict, he would spare no pains to sustain it.
All the usual pontifical artifices proved abortive. Francis, while
valuing highly the friendship of Rome, was not willing to forego the
advantages of alliance with the Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave of
Hesse.[309]

While the fickle monarch was thus drawn in opposite directions by
conflicting political considerations--at one time strengthening the
hands of the Protestant princes of Germany, at another, making common
cause with the Pope--the same diversity characterized the internal
condition of France.

[Sidenote: Execution of Jean de Caturce at Toulouse.]

At Toulouse, the seat of one of most noted parliaments, Jean de Caturce,
a lawyer of ability, was put to death by slow fire in the summer of
1532. His unpardonable offence was that he had once made a "Lutheran"
exhortation, and that, in the merry-making on the _Fete des
Rois_--Epiphany--he had recommended that the prayer, "May Christ reign
in our hearts!" be substituted for the senseless cry, "The king drinks!"
No more ample ground of accusation was needed in a city where the
luckless wight who failed to take off his cap before an image, or fall
on his knees when the bell rang out at "Ave Maria," was sure to be set
upon as a heretic.[310]

[Sidenote: Le Coq's evangelical sermon.]

In striking contrast with the tragedy enacted in the chief city of the
south was the favor openly showed to