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three little loaves, and often some soup, since which my head is almost settled, and I sleep much better, and my giddiness is almost over. After the comfortable news which I now tell you, think no more, but to rejoice at such tidings, and how to praise God for them, and labor after thy health, which shall always be my concern. This I conjure you, in the name of God. Let not your suspicions any more trouble the rest and satisfaction which I find in the possession of his- favor.”

On January the first, 1692, Mr. Marolles wrote a letter to one of his companions in affliction. After having acquainted him with the situation of his soul, and assured him, that through the grace of God, flesh and blood had never harrassed him to yield to any of their pernicious counsels: he gives him an account of his little necessities, and says, “I entreat you with my usual boldness, to buy me, if you can, for three sols and a half, some thread which is not dyed, to mend my linen; and as much brown thread for my breeches and other cloaths; and cause the whole to be wound up in two bottoms. That will be enough to serve me the remainder of my days. It is above six weeks since the serjeants have asked the major every day for some thread for me, without the least success. Thus do I fare in all things with him. He has refused to get my linen washed for three months.”

In the following letter, Mr. Marolles tells his friend, “ You speak just to my mind, my dear

brother, brother, when you say., that we alone shall be the persons to whom the king will not make to feel the effects of his clemency. We are brought upon the stage, in order to strike a terror into the whole kingdom, and upon whom must fall that vengeance, whicn the king makes those feel who do not acquiesce and submit to his orders. But if we have had the misfortune to disobey our great monarch, let this be our comfort, that we did it out of an indispensible necessity. We have preferred the obedience which we owe to the divine majesty, to the mandates of a mortal prince. This is the 'laudable crime for which we suffer so many miseries. Let us always fix our minds on the glorious recompense, which God reserves, in heaven, for us, for that very crime which the God of this world, perhaps, will never forgive us. Let us wait the will of the Lord, and be always faithful to him.”

He wrote again to his wife, March the twentyfourth, 1692, and acquainted her with the sole trouble which had afflicted him during his captivity. He tells her, that he had received her letter of the sixteenth of December with joy; after this, he observes, that the pleasure of their correspondence might be interrupted, and says, she must prepare herself for that trial. Then he adds, “The christian manner, my dear wife, in which you received the account of my sufferings, engages me to hide nothing of that kind from you. All that you yet know, is but very little in comparison

of of what I am now going to tell you. I know very well, that I cannot do this, without making an open confession of my infirmities, and of the narrowness of my spirit: but I have always been sincere, and I will continue so to the end. I will endeavour to make myself pass for no other than for å man of very common endowments.”

“ When I was taken out of the galley and brought hither, I found at first, a great deal of pleasure in the change. My ears were no longer offended with the horrid and blasphemious sounds, with which those places continually echoed. I had the liberty to sing, at every turn, the praises of iny God. I could prostrate myself before him as often as I pleased. Moreover, I was discharged from that uneasy chain, which was much more troublesome to me, than that of thirty pounds weight which you saw me carry. But notwithstanding all these troubles, the Lord, who resolved to make me experience his succour and assistance, in a rare, and extraordinary manner, suffered mc to fall into a terrible trial. The solitude and perpetual darkness in which I then spent my days, presented my narrow soul with such frightful and terrifying ideas, that made a very dreadful impression on my mind. It was filled with a million of false and vain imaginations, that often transported it into deliriums and idle fancies, which sometimes lasted for the space of two whole hours. My prayers were no remedy against this evil; God was pleased it should continue some months. I was plunged into a profound abyss of affliction. When I considered this sorrowful condition, and the little bodily rest I then had, I concluded this was the high road to distraction, and that I should never escape falling into that state. I incessantly implored the succours of my God. I begged of him that he would never suffer my enemies to triumph over me, and over my sufferings, in so sorrowful a manner. At length, after much prayer, with many sighs and tears, the God of my deliver ance heard my petitions; and after so many tempests, sent me a perfect calm and serenity, and dissipated all those illusions which gave me so much trouble.”

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“ Since God has delivered me out of so sore a trial, never have any doubt, my dearest wife, that he will not deliver me out of all other trials. Do not, therefore, disquiet yourself any more about me. Hope always in the goodness of God, and your hopes shall not be in vain. I ought not, in my opinion, to forget a considerable circumstance which tends to the glory of God. The duration of so great a trial, was, in my opinion, the proper time for the old serpent to endeavour to cast me into rebellion and infidelity. But God always kept him in so profound a silence, that he never once offered to infest me with any of his pernicious counsels; and I never felt the least inclination to revolt. Ever since those sorrowful days, God has always filled my heart with joy. I possess 'my soul in patience. He makes the days of


my affliction speedily pass away. I have no sooner begun them, but I find myself at the end of them: for, with the bread and water of affliction, by which he tries me, he affords me continually, the most delicious repasts.”

This is the last letter of our blessed martyr that came into Mr. Jaquelot's hands. There is reason to believe, that his enemies doubled their rigour to deprive him of his precious consolation; since we are informed, by a letter from a faithful confessor, who was on board the galley, and who ran all hazards to do him all the services he could, that the extreme weakness of his body and eyes, hindered him from reading and writing, a month or two, before his death, which took place June the seventeenth, 1692

In a letter from Marseilles, Júne the twentieth, 1692, the writer of it says, “The subject of this letter, is chiefly to acquaint you with the death of Mr. Marolles, that famous confessor of Christ, who has been so long shut up in a dungeon, in the great citadel, where the catholics made him suffer so much. He was pressed to the last by them to change his religion, but he always persevered in his own. He died the day before yesterday, and was buried by the Turks among Turks: thus is he out of his misery, and crowned with glory in Abraham's bosoin. We ought to desire to end our days as holily as he did, who died a true martyr, with great constancy and resignation : thus dying, he


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