The 12th of January 1549.
Mademoiselle my Sister,—I am very glad that your letter has afforded an occasion for my writing to you, so that without further excuse access and freedom have been given me, were it for nought else than to declare the affection I have for you. Therein, that is in your letter, I can perceive evident and clear signs of spiritual vitality; and I have not a doubt but the heart speaks therein quite as much, or rather more than the mouth. Besides, you shew convincingly that you have no longer mere passing convictions, such as many people have now-a-days, but that you have been touched to the quick, and moved with the desire of dedicating yourself wholly to God and to his will. It is very true, as you say, that while clinging from worldly fear to the superstitions which in the world reign paramount, you are still very far from that perfection whereto our gracious God doth call us. But yet it is to have made some progress even to acknowledge our sins, and to be displeased with them. You must now advance farther, and condemning your own weakness, set yourself in earnest about getting rid of it; and if you cannot succeed all at once in compassing your wish, yet nevertheless you must persevere in seeking the remedy for it, until you have been completely cured. To do this, you will find it to be of advantage to call yourself to account day by day, and while acknowledging your faults, to groan within yourself, and mourn over them before God, so that your displeasure against whatsoever is evil may become more intense, until you are quite confirmed and resolved to renounce it as you ought, even as indeed I feel assured you labour hard to do. And it is not in vain that you beg of me to join my prayers with yours, to seek with importunity to God that he would be pleased to have compassion upon you, and to deliver you from this unhappycaptivity. Let us continue then with one accord to put up this request, and he will at length make manifest that you have not altogether lost your time. True, sometimes he lets us grow faint, and before declaring effectually that he has heard our prayers, he seems to keep at a distance, as much to sharpen our desire, as to make trial of our patience; and, therefore, you need not reckon that hitherto your prayers to him have been in vain, but much rather take encouragement, and strive even more and more, knowing that if perseverance be required throughout our whole life, it is specially desired in prayer. And, besides, you must also take care in real earnest to fan the flame which God has already begun to kindle within you; for all the gracious affections he breathes into us, are just so many sparks which we must not extinguish, or allow to go out by our heedlessness. Since, then, God has already opened your eyes so far, that you admit we ought to be his peculiar ones, and dedicated to him in righteousness, so as to glorify him as well in our bodies as in our souls; seeing also that he has touched your heart, so that you have some feeling of our unhappiness in alienation from him, unquestionably you must not now go to sleep or trifle away at your ease, but even as we stir fire when it does not burn as it ought to do, it is quite right that you be upstirred yet more and more, until the longing desire to devote yourself wholly to him and to his righteousness, overcomes all hindrances either from the flesh or from the world. I see, or at least take into view, the very great difficulties you have where you are; but since these considerations do not excuse you in the sight of God, when the question is of obedience to his word, and also in a thing of so great importance as the rendering unto him the glory which is due, and the making confession of your Christianity,—if I desire your salvation as I ought, as God is my witness that I do, it is my duty to awaken you, so far as I possibly can, not that I can teach you any new thing, but that on my part I may assist you in making a right use of that knowledge which God has vouchsafed you; to wit, how reasonable it is that his honour be preferred to our life, and also that we endeavour to put away all those subterfuges, which our flesh suggests to us,for turning aside from the path which he points out. That we may do so, we must learn a habit of forgetting ourselves, for the allurements of the world are no less dangerous than open war. The most humble have their share. You, on the other hand, owing to the high condition wherein God has set you, have a larger portion. But you must consider that this is a discipline God sends you, in order that you may all the better manifest the strength and vigour of the savour of our heavenly life, when you shall have surmounted those great obstacles, following out in spite of them your heavenly calling. However, Mademoiselle, when you feel your own infirmity so great, that in the midst of dangers you are unable to give glory to God, do not neglect the remedy, which is to betake yourself to the cross, where you may be joined to the flock, and hear the voice of the Shepherd; whatever may happen, shun to be as a sheep straying in the wilderness. When you are in such a disposition, there is no doubt that God will have compassion upon you, that himself will provide when you shall see no means of doing so; for it is thus that he withdraws his own not only from the mouths of wolves, but from the very depths of hell.
I have received the ten crowns which you have sent for the support of the poor believers who have need of it.[217]I have intrusted them to a discreet hand, to make distribution according to your intention. May the Lord vouchsafe acceptance of this alms at your hands, as a sacrifice of a sweet savour, and cause you one day to rejoice in the spiritual benefits which he has imparted to those you are thus helping in their earthly poverty.
And now, Mademoiselle, having commended me humbly to your kind favour, with prayer to our good Lord to uphold you in his protection, to govern you always by his Spirit, and to assist you in every way and evermore, I shall conclude forthe present. My wife also desires to be humbly commended to your kind favour.
Your servant and humble brother,
Charles D'Espeville.
[Fr. copy.—Library of Geneva.Vol. 108.]
[Geneva,16th January 1549.]
Grace to you, and peace, from God our Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ.—Very dear brethren, deserving of my hearty reverence, what we so long feared has at length come to pass, for Satan has, by the aid of his ministers, overturned among you also the order of the Church as established by God. Yet your letter was consolatory—so far as there could be any consolation in so very sad a state of things—for we learned from it that you were all faithful to the last in the discharge of your duty. In denouncing, as you say you did, those seducers who were making themselves busy in defiling the purity of sound doctrine, you acted with a decision worthy of the ministers of Christ. You now give a bright example of the sincerity of your faith, in preferring even exile to perfidious dissimulation. For when he who had hitherto given a hospitable reception within his dominions to the Church of Christ, and had granted you full permission to preach Christ, now deprives youof the office of teachers, there is no use in pushing the matter farther, as we think, especially when there is no hope of making progress, and when the sheep, over which Christ had made you pastors, no longer desire your services. As he is a traitor who voluntarily yields up and deserts his post, so it is our duty, when forced, not to offer resistance, unless perhaps we should be expressly called upon by the Church to undergo the extremity; for it is a hundred times better to die, than for those who were prepared to follow Christ to make vain their vows. But your case is far different; for so long as you were pastors, you were faithful and assiduous in your attention to your flocks. Now when there is no use in desiring to persevere, and when the sheep themselves, to whom your faith was pledged, do not consider it profitable for you to proceed farther, you are certainly free from all further obligation. It remains, therefore, for you to commend to Christ the charges committed to you, that he alone by his Spirit may give guidance when you have no longer any opportunity of carrying on your labours. Henceforward we may imagine what your sorrow must be, seeing that nothing presents itself to you but exile and poverty. But your greatest affliction will be caused by the misery of the Church, for whose interests you have evinced greater regard than for your own. And we indeed are equally affected—as we ought to be—by your public and private misfortunes. Would that we could extend a helping hand to you! For the rest, we exhort you to hold on to the end in this your testimony of Christian sincerity. Your lot, however hard, will be more blessed than if you maintained a name and a place where the Son of God was exiled. Yet we shall soon see him so reigning in heaven, as to make his power appear also on the earth. Meanwhile, it becomes us to be ready for the warfare, since it is not yet the hour of triumph. Adieu, best and most upright brethren. May the Lord Jesus Christ be with you, may he comfort and support you in your devoted steadfastness.
Your brethren truly in the Lord, the Ministers of the Church of Geneva.—In the name of all,
John Calvin.
[Calvin's Lat. Corresp.—Opera, tom. ix. p. 50.]
Geneva,21st January 1549.
I at length received your former letter, which I thought had been destroyed, three days before the latter of the two reached me. For when the person who married the other sister[220]sought Hooper's[221]letter from his companion, observing another small packet, he immediately laid hands on it. His companion, either from modesty, or from some cause I know not what, did not dare to take it from him. I have read your annotations, from which I have discovered what you regard as wanting in my method of treating the subject. I have endeavoured briefly to satisfy you, because the matter itself did not demand a long discourse. I shall know how far I have succeeded in this, when I have received your reply. I may at least on good grounds wish to obtain this of you, viz., that you will not allow yourself to become entangled in baseless suspicions. For I observe that, owing to this cause, you are perplexed in regard to many points which present difficulty, simply because you put upon the majority of my statements a different construction from what you have any ground for doing. A pre-conceived opinion regarding me leads you to imagine and attribute to me what never occurred to my mind. Besides, while you are concerned to maintain your own opinions, whatever they may be, to the very last, you sometimes consider more what is in harmony with them, than what is the truth on the subject. If simplicity pleases you, I certainly take no delight in disguise and circumlocution. If you love a free declaration of the truth, I never had any mind to bend what I wrote, so as to receive its acceptance with men. If there be any who have flattered Luther and others, I am not of that number. Our most excellent Musculus knows, that even when wise men were in fear, I was always free [from apprehensions]. But had it not been for the obstacle of an unprofitable distrust, there would by this time have been no controversy between us, or none to speak of. Although, however, I differ from you in opinion, that does not imply the least severance of affection; just as I cultivate the friendship of Bucer, and yet am free to dissent occasionally from his views. You are accordingly too severe in saying in your letter that the matter can only go well, provided you understand that you are not regarded as our enemies. On what grounds you form that surmise, I know not. This indeed I know, that I both think and speak of you in a friendly spirit. This, moreover, is known to very many who have heard me speak. It may indeed be that I have found fault with you in private letters to my friends, or that I have not concealed my conviction, that what they censured was deserving of reprehension. There was always, however, such an admixture of praise, as qualified any bitterness, and afforded proof of good intentions. Others may form what opinion they choose, but I shall never have to repent of lack of integrity on my part. If Master Blaurer[222]shall undertake Provence, which is offered to him, and Musculus accept the Professorship of Theology, I shall not only congratulate the Church of Berne, but hope that this will prove a bond of closer relationship between us. I beg you will inform me of your affairs, whenever an opportunity occurs. You would have had my Commentaries on the FiveEpistles of Paul before this time, had I not thought that they were for sale with you. As messengers rarely go and come between this and your quarter, I was afraid that the carriage would cost more than the purchase of them. I now send you the Commentaries on the Second Epistle to the Corinthians, and the four [Epistles] immediately following. I have yet published nothing on the Epistle to Titus, and the two Epistles to the Thessalonians. I also send my reply, which is highly approved of by Brentius, whose opinion I do not mention to you in the way of boasting, but that you may therefrom form a conjecture as to how much more moderate he is in his doctrine of the Sacraments than he formerly was. Adieu, most illustrious sir, and dearest brother in the Lord. May the Lord Jesus always guide you and your colleagues, all of whom you will salute respectfully in my name. Ours in turn desire best greetings to you, of whom Des Gallars presents for your acceptance a small treatise he has composed. The best greeting to Master Musculus, and other pious brethren.—Yours,
John Calvin.
[Lat. orig. autogr.—Archives of Zurich.Gest. VI. 166, p. 19.]
[February 1549.]
As truth is most precious, so all men confess it to be so. And yet, since God alone is the source of all good, you must not doubt, that whatever truth you anywhere meet with, proceedsfrom him, unless you would be doubly ungrateful to him; it is in this way you have received the word descended from heaven. For it is sinful to treat God's gifts with contempt; and to ascribe to man what is peculiarly God's is a still greater impiety. Philosophy is, consequently, the noble gift of God, and those learned men who have striven hard after it in all ages have been incited thereto by God himself, that they might enlighten the world in the knowledge of the truth. But there is a wide difference between the writings of these men and those truths which God, of his own pleasure, delivered to guilty men for their sanctification. In the former, you may fall in with a small particle of truth, of which you can get only a taste, sufficient to make you feel how pleasant and sweet it is; but in the latter, you may obtain in rich abundance that which can refresh the soul to the full. In the one, a shadow and an image is placed before the eyes which can only excite in you a love of the object, without admitting you to familiar intercourse with it; in the other, the solid substance stands before you, with which you may not only become intimately acquainted, but may also, in some measure, handle it. In that, the seed is in a manner choked; in this, you may possess the fruit in its very maturity. There, in short, only a few small sparks break forth, which so point out the path that they fail in the middle of the journey,—or rather, which fail in indicating the path at all,—and can only restrain the traveller from going farther astray; but here, the Spirit of God, like a most brilliant torch, or rather like the sun itself, shines in full splendour, not only to guide the course of your life, even to its final goal, but also to conduct you to a blessed immortality. Draw then from this source, wherever you may wander, and as soon as he finds you a settled abode, you ought to make that your place of rest....
[Calvin's Lat. Corresp.Opera, tom. ix. p. 50.]
Geneva,13th March 1549.
Seeing that we have, unsolicited, offered you a reading of our views on the sacraments, it seems desirable to furnish you, briefly, with some reason for our resolution in this matter; although, indeed, no lengthened introduction is needed in dealing with us in so just a cause. When your illustrious senate has publicly called upon you to deliberate, among other matters, regarding the peace of the Church, of which the peculiar bond is harmony in purity of doctrine, it is probable there will be some discussion regarding the sacraments, as that subject has for a long time occupied the attention of the Bernese Church. And while we are not required to make any exposition of our doctrine, we have, nevertheless, thought it our duty, even though unasked, to take part with you in bearing testimony on a matter in which we have all been completely unanimous. For since we both preach the same Christ, both profess the same gospel, are both members of the same church, and have both the same ministry, there ought not to be that diversity of authority among us to which we have been subject, either to break up the unity of our faith, or to hinder from flourishing amongst us so many rights of holy fellowship consecratedto the service of Christ. That proximity of residence, also, which is so influential among the children of this world, in drawing them into close friendship, ought not, at least, to be less powerful among us. We are, in reality, so commingled, that even the situation of the two places brings us, as it were, within a bond of mutual union. So far is this the case, that there is a federal union between the two cities. Some of our ministers, moreover, supply the churches of the Bernese district, just as certain of your body, again, have some of the churches of Geneva under their charge. It is, consequently, to a great extent, as much your interest as it is ours to become intimately acquainted with those doctrines to which we conform. At all events, in this way—passing by other considerations—many unfavourable suspicions will be counteracted, and malicious men will be deprived of a source of abuse. We confidently trust that our wishes will be agreeable, not only to yourselves, but also to your most illustrious senate. It only remains that you receive this communication calmly and with forbearance. And if you do so, as there is the highest hope you will, it will not be found to contain anything which you may not easily comprehend. Adieu, dearly beloved and estimable brethren and fellow-ministers; may the Lord Jesus long preserve, by his strength, the Bernese republic in a most prosperous condition. May he uphold the illustrious senate, under whose auspices ye have been assembled. May he direct and bless your assembly, and guide you by a spirit of wise zeal and uprightness to promote the advancement and edification of the Church.
Signed in the name of all your brethren and fellow-ministers of the Church of Geneva,
John Calvin.
Then follows an exposition of the sacraments, corrected by the hand of Calvin.
[Lat. Copy.—Archives of Zurich, Gest. VI. 105, p. 390.]
April 7, 1549.
Although the death of my wife has been exceedingly painful to me, yet I subdue my grief as well as I can. Friends, also, are earnest in their duty to me. It might be wished, indeed, that they could profit me and themselves more; yet one can scarcely say how much I am supported by their attentions. But you know well enough how tender, or rather soft, my mind is. Had not a powerful self-control, therefore, been vouchsafed to me, I could not have borne up so long. And truly mine is no common source of grief. I have been bereaved of the best companion of my life, of one who, had it been so ordered, would not only have been the willing sharer of my indigence, but even of my death. During her life she was the faithful helper of my ministry. From her I never experienced the slightest hindrance. She was never troublesome to me throughout the entire course of her illness; she was more anxious about her children than about herself.[226]As I feared these privatecares might annoy her to no purpose, I took occasion, on the third day before her death, to mention that I would not fail in discharging my duty to her children. Taking up the matter immediately, she said, "I have already committed them to God." When I said that that was not to prevent me from caring for them, she replied, "I know you will not neglect what you know has been committed to God." Lately, also, when a certain woman insisted that she should talk with me regarding these matters, I, for the first time, heard her give the following brief answer: "Assuredly the principal thing is that they live a pious and holy life. My husband is not to be urged to instruct them in religious knowledge and in the fear of God. If they be pious, I am sure he will gladly be a father to them; but if not, they do not deserve that I should ask for aught in their behalf." This nobleness of mind will weigh more with me than a hundred recommendations. Many thanks for your friendly consolation. Adieu, most excellent and honest brother. May the Lord Jesus watch over and direct yourself and your wife.[227]Present my best wishes to her and to the brethren.—Yours,
John Calvin.
[Calvin's Lat. Corresp.—Opera, tom. ix. p. 50.]
Geneva,11th April 1549.
Intelligence of my wife's death has perhaps reached you before now. I do what I can to keep myself from being overwhelmed with grief. My friends also leave nothing undone that may administer relief to my mental suffering. When your brother left, her life was all but despaired of. When thebrethren were assembled on Tuesday, they thought it best that we should join together in prayer. This was done. When Abel, in the name of the rest, exhorted her to faith and patience, she briefly (for she was now greatly worn) stated her frame of mind. I afterwards added an exhortation, which seemed to me appropriate to the occasion. And then, as she had made no allusion to her children, I, fearing that, restrained by modesty, she might be feeling an anxiety concerning them, which would cause her greater suffering than the disease itself, declared in the presence of the brethren, that I should henceforth care for them as if they were my own. She replied, "I have already committed them to the Lord." When I replied, that that was not to hinder me from doing my duty, she immediately answered, "If the Lord shall care for them, I know they will be commended to you." Her magnanimity was so great, that she seemed to have already left the world. About the sixth hour of the day, on which she yielded up her soul to the Lord, our brother Bourgouin[228]addressed some pious words to her, and while he was doing so, she spoke aloud, so that all saw that her heart was raised far above the world. For these were her words: "O glorious resurrection! O God of Abraham, and of all our fathers, in thee have the faithful trusted during so many past ages, and none of them have trusted in vain. I also will hope." These short sentences were rather ejaculated than distinctly spoken. This did not come from the suggestion of others, but from her own reflections, so that she made it obvious in few words what were her own meditations. I had to go out at six o'clock. Having been removed to another apartment after seven, she immediately began to decline. When she felt her voice suddenly failing her, she said: "Let us pray: let us pray. All pray for me." I had now returned. She was unable to speak, and her mind seemed to be troubled. I, having spoken a few words about the love of Christ, the hope of eternal life, concerning our married life, and her departure, engaged in prayer. In full possession of her mind, she both heard the prayer, and attended to it. Before eight she expired, so calmly, that those present could scarcely distinguish betweenher life and her death. I at present control my sorrow so that my duties may not be interfered with. But in the mean while the Lord has sent other trials upon me. Adieu, brother, and very excellent friend. May the Lord Jesus strengthen you by his Spirit; and may he support me also under this heavy affliction, which would certainly have overcome me, had not he, who raises up the prostrate, strengthens the weak, and refreshes the weary, stretched forth his hand from heaven to me. Salute all the brethren and your whole family.—Yours,
John Calvin.
[Calvin's Lat. Corresp.Opera, tom. ix. p. 50.]
This 29th of April 1549.
Madame,—Although the news which I communicate is sad, and must also sadden the person to whom I beg you to impart it, nevertheless I hope that my letter will not be unwelcome to you. It has pleased my God to withdraw from this world the wife of my kind brother, M. de Normandie.[230]Our consolation is, that he has gathered her unto himself; for he has guided her even to the last sigh, as if visibly he had held out the hand to her. Now, forasmuch as her father must needs be informed,[231]we have thought there was no waymore suitable than to request that you would please take the trouble to request him to call on you, that the painful intelligence may be broken to him by your communication of it. What the gentleman has written to us who lately presented our letter to you, has emboldened us to take this step, viz., that you had introduced the good man in question to the right way of salvation, and that you had given him understanding of the pure and sound doctrine which we must maintain. We do not doubt, therefore, that you are willing to continue your good offices, and that even in this present need. For we cannot employ ourselves better, than in carrying this message in the name of God, to comfort him to whom you have already done so much good, that he may not be beyond measure disconsolate. Therefore, Madame, I leave you to set before him the arguments and reasons which you know to be suitable for exhorting to submission. Only I shall shortly relate to you the history, which will furnish you with ample matter for showing him that he has reason to be thankful. And, according to the grace and wisdom that God has given you, you will draw thence for his comfort as opportunity shall require.
Having heard of the illness of the good woman, we were amazed how she could have been able to bear so well the fatigue of the journey, for she arrived quite fresh, and without showing any sign of weariness. Indeed she acknowledged that God had singularly supported her during that time. Weak as she was, she kept well enough until a little before Christmas. The eager desire which she had to hear the word of God, upheld her until the month of January. She then began to take to bed, not because the complaint was as yet thought to be mortal, but to prevent the danger which might arise. Although expecting a favourable termination, and hoping to recover her health, she nevertheless prepared for death, saying often, that if this was not the finishing blow, it could not be long delayed. As for remedies, all was done that could be. And if her bodily comfort was provided for, that which she prized most highly was nowise wanting, to wit, pious admonitions to confirm her in the fear of God, in the faith of Jesus Christ, in patience, in the hope of salvation. On her part shealways gave clear evidence that the labour was not in vain, for in her discourse you could see that she had the whole deeply imprinted upon her heart. In short, throughout the course of her sickness, she proved herself to be a true sheep of our Lord Jesus, letting herself be quietly led by the Great Shepherd. Two or three days before death, as her heart was more raised to God, she also spoke with more earnest affection than ever. Even the day before, while she was exhorting her people, she said to her attendant, that he must take good heed never to return thither where he had polluted himself with idolatry; and that since God had led him to a Christian Church, he should be careful to live therein a holy life. The night following, she was oppressed with great and continued pain. Yet never did one hear any other cry from her, than the prayer to God that he would have pity upon her, and that he would deliver her out of the world, vouchsafing grace to persevere always in the faith which he had bestowed. Toward five o'clock in the morning I went to her. After she had listened very patiently to the doctrine which I set before her, such as the occasion called for, she said: "The hour draws near, I must needs depart from the world; this flesh asks only to go away into corruption; but I feel certain that my God is withdrawing my soul into his kingdom. I know what a poor sinful woman I am, but my confidence is in his goodness, and in the death and passion of his Son. Therefore, I do not doubt of my salvation, since he has assured me of it. I go to him as to a Father." While she was thus discoursing, a considerable number of persons came in. I threw in from time to time some words, such as seemed suitable; and we also made supplication to God as the exigency of her need required. After once more declaring the sense she had of her sins, to ask the pardon of them from God, and the certainty which she entertained of her salvation, putting her sole confidence in Jesus, and having her whole trust in him,—without being invited by any one to do so, she began to pronounce the Miserere as we sing it in church, and continued with a loud and strong voice, not without great difficulty, but she entreated that we would allow her to continue. Whereupon,I made her a short recapitulation of the whole argument of the psalm, seeing the pleasure she took in it. Afterwards, taking me by the hand, she said to me, "How happy I am, and how am I beholden to God, for having brought me here to die! Had I been in that wretched prison, I could not have ventured to open my mouth to make confession of my Christianity. Here I have not only liberty to glorify God, but I have so many sound arguments to confirm me in my salvation." Sometimes, indeed, she said, "I am not able for more." When I answered her, "God is able to help you; he has, indeed, shown you how he is a present aid to his own;" she said immediately, "I do believe so, and he makes me feel his help." Her husband was there, striving to keep up in such sort that we were all sorry for him, while he made us wonder in amazement at his fortitude. For while possessed with such grief as I know it to have been, and weighed down by extremity of sorrow, he had so far gained the mastery over self, as to exhort his better part as freely as if they were going to make a most joyful journey together. The conversation I have related took place in the midst of the great torment she endured from pains in her stomach. Towards nine or ten o'clock they abated. Availing herself of this relaxation, she never ceased to glorify God, humbly seeking her salvation and all her wellbeing in Jesus Christ. When speech failed her, her countenance told how intently she was interested, as well in the prayers as in the exhortations which were made. Otherwise she was so motionless, that sight alone gave indication of life. Towards the end, considering that she was gone, I said, "Now let us pray God that he would give us grace to follow her." As I rose, she turned her eyes upon us, as if charging us to persevere in prayer and consolation; after that, we perceived no motion, and she passed away so gracefully, that it was as if she had fallen asleep.
I pray you, Madame, to excuse me if I have been too tedious. But I thought that the father would be well pleased to be fully informed of the whole, as if he himself had been upon the spot. And I hope that in so good a work you will find nothing troublesome. St. Paul, in treating of charity, does not forget that we ought to weep with those who weep; that is tosay, that if we are Christians, we ought to have such compassion and sorrow for our neighbours, that we should willingly take part in their tears, and thus comfort them. It cannot otherwise be but the good man must, at the first, be wrung with grief. Howbeit he must already have been long prepared to receive the news, considering that his daughter's sickness had increased so much, that her recovery was despaired of. But the great consolation is, the example which she has afforded to him and to all of us, of bowing to the will of God. And thus, seeing that she has presented herself so peaceably to death, let us herein follow her, willingly complying with the disposal of God; and if her father loved her, let him show his love in conforming himself to the desire which she exhibited of submitting herself to God. And seeing that her dismissal has been so happy, let him rejoice in the grace of God vouchsafed to her, which far surpasses all the comforts we can possess in this world.
In conclusion, Madame, having humbly commended me to your kind favour, I beseech our good Lord to be always your protector, to increase you with all spiritual blessing, and to cause you to glorify his name even to the end.
Your humble servitor and brother,
Charles d'Espeville.
[Fr. Copy.—Library of Geneva.Vol. 107.]
7th May 1549.
When Ferron was deposed he said you would write on his behalf. I have not received anything as yet. He behaved so insolently in our assembly that he very much resembled a man deprived of his reason.[232]The Lord will direct the matter according to his will; we have resolved on acting so moderately as to show him that he has to do with men and withservants of Christ. Cæsar the comedian annoys us in whatever way he can. Hitherto it has so turned out that he has gained nothing by it but the utmost disgrace. And yet, among his own party he gives himself all the airs of a victor.[233]Haller has at length explained what he would desiderate in our confession. This consists of a great many unimportant and trivial points. I shall reply to him as soon as I find opportunity. I did not send you the letter before it was read to the brethren. It is on this account that Hotman[234]has undertaken this journey to you; he will carry it more safely than otherwise. I do not think it proper, nor have I been disposed, to inquire more minutely into that situation to which he aspires, except that he has resolved to dedicate his work to the Lord and to the Church. I especially approve of this resolution. For he has strong native talent, is of extensive erudition, and is possessed of other valuable qualities. However, I know that you think so highly of him that there is no need of me recommending him. And, as you are of opinion that his work would be useful, I have no doubt that you would be sufficiently disposed of yourself to aid him. I was unwilling, however, to act so, that he might think me wanting in my duty to him. I shall only add, that he should understand there is nothing nearer our hearts than that he should devote his labour to the Church.
Adieu, brother and most sincere friend. May the Lord Jesus preserve yourself, your wife, and your little daughter, and send a blessing upon your sacred labours. Salute all respectfully in my name.—Yours,
John Calvin.
[Lat. orig. autogr.—Library of Geneva.Vol. 107.]
7th May 1549.
As time does not permit me to reply to your letter now, I am merely desirous of telling you that I have scarcely ever received anything more pleasant from you, as it served to alleviate a very trying domestic grief, which, occasioned by the death of my wife a little before, was causing me very much sorrow. For I am very glad that hardly anything—or at least very little—hinders us from agreeing now even in words. And, certainly if you think you can so arrange matters, I make no objection against endeavours being made to come hither, that you may the better become acquainted with all the sentiments of my mind. Nor shall it ever be owing to me that we do not unite in a solid peace, as we all unanimously profess the same Christ. But I have, at present, another reason for writing you.
You partly indicate what has kept you back from joining in the French alliance. I confess the godly have just cause of alarm in the example of Jehoshaphat, who bound himself in an unfortunate alliance with a wicked king, to his own ruin andthat of his kingdom. Yet I do not so understand it, that he was punished because he made a league with the King of Israel, but rather because he espoused a bad and impious cause, in order to gratify that king's desire. Ambition was inciting him to an unprovoked attack upon the Syrians; Jehoshaphat complied with his wishes and rashly took up arms. Add to this, that they went forth to battle, the Lord through Micaiah forbidding them. This example does not, therefore, so weigh with me that I should pronounce all alliance whatever with the wicked to be unlawful. For I reflect that Abraham was not hindered by any religious scruples from making a covenant with Abimelech. Isaac, David, and others did the same, and received neither reproof nor punishment. I can, however, so far conclude, that alliances of this nature are not to be sought after, seeing they must always be attended with very much danger. But if we be at all incited—I should rather say urged—to it by a just motive, I see no reason why we should be altogether averse to it.
Moreover, as regards the alliance in question, I cannot hold that it should be so avoided, from this cause, unless the present aspect of the times should compel me to adopt an opposite conclusion. You have to do with a professed enemy of Christ, and one who is daily venting his rage against our brethren. He is too little deserving of trust that could wish that both we and Christ were annihilated. It is absurd that we should enter into friendly alliance with one who is at war with all the servants of Christ without distinction; that we should seize, as that of an ally, a hand polluted with innocent blood. And, certainly, I should be unwilling to come to any conclusion on the matter, unless it were the express and distinct wish of the pious brethren. For his ferocity is indeed extraordinary. Besides, I am suspicious of the war with England. For I do not think it right to furnish any aid against a kingdom in which Christ is worshipped; and the very injustice of the cause, also, is another obstacle.
But, again, when I consider how our cause has been weakened, how great are the calamities which still impend, threatening almost the ruin of the Church, I fear much that ifwe neglect those aids which it is not unlawful to employ, we may fall into a state rather of excessive carelessness than of devout trustfulness. Nor, in truth, am I ignorant that God is especially present with us, and powerfully succours us when we are destitute of all human aid. I know, also, that there is nothing harder, when he reveals himself through some Egyptian shade, than to keep the eye from turning aside; for if they be not fixed on the one God, they rove wickedly and perniciously. We must, therefore, endeavour zealously to counteract these dangers. Meanwhile, however, we should be on our guard, lest if, in this our critical condition, we reject what, without offending God, could have aided us, we may afterwards feel, to our loss, that we were too careless. My first fear is, that our Pharaoh, shut out from all hope of contracting friendship with you, may betake himself to Antiochus. How much soever they may have weighty grounds of disagreement, this latter is a wonderful master at contriving pretexts; and those who at present hold sway at our court, would desire nothing more than to incline the mind of a youth, both inexperienced and not sufficiently sagacious, to accept of peace on any terms whatever. Certainly, if he has not already concluded it he will do so in a short time. Nor will there be wanting those who will urge him on. And I would there were none among us who would hold themselves and us as slaves to Antiochus, should an opportunity occur for doing so. He will, in truth, attempt every thing, the other not only approving of it, but also, in the mean time, assisting in it; because he will suppose that in this way he is avenging his repulse. In the mean while, cruelty will be kindled everywhere through the kingdom itself, for he will, as women are wont, direct his own rage to another,—a consideration, certainly, not to be accounted last by us of this place. If I wished to regard my own life or private concerns, I should immediately betake myself elsewhere. But when I consider how very important this corner is for the propagation of the kingdom of Christ, I have good reason to be anxious that it should be carefully watched over; and, in this respect, it is for your advantage, and quiet partly depends upon it. What man, imbued with wicked schemes, when he has been estranged fromyou, will not be moved by despair? But you think that we are wanting in men of discontented and revolutionary character, or in those suffering from want, who have, for a long period, extended their hands to him. However, as often as I reflect particularly upon our wretched brethren who lie crushed under that fearful tyranny, my mind becomes soft and more disposed to this [alliance], as it the more unquestionably appears beneficial for the alleviation of their sufferings. Why is the rage of the tyrant to be removed when he has seen that he is despised and scorned? Is it that thereby the wicked are to have the greater license for tormenting the innocent? Thus, if any alliance does intervene, not only will Pharaoh himself be, for the present, somewhat softened, and the executioners rendered less daring, but it will, indeed, be possible also to extinguish the flames.
I beseech and solemnly implore you then, my dear Bullinger, to ponder in time all these considerations; and if you come to any agreement, strive earnestly to have your brethren remembered whose condition is so wretched and awful. For although I know you have their welfare sufficiently at heart, and am certain that when the matter is raised, you will, of your own accord, be solicitous about it, yet I did not wish to neglect my duty. Indeed, such is his fierceness, that no fixed law can be laid down for you. I hope it is possible to show, however, that some sort of moderation may be exhibited.
Adieu, excellent man, and much esteemed brother in the Lord. Salute especially Theodore, Pellican, Gualter, Vuerduler, and the rest of the fellow-ministers. Present my respects to your colleagues, and to Des Gallars among the rest. I pray the Lord Jesus that he may continue to guide and sustain you by his Spirit; may he bless you and your labours. I have to thank you greatly for the volume of discourses which Haller sent in your name.—Yours,
John Calvin.
[Lat. orig. autogr.—Archives of Zurich.Gallic. Scripta, p. 11.]
This 10th of June 1549.
Madame and well-beloved Sister,—As we ought to be glad when the kingdom of the Son of God our Saviour is multiplied, and the good seed of his doctrine is everywhere spread abroad, I have been greatly rejoiced in perceiving from your letter that his grace and bounty has reached to you, to draw you on in the knowledge of his truth, wherein lies our salvation and every blessing. Indeed, it is a kind of miracle when he is pleased to make his glorious light shine in the place of such deep darkness; and this I say, that you and your associates may be the more induced to value the inestimable benefit which he has conferred on you. For if the lies of Satan wherewith he has blinded and bewitched the wretched world reign everywhere at present, they have their chief seat in those unhappy prisons which he has reared up, that he may keep souls in a twofold captivity. Acknowledge then that our good Lord has reached out a hand to you, even to the depths of the abyss, and that in so doing he has expressed an infinite compassion toward you. Wherefore it is your duty, as St. Peter has told us, to employ yourself in magnifying his holy name. For in calling us to himself, he sets us apart in order that our whole life may be to his honour, which it cannot be without our withdrawing ourselves from the pollutions of this world. And indeed there ought to be a difference between those who are enlightened by Christ Jesus, and the poor blinded ones who know not whither they are going. Therefore take heed that the knowledge which he has bestowed upon you be not unimproved, that you may not be reproached at the great day forhaving made void his grace. But because I am confident that you do so as much as lieth in you, I shall not dwell at greater length on that subject. It is quite certain that we cannot be too earnestly importuned on this very point. Besides, I believe that you will receive this exhortation as you ought, not thinking it superfluous, inasmuch as it may be of service to you against many assaults which Satan never ceases to make upon all the children of God. Now, while he has many ways in this world for seducing us out of the straight path, we on our parts are so pitiably frail, that we are immediately overcome. Wherefore we have much need to arm ourselves completely at every point. Moreover, being sensible of our infirmity, which makes us so often come short, we should supplement the exhortations which are made to us in the name of God, with prayer and supplication, that it would please our heavenly Father to strengthen us by his might, and to supply whatsoever is lacking. However it may be, let us never seek out excuses to flatter ourselves in our vices as the most part do, but let us be thoroughly convinced that God's honour deserves to be preferred to everything else, yea verily to life itself. And let us not think it strange, if for his name's sake we be chased from one place to another, and that we must forsake the place of our birth, to transport ourselves to some unknown place, for we must even be ready to depart from this world whensoever he shall call us away. I understand quite well, that in such bondage as you now are, you can not serve God purely without the rage and cruelty of the wicked rising up immediately against you, and without the fire perhaps being lighted. Such being the case, were it even necessary that you should compass sea and land, never grow weary in seeking the liberty to regulate yourself entirely according to the will of your kind heavenly Father. Howbeit, you must remember, that wherever we may go, the cross of Jesus Christ will follow us, even in the place where you may enjoy your ease and comforts. Lay your account with it, that even in the country where you have liberty, as well to honour God as to be confirmed by his word, that you will have to endure many annoyances. For this is the very way whereby God would make trial of our faith, and know whether,in seeking after him, we have been renouncing self. It is right that you be informed of this beforehand, so that it may not be new to you when the experience of it comes, though I doubt not that you and your associates are already prepared for it. But the chief thing is to pray God that he would lead you, as well to guide you as to uphold by his strong arm, in order that as he has begun a good work in you, he would continue it until he has brought you on to that perfection, after which we must aspire until we are gone forth out of this world. And to confirm you in this respect, recall to mind continually what an unhappiness it is to be in perpetual disquietude and trouble of conscience. In this condition of mind, you will naturally abhor the wretched state in which you are, and count but dung all those delights and all those comforts which you must purchase at so sad a price as that of daily offending God. When you consider that our life is accursed, and, of course, worse than any kind of death, if our state be not approved of God, no bands of any earthly comforts will be so strong that you will not easily rend them asunder, so as entirely to escape from a kind of life which God condemns, especially to live in a place where not only you may be free to follow a holy and Christian calling, but where you will likewise have the means of exercising yourself daily in sound doctrine, of which we are so clearly enjoined to avail ourselves. Such a recompense of reward may well stifle all regret of the flesh-pots and pleasures of Egypt, and encourage us rather to follow God in the wilderness than to befool ourselves in the practice of those lusts which our flesh desires and longs for.
Meanwhile, Madame and good sister, having affectionately commended me to your kind favour, and that of your companions, I pray our good Lord more and more to increase his spiritual blessings upon you, to keep you wholly in his obedience, and to have you under his protection and defence against all the ambushes of Satan and those who belong to him.
Your humble servant and brother,
Charles D'Espeville.
[Fr. Copy, Library of Geneva.Vol. 107.]
June 1549.
Although your letter was mixed with joy and sorrow, yet it was extremely pleasant to me. Would that I were able in some measure to lighten the sufferings of your heart, and those cares by which I see you are tortured! We all beseech you, again and again, not to keep afflicting yourself to no purpose. Yet it is neither proper in itself, nor is it in keeping with your piety, nor should we desire to see it, that amid such various and manifold causes for grief, you should be joyous and cheerful. You should make it your study, however, to serve the Lord and the Church as far as you have opportunity. You have indeed run a long race, but you know not how much may be still before you. It may be that I, who have just commenced the race, am at present nearer to the goal. But the direction and the termination of your course are alike in the hand of the Lord. I am a daily witness to many deaths, in order that I may be made as active as possible amid the dangers which threaten us from many quarters. Just as wars keep you busy where you are, so we here give way to sluggish fears. I trust, however, that the internal tumults are already calmed; and there is a report of a cessation of hostilities between you and theFrench.[238]Would that a plan of stable peace could be agreed upon: for we see that trainer of gladiators, who is bringing these two kingdoms into conflict, in the meantime laughing at his ease, and ready to seize any turn of fortune, in order that he may attack the victor with fresh forces, and gather the spoils of the vanquished without sweat and blood, and thus triumph over and carry off the booty from both.[239]But when I reflect on the wicked counsels by which France is ruled, I almost despair of this matter. Indeed, they fear him more than enough; but, by haughtily despising others, they do not guard themselves against his craft. And indeed the Lord is by this blindness justly avenging, as I take it, their atrocious cruelty to his saints, which is daily increasing. Just as their wickedness is gathering strength, and is continually becoming worse, so I pray that the English may, with a contrary emulation, make a stand for the genuine purity of Christianity, until everything in that country is seen to be regulated according to the rule which Christ himself has laid down. As you wished, and as the present state of things urgently demanded, I have attempted to encourage the Lord Protector; and it will be your duty to insist by all means, if you get a hearing—and of that I am persuaded—that those rites which savour of superstition be entirely removed. I particularly commend this to you, that you thereby may free yourself of a charge which many, as you know, falsely bring against you; for they always regard you as either the author or approver of half measures. I know that this suspicion is fixed too deeply in the minds of some to be easily rooted out, even if you do your best. And some have been led to calumniate you spitefully for no error whatever. This is accordingly damaging to you, in some measure fatal, as you can with difficulty escape from it. However, you must be on your guard, lest occasion of suspicion beafforded the ignorant: the wicked eagerly snatch at any pretext for abuse. I am exceedingly sorry that N.[240]is annoying you without cause. Would that he would learn humanity some time! I am the more ready to pardon him, as he seems to me to be so moved by malice, as to be driven by a blind impulse. You cannot credit how bitterly he has wounded us at times; alike the innocent, the absent, and the friendly. When Viret was well nigh overcome by the very great injustice of some, and by the perfidiousness of others, he was as violently attacked by this individual, as if he had been the most infamous traitor to the Church. He would certainly accustom himself to mildness if he knew what hurt is done by the intemperateness of his too fervid zeal and immoderate severity. You must endure with your accustomed forbearance this and other indignities offered to you. The people of Zurich, certainly, did not approve of his cause. I differ from you somewhat in this matter; in that, you think injury will be done to the opposite party. For while you think that they would never labour under such gross hallucinations as to imagine that Christ was diffused everywhere, you do not hold what Brentius, among others, has written, that when Christ was lying in the manger he was, even as to his body, full of glory in heaven. And to speak more plainly, you know that the Popish doctrine is more moderate and sober than that of Amsdorf,[241]and those resembling him, who have raved as if they were the priestesses of Apollo. You know how cruelly Master Philip has been annoyed, because he observed a certain degree of moderation. In their madness they even drew idolatry after them. For what else is the adorable sacrament of Luther but an idol set up in the temple of God? I desired, however, to see all these things buried. Indeed I have done my utmost among our neighbours to keep them from railing; yet as it afforded them satisfaction, I did not hesitate, the names being suppressed, to condemnall the errors to which I was expressly opposed. You certainly seem to me to enter with too much subtlety into the discussion about place. Others are more seriously offended by your obscurity, which they think you have studied craftily to employ. I know indeed that in this they are wrong. But I do not see why you should shrink so much from what we teach; that when Christ is said to have ascended into heaven, there is affirmed by this expression a diversity of places. For it is not disputed here whether there is place in celestial glory, but only whether the body of Christ is in the world. As the Scriptures have borne clear testimony on that point, I have no hesitation in embracing it as an article of faith. And yet, as you will find from our document,[242]this was yielded to the fretfulness of some, not without a struggle: for I had framed the words differently. Nothing was comprised in this formula which we employed, except what I perceived it would be scrupulousness not to concede to others. You wish piously and wisely, to explain more clearly and fully the effect of the Sacrament, and what the Lord bestows through it. Nor indeed was it owing to me that they were not fuller on some points. Let us bear therefore with a sigh what we cannot correct. You will find here a copy of the document which they sent me. The two paragraphs which you feared they would not admit, were readily adopted. Had the rest imitated the calmness of Bullinger, I should have obtained all more easily. It is well, however, that we have agreed about the truth, and that we are at one in the most important sense. It would be exceedingly appropriate for you to modify these two theses somewhat, in order to bring out more clearly that you place Christ apart from us who are in the world, by a diversity of place; in the second place, that you might discard the more obviously all those false inventions by which the minds of men have been led to superstition; and above all, that you might vindicate the glory of the Holy Spirit and of Christ, lest aught should be attributed to the ministers or to the elements. At the commencement of our deliberations, agreement seemed really hopeless. Light suddenly brokeforth. Our forefathers wished to deliberate with other Churches. We agreed without difficulty. N.'s dissension must be borne with equanimity. Farel, as you will see, writes you at great length. Viret dare not, for you cannot believe how unjustly he is treated. He salutes you as dutifully as he can, and wishes you to excuse him. All my colleagues, also, salute you respectfully. There is nothing new here except that Zurich and Berne have cut off all hopes of an alliance with France.[243]Adieu, very illustrious sir, and father in the Lord, truly worthy of my regard.
John Calvin.
[Calvin's Lat. Corresp.Opera, tom. ix. p. 49.]