CALVIN'S LETTERS.

Noyon,14th May 1528.

As I do not think that you have hitherto been correctly informed of the motives and peculiar circumstances which have brought my punctuality in question, you must at least be willing to admit, that until now you have known me to be a person rather overmuch attentive, not to say troublesome, in the frequency of my correspondence. Nor has my fidelity been so sorely endangered as to leave me altogether inexcusable. For after calm consideration, I came to this conclusion in my own mind, that all the esteem you had conceived for me,during a long acquaintance and daily intercourse, could not vanish in a single moment; and that a certain kindly courtesy, as well as shrewdness, is so much your nature, that nothing is wont unadvisedly to prejudge you. This consideration makes me feel confident that I may be restored to favour, if any has been lost. Receive now, I pray you, in few words, the cause of this delay. The promise made at my departure, that I would return in a short time, while it was my wish to fulfil it, kept me all the longer in a state of suspense. For when I was seriously intending to return to you, my father's illness[14]occasioned the delay. But afterward, when the physicians gave some hope of his restoration to good health, I then thought of nought else than the anxious desire to rejoin you, to which I had previously been very strongly inclined, but which was much increased after an interval of some days. Meanwhile, my onwaiting in this duty has been prolonged, until at length there remains no hope of recovery, and the approach of death is certain.[15]Whatsoever happens, I shall see you again.

Remember me to Francis Daniel; to Philip,[16]and your entire household. Have you given in your name yet among the professors of literature? See that your modesty does not enforce indolence upon you.—Adieu, dear Duchemin, my friend dearer to me than my life.

[Lat. copy—Library of Berne. Vol. 450.]

Paris,27th June 1529.

Tired with the journey, the day after our drive hither we could not stir a foot out of doors. For the next four days, while I still felt unable to move about, the whole of that time wore away in friendly salutations. On the Lord's day, I repaired to the monastery with Cop,[18]who had consented to accompany me, that according to your advice, I might fix a day with the nuns on which your sister should take the vows. I was told, in reply to my inquiry, that, along with some others of her own rank, she had obtained from the sisterhood, in conformity with approved usage, (ex solemni more,) the power of taking upon herself the vows. The daughter of a certain banker of Orleans, who is master of arts to your brother, is of the number. While Cop was in the meanwhile engaged in conversation with the abbess, I sounded the inclination of your sister, whether she would take that yoke patiently,—whether she was not rather wearied and drilled into submission, than submitting her neck willingly to the harness. I urged her again and again freely to entrust me with whatever she might have upon her mind. Never have I seen any one more prompt or readier in reply, so that it could not come soon enough to satisfy her wishes. You would almost think she was playing with her doll as oft as she heard speak of the vow. I did not wish to withdraw her from her purpose, because I had not come withthat object. But, in few words, I admonished her not to rely too much on her own resolutions, that she ought not to make rash promises as to herself, but rather that she would rest upon the strength of God for all needed help,—in whom we live and have our being.

While we were thus engaged in conversation, the abbess gave me an opportunity of speaking with her, and when I proposed that she would fix a day, she left the choice to myself, but on condition that Pylades[19]should be present, who will be at Orleans within eight days. So, as the day could not be fixed more certainly, we left it to Pylades to decide. Do you, therefore, settle with him as shall seem convenient, since I can be of no further service to you here.

Concerning my own affairs;—as yet I have not fixed upon a lodging, although there were many to be had if I had wished to hire, and also offered by friends, had I been willing to take advantage of the use of them. The father of our friend Coiffart offered his own house to me, with that kindness that you would have said there was nothing he desired rather than that I should take up my abode with his son. Coiffart himself, also, with many entreaties, and those not any way cold or distant, insisted often that he might have me for companion and comrade; nothing would I have rather embraced with outstretched arms than this invitation on the part of my friend, whose acquaintance how pleasing and profitable it is to me, yourself can testify, and which I would immediately have accepted had I not intended this year to attend Danès,[20]whose school is situated at a great distance from Coiffart's house. All friends who are here desire to be remembered to you, especially Coiffart and Viermey, with whom I am about to ride out on horseback. Greet your mother, your wife, and your sister Francisca. Adieu. I have begun a letter to the canon, which I shall finish on my return. If any inconvenience is occasioned by the delay I will make up for it.

[Lat. copy—Library of Berne.Vol. 450.]

Meaux,6th September 1529.

I owe you thanks for having omitted no diligence in the care of our affairs, which I will not allow to pass unrequited when occasion shall offer. For I think it will so happen that at least I may be able to return a favour of the like kind, nor even then shall my name be expunged from your day-book; what is more, there is scarcely a single page that does not state me as your debtor. But if you think me worth the money, I make myself over to you in payment, with the usual legal proviso, that whatever is mine may also go along with the purchase. You must understand, moreover, that was the loophole opened to our barefaced solicitation, while you gave ready and seasonable aid, so that we can scarcely be in future anything but shameless suitors, unmindful whether we are solvent or no, for you do not confer benefits that you may make gain of them, but bestow your favours freely. In the meantime, however, I will take care that the inner chamber be well supplied with wine, if I see that it will be to our advantage, that you may not suppose anything to be rashly undertaken. Perhaps, in an indirect way, I appear to ask money, but do not you interpret me unkindly or twit me indirectly, unless, as you are wont, it is good humouredly in jest. You have done manfully in behaving with so much firmness towards that indolent Mæcenas; since he cannot now-a-days suit his manners to us, let him be your claw-back, and, puffed up and pompous, leave him to nurse his ambition. I envy Fusius the astrologer. Your road-book I return, which, with Lampridius, we may call the itinerary, and in the Greek ὁδοιπορικὴn. I do not add thanks, because words cannot do justice to its merit. Will you remember me to Melchior[21]if he is yet with you, to Sucquet and Pigney, alsoto our friend Curterius? Will you say to Sucquet, that I have occasion to use the Homer's Odyssey which I had lent him? and when you have got it, keep possession, unless indeed Ronsart who used to bring you my letters, to whom I had entrusted the business, has been beforehand.—Adieu, dear friend, my none-such.

[Lat. copy—Library of Berne.Vol. 450.]

From the Acropolis,[22]15th January 1530.

It was not in my power to reply sooner to your brother Robert's letter, because it was only delivered to me about the middle of November, and shortly after I had to undertake a journey of a fortnight. The illness of the messenger, who had been laid up for about twelve days with a dangerous complaint at Lyons, hindered the letter from reaching me sooner. Meanwhile the fair-time had gone by; which season having past, I had no opportunity of despatching a letter. With reference to your brother, the matter stands thus:—I have endeavoured, in every manner of way, to induce him to remain with us. When I ascertained that he had rashly and without any sufficient reason given up this, or resolved against it, I thought I ought to persuade him to betake himself homewards; and as he had sometimes said that any attempt of this sort would be in vain, I thought it better, for the time, to give way, until that warmth had in some degree subsided. As seemed to me, he had come somewhat to himself, when all of a sudden, while such a step never entered my thoughts, he decamped into Italy. I was expecting him and his companion at dinner, because that time had been appointed for touching on the subject. They did not make their appearance. When during the whole daythey were not forthcoming, I began to suspect I know not what. On sending to the inn, word was brought back that he had already gone away. Peter,[23]whom you have known, who had accompanied them a mile or rather more, returned home about four o'clock. Wherefore, if anything has happened contrary to your wish and that of your relatives, you must not blame me, who have done my utmost that he might not withdraw to a greater distance from you, contrary to your wishes. Adieu; remember me to all. May the Lord preserve you all, especially your family.

Will you take charge of the delivery of the letter to my sister Mary Du Marais?

[Lat. copy—Library of Berne.Vol. 450.]

Paris,23d May 1532.

Well, at length the die is cast. My Commentaries on the Books of Seneca, "De Clementia,"[24]have been printed, but at my own expense, and have drawn from me more money than you can well suppose. At present, I am using every endeavour to collect some of it back. I have stirred up some of the professors of this city to make use of them in lecturing. In the University of Bourges I have induced a friend to do this from the pulpit by a public lecture. You can also help me not a little, if you will not take it amiss; you will do so on the score of our old friendship; especially as, without any damage to your reputation, you may do me this service, which will also tend perhaps to the public good. Should you determine tooblige me by this benefit, I will send you a hundred copies, or as many as you please. Meanwhile, accept this copy for yourself, while you are not to suppose that by your acceptance of it, I hold you engaged to do what I ask. It is my wish that all may be free and unconstrained between us. Adieu, and let me soon hear from you. I wrote lately to Pigney, but he has not answered. To Brosse I wrote long ago, but to this time have no reply. He who will give Le Roy his copy will dutifully salute him.

[Lat. copy—Library of Berne.Vol. 450.]

Paris, [1532.]

Both of your letters have reached me almost on the same subject, and nearly in the same words. I have attended to your commission about the Bibles, in procuring which there was more need of taking some trouble than of money. When I pack up my things I will put them along with my baggage. The affair is of that kind which I suppose may be deferred until that time. As for the rest, you must help me in your turn.

The Books of Seneca on Clemency are at last printed: they are at my own cost and labour. The money which has been expended must now be collected on all hands. Besides, I must look to it, that my credit stands secure. Do write as soon as you can, and let me know with what favour or coldness they have been received, and try also to induce Landrin to lecture. I send one copy for yourself; will you take charge of the other five, to be forwarded to Bourges for Le Roy, Pigney, Sucquet, Brosse, Baratier? If Sucquet can accept of it for the purpose of lecturing, his help will be of no small service to me. Adieu.

I have nothing to write to Duchemin, seeing that often as I have asked he returns no answer, nor shall I set out upon my journey until he write. What will it matter, if for some days Ishiver in the cold while in search of a lodging for the body! Concerning Coiffart what else can I say, except that he is a selfish fellow?—Again, adieu.

Remember me to your mother and your aunt.

[Lat. copy—Library of Berne. Vol. 450.]

Noyon,4th September 1532.

The grace and peace of the Lord be with you by the mercy of God and the victory of Christ.

Leisure to write would not have weighed as an argument to persuade me, any more than good advice, unless it had seemed right to deplore in a few words the unhappy lot of this excellent brother, which some friends of undoubted faith and credit have represented to me by letter. For whether you bear with me in my grief and sympathy, or whether I further him in his suit, I could not refrain from writing. The disposition and manners of the man I had known while he lived with us in France. He so conducted himself as to be beloved among the men of our profession, if any one was. Esteemed as such amongmen who were endowed with some degree of authority, and so as to be neither a shame nor a disgrace to them. At length, when he could no longer bow the neck to that voluntary bondage which even yet we bear, he departed to take up his residence with you, having no prospect of return. But, as the matter stands, it fell out, contrary to his expectation, like the shifting scene of a play, and he could find no settled abode whither he might betake himself. Thither, also, as I hear, he had hastened on account of his straitened means and household matters, that he might have the benefit of the assistance of friends whom himself had formerly assisted, until better times should come. Now, observe how far more powerful is calumny than truth. Some inconsiderate person, I know not who, among your people, whom I certainly do not presume to suspect of malevolence, had so prepossessed the ears of every one with his invectives, that they were shut to all explanation. There was, therefore, not a single person from whom he could extract a penny. Probably it was not intended by the person, whoever he was, who kindled the sparks of this tragedy, to destroy the character of a harmless individual. Nevertheless, however that may be, I can neither excuse him nor apologize to him, and do not hesitate to assert that he has been in error, to the great hardship and calamity of this individual. They cast upon him these reproaches, as is said, because he had fallen under suspicion of Anabaptism. Strange, indeed, unless the person was outrageously suspicious who spun out this conjecture from so slender evidence. In conversation I drew him intentionally to speak of this sacrament. He agreed in express terms so entirely with myself, that never have I met with any one who professed the truth upon this point more frankly. Meanwhile he suffers notwithstanding, nor does there appear any probability that these sinister rumours, which have already obtained a certain degree of credit, will soon be suppressed. I intreat of you, Master Bucer, if my prayers—if my tears, are of any avail, that you would compassionate and help him in his wretchedness. The poor are left in a special manner to your care—you are the helper of the orphan. Suffer him not to be reduced to such necessity as to be driven to extremity. You can help him, ifyou choose, in some one way or other, but rather do so yourself, according to your own discretion. I could not, however, hold my hand from going even beyond the bounds of ordinary restraint in supporting the cause of this individual. These for the present.—Most learned sir, farewell. Thine from my heart,

Calvin.

[Lat. orig. autogr.—Protestant Seminary of Strasbourg.]

[Paris, 1533.]

I send you these collectanea of late events, on this condition, that, according to the best of your faith and duty, they may circulate among the friends, whom also you will respectfully salute for me, except Framberg, whom I have resolved to tame by my silence, seeing that I have not been able to coax him by gentleness, nor to get anything out of him by scolding. Besides, what is worse than all, when his brother came hither, he did not even send me a single greeting by him. I wish you would take charge of Michael's law suit, if by any means it can be brought to bear; but there is need of despatch. For whom, if you do all that is in your power, I shall have to thank you the same as if you had done the favour to myself. You will do the office of interpreter to the sisters, that you may not enjoy your laugh alone. I send you another Epitome of our Gymnasium, to which I had resolved to add as an appendix what had been broken off from those former Commentaries, if time had allowed.

Adieu, my brother and most trusty friend, your brother,

Calvin.

I need not say that these are troublous times; they speak for themselves. Beware of incautiously communicating the Epitome.

[Lat. orig. autogr.—Library of Berne.Vol. 141, p. 43.]

Paris, [October] 1533.

Although I have beside me a forest of materials which furnish most satisfactory evidence of what is written, yet I will restrain my pen, that you may have rather the leading features than a long narrative; to which were I to give way, it would grow almost into a goodly volume. On the first of October, at which time of the year the boys who pass out of the grammar class into that of the dialectics, are wont, for the sake of practice, to act a play, they performed one in the Navarre Gymnasium, which was unusually pungent with the sprinkling of gall and vinegar. The persons brought upon the stage are—a Queen,[28]who, in womanly fashion, was taken up with spinning, and wholly occupied with the distaff and the needle; then thefury Megæra[29]appeared, bringing lighted torches near to her, that she might throw away the rock and the needle. For a little while she opposed and struggled; but when she had yielded, she received the gospel into her hand, and straightway forgets all she had formerly grown into the habit of, and almost even herself. Last of all, she becomes tyrannical, and persecutes the innocent and unfortunate by every method of cruelty. Many other devices were introduced in the same style, most unworthily indeed against that excellent woman, whom, neither indirectly nor obscurely, they tauntingly revile with their reproaches. For a few days the affair was suppressed. Afterwards, however, as Truth is the daughter of Time, the whole matter being reported to the Queen, it seemed to her that it would set a very bad example and encouragement to their wantonness, who are always gaping after something new, if this impertinence were allowed to pass unpunished. The prefect of police, with a hundred officers, proceeded to the Gymnasium, and by his orders, surrounded the building, that no one might slip out. He then entered with some few of his men, but did not succeed in finding the author of the drama. They say, that he had little expected such a proceeding, and had made no provision in the event of it; but that, being by accident in a friend's room, he heard the noise before they could get sight of him, and so hid himself away until an opportunity of escape presented. The prefect in command of the police captured the boyish performers; the master of the Gymnasium, meanwhile, resisted this proceeding; in the midst of their wranglings, stones were thrown by some of the boys. The prefect, nevertheless, keeps hold of his prisoners, and forced them to explain what parts they had acted in the scene. When the author of the mischief could not be apprehended, the next thing wasto inquire after those who, when they could have hindered, had permitted the performance, and had so long concealed the whole affair. One who is distinguished above the rest in authority and name, (for he is the great master Lauret,[30]) sought that he might be imprisoned more respectably in the house of one of the Commissaries, (as they call them.) Another of them, Morinus, the second after him, was ordered to keep at home. Meanwhile, the inquiry goes forward. What has been discovered I know not: he is now summoned to appear on a citation of three short days, as they now phrase it. So much for the Comedies. Certain factious theologues have perpetrated another exploit equally malignant, and perhaps almost as audacious. When they searched the shops of the booksellers, among the books which they brought away, they seized the book which is calledLe Miroir de l'Ame Pécheresse,[31]the reading of which they wish to prohibit. When the Queen was informed of it, she called on the King her brother, and told him she had written the book. By letters addressed to the masters of the Paris Academy he required them to certify to himself whether they had examined the book, and whether they had classed it among those of unsound religion; that if they considered it such that they would give him the reason of their opinion. Referring to the whole procedure, Nicolas Cop, the physician, at present the rector, stated the affair to the four colleges of arts, of medicine, of philosophy, of theology, and of the canon law. Among the masters of arts whom he first addressed, he inveighed in a long and bitter oration against the doctors, because of their rash and arrogant behaviour towards her majesty the queen. He advised them not to interfere in any way in a matter of so much danger, if they did not wish to incur the displeasure of the king, nor to array themselvesagainst the queen, that mother of all the virtues and of all good learning. Lastly, that they ought not to take the blame of this offence upon themselves, lest they should encourage the presumption of those who were always ready to enter upon anything under cover of the pretext that it was the deed of the academy to which they had committed them, without the academy being at all aware of it. It was the opinion of them all that the act ought to be disavowed. The theologians, canonists, and physicians, were of the same mind. The rector reported the decree of his order; next, the dean of the faculty of medicine; third, the doctor of canon law; fourth, the faculty of theology. Le Clerc, the parish priest of St. Andrew, had the last word, on whom the whole mischief was laid, others retiring from him out of sight. First of all he praised, in lofty expression, the uprightness of the king, the undaunted firmness with which hitherto he has conducted himself as a protector of the faith. That there were some busy-bodies who endeavoured to pervert this excellent person, who also were in league together for the destruction of the sacred faculty; that he, however, entertained the confident expectation that they would not succeed in their wishes, and that, in opposition to such firmness as he knew the king to possess. That as regarded the matter in hand, he was indeed appointed by the decree of the academy to that office; that nothing, however, was less intended by him than to attempt anything against the queen, a woman so adorned by godly conversation as well as by pure religion, in proof of which he adduced the reverence with which she had observed the funeral rites in memory of her deceased mother;[32]that he held as forbidden books, both those obscene productions,—Pantagrueland theForest of Loves, and others of the same mint; that, in the meantime, he had put aside the book in question as liable to suspicion, because it was published without the approval of the faculty, in fraud and contravention of the arrêt, whereby it was prohibited to put forth anythingconcerning the faith without the advice and approbation of the faculty; that, in a word, this was his defence, that what was called in question had been done under warrant and commission of the faculty; that all were partakers in the offence, if there was any, although they might point blank deny it. And all this was spoken in French, that all might understand whether he spake the truth; they all cried out, however, that he pleaded this pretended ignorance by way of excuse. There were present also the Bishop of Senlis, L'Etoile, and one of the prefects of the palace. When Le Clerc had made an end of speaking, Parvi[33]said, that he had read the book,—that he had found nothing requiring expurgation unless he had forgot his theology. Finally, he required that they would give out a decree by which they might satisfy the king. Cop, the rector, announced that the academy did not acknowledge that censure as it stood; that they did not approve nor homologate the censure by which the book in question was classed among the prohibited or suspected books; that those who had done so must look to it, on what ground they were to defend the proceeding; that letters would be prepared in due time, whereby the academy might excuse itself to the king, and also return thanks for that he had so kindly addressed them in a fatherly way. The royal diploma was produced, by which permission is granted to the Bishop of Paris to appoint what preachers he pleases to the different parishes, where formerly they were chosen at the will of the parishioners; the chief influence being enjoyed by those who were most obstreperous and possessed by a senseless furor, which they consider zeal, such as never fired Elias, with which, however, he was zealous over the house of God.—Farewell.

[Lat. orig. autogr.—Library of Berne. Vol. 141.]

Doxopolis, [1534.]

Without having anything particular to write I can at any time play the gossip with you, and so fill up a letter. Yet why should I intrude upon you with my complainings? The chief matter which, in my opinion, is of sufficient interest to be communicated to you at present is that I am getting on well, and taking into account the constitutional weakness and infirmity which you are well aware of, am also making some progress in study. Certainly, also, the kindness of my patron may well quicken the inactivity of the most indolent individual, for it is such that I clearly understand that it is given for the sake of letters. So that I must all the more endeavour and earnestly strive that I be not utterly overwhelmed under the pressure of so much generous kindness, which somehow constrains me to exertion. Although, indeed, were I to strain every nerve to the utmost I could never make any adequate, or even inadequate return, so great is the amount of obligation which I would have to encounter. This inducement, therefore, must keep me continually mindful to cultivate those common pursuits of study for the sake of which so great a value is put upon me. If permitted to enjoy in repose such as this—the interval, whether I am to consider it of my exile or of my retirement, I shall conclude that I have been very favourably dealt by. But the Lord,by whose Providence all is foreseen, will look to these things. I have learned from experience that we cannot seevery far before us. When I promised myself an easy tranquil life, then what I least expected was at hand; and, on the contrary, when it appeared to me that my situation might not be an agreeable one, a quiet nest was built for me, beyond my expectation, and this is the doing of the Lord, to whom, when we commit ourselves, Himself will have a care for us. But I have already almost filled my page, partly with writing, partly with blotting.—Adieu, greet whom you will.

[Lat. copy—Library of Berne. Vol. 450.]

Basle,11th September, [1534.[36]]

When our friend Olivetan[37]had intimated, by the letters which he wrote about the time of his departure, that he had put off his intended publication of the New Testament to another time, it appeared to me that I might make the revision which had been promised at my leisure, and reserve it to another time. Meanwhile other studies engaged my attention, and I thought no more of the matter, or rather sank down into my wonted languor. As yet, I have scarcely got my hand to work upon it, and besides, the volume which I sent will be necessary in thecollation, and yet, though it was brought three months ago, it has not yet been put together. This has not occurred through any indifference on my part, but partly by the slowness of the binder, whom, nevertheless, we have not ceased to call upon daily, partly also because when it was brought to me at first we required a supply of paper to the extent of six sheets, which could not be had immediately. Henceforward, however, I shall set apart an hour every day to be bestowed on this work. And should I throw together any remarks, I will not deposit them with any other person than yourself, unless Olivetan on his return shall anticipate you. Further, word has been brought me by some one, I know not whom, at your request, that you did not entirely approve of some things in my treatise on the Immortality of Souls.[38]So far from being offended because of your opinion, I am greatly delighted with this straightforward plainness. Nor does my perversity reach to such a degree as to allow myself in a freedom of opinion, which I would wish to take away from others. That I may not, however, vex or annoy you unnecessarily, by fighting the same battle over and over again, I wish you to understand that the book has been recast by me. Some things have been added, others left out, but altogether in a different form and method. Although some few things have been omitted, I have inserted others, and some things I have altered. As for that essay which I had given Olivetan to read, it contained my first thoughts, rather thrown together in the shape of memoranda or common places, than digested after any definite and certain method, although there was some appearance of order. That new book (for so it must be called) I would have sent you, had it been read over again by me. But since it was written out by Gaspar, I have not looked into it. Farewell; may the Lord have you in his keeping, and enrich you always with his own gifts.—Yours,

Martianus Lucanius.[39]

Some how or other it has so happened that in the hurry of writing I omitted what by no means I had intended. It was to exhort you and the other brethren in a few words, but most heartily, to the cultivation of peace, for the preservation of which you ought all of you to strive the more earnestly as Satan watches intently for its overthrow. You can scarce believe how much I was shocked at hearing of that new uproar about the lepers, set agoing by him of whom I would never have suspected such a thing. But at length he vomited out the poison with which he was sweltering from long dissimulation, and having fixed the sting, like a viper fled away. Be not wanting, on your part, I entreat you, so far as lies in you, which, indeed, I was confident would be the case of your own accord, but I was willing at the same time to interpose my prayer for peace.

[Lat. orig. autogr.—Library of the Company of Neuchatel.]

Lausanne,13th October 1536.

That you may not, according to old use and wont, lay a long and clamorous accusation against my indolence, seeing that whole three months have passed away during which you have received not a single letter from me, accept now a brief statement as to the state of matters upon the whole. For some days

I was detained at Geneva by the brethren, until they extracted from me a promise to return; then after that, I brought back my relative Artois[41]to Basle, and gave offence to several churches in the course of my journey, by whom I was requested to stay with them for a little while. In the meantime, the August fair was over, which was the most favourable opportunity for the conveyance of letters. Furthermore, as soon as I got back to Geneva, a violent cold attacked me, which afterward settled upon the upper gum, so that there was scarce any relief even after nine days, and after having been twice bled, with a double dose of pills and several fomentations. Nor is it yet completely shaken off. During that lost opportunity, although there was abundant leisure for writing, and the way or channel of correspondence was not entirely closed, yet I was kept continually occupied upon the French version of my little book;[42]and the almost certain expectation began then to arise, that the letters might reach you enriched by that acquisition, rather than that they should come empty handed. But before my intention could be fulfilled, the day fixed for the disputation at Lausanne had already arrived,[43]at which my presence was required; and at the same time I saw the November fair approaching, which I considered to be a more convenient time for writing, and therefore it seemed to me better to wait for that opportunity. So much to stop your expostulations.

The talk of the disputation above mentioned has, I understand, been spread so far and wide, that I do not doubt some whiff of it has reached your city. The disputation was appointed by a decree of the Council of Berne, accompanied by a solemn Edict,[44]whereby the Senate declared, that it was free to every one, andthatwithout the dread of being called in question, to state whatever might concern the matter of disagreement upon the point of religion. They considered that this was the most likely method, by which publicly to expose the unskilfulness of those who try to oppose the Gospel, and that thus they might render of no avail the triumph arising out of this new authority which they have accepted at the hand of the Duke of Savoy. Already, in many places, the idols and altars of Popery have begun to disappear, and I hope it will not be long before all remaining superstition shall be effectually cleared away. The Lord grant that idolatry may be entirely uprooted out of the hearts of all. I do not describe to you the precise form in which the disputation presents itself, because it is not easy to do so in a brief explanation, and also because I trust it will some time or other be published. To-morrow, if the Lord will, I set out for Berne, about which affair you shall hear from me by other letters; and I am afraid it will be necessary for me to hasten forward as far as Basle: which inconvenience, however, I shall endeavour if it be possible to avoid; more especially taking into account the state of my health, and the very unseasonable time of the year. If those idle bellies with you, who chirp together so sweetly in the shade, were only as well disposed as they are talkative, they would instantly flock hither to take on themselves a share of the labour, to which we must be inadequate, since there are so few of us. You can hardly believe the small number of ministers compared with the very many churches which need pastors. How I wish, seeing the extreme necessity of the Church, that, however few they may be in number, there were at least some right-hearted men among you who may be induced to lend a helping hand! May the Lord preserve you.—Yours,

Martianus Lucanius.

Remember me, I entreat you, particularly to your mother and sister, your wife also, if you think proper, your kinsmen, and all the rest.

[Lat. copy—Library of Berne.Vols. 141 and 142.]

Geneva, [February 1537.[46]]

Grace to you and peace from the Lord.

It must be already well known to you how much mischief Caroli[47]has of late stirred up; he has devised a method, forsooth, by which it is possible to aid the dead by prayer, not that their sins may be remitted, but that they may be raised up as expeditiously as possible—certainly a piece of very necessary information, especially at the present time, when we are pressed by so many difficulties. The ambitious man wished to recommend himself to the public, in whose esteem he does not rank very high, by some novelty, as if that had been any thing new which has long ago been propounded by different authors. Nevertheless he impudently claims the praise of the discovery, from whence it is evident, with what purpose he has been induced to put forth this dogma. But even were we to yield to his eager desire of popularity, that false applause which hedemands, of what consequence would that be, when it shall have been clearly proved that the device was not only over curious and trifling, but also silly, as I pledge myself that I will show? But setting aside all consideration of the truth as well as falsehood of the dogma, it is not possible to excuse his extreme malice and dishonesty in the spreading of it abroad. While he had Viret present, there was not a word about that matter. He paid us a visit,—immediately thereon a rumour follows. The matter speaks for itself, that he had remarked upon the absence of his colleague with the view of disturbing the peace of the Church. To this must be added, that upon your own motion it was agreed, by the judgment of all the brethren, that nothing should be brought before the people in an unusual manner, or without having been previously considered, unless many were advised with before hand. You are aware how just and reasonable that is, and how well adapted for promoting the unity of doctrine. By this decree we were well assured that our Churches would be most seasonably guarded against being cut up by dissension. But this troublesome fellow, as if he did not care to what extent he might disturb the Church of Christ by his rashness, at the same time thus sets at defiance the law and judgment of the whole Church. Even if he had not hitherto led a dissolute and altogether irrational life, he ought, by this time, to have considered that a different kind of behaviour must now be adopted by him. But even now, how does he proceed? Never have I heard anything more outrageous; so that it was evident he was doing his best to carry on the war against us. So great was his mental excitement, such the fierceness of exclamation, so bitter were his expressions. Viret was the first to come back; but when that had no effect, at the request of the brethren, I myself also interposed. In the presence of your deputation he positively refused, in the most supercilious manner, to give any explanation of his proceeding; then he complained that my anxious care in bringing the matter under your notice was nothing less than a base conspiracy to ruin him, when most assuredly it is quite certain, that I never entertained any enmity towards him, and that Farel andViret had never found fault with him except on account of his immoral conduct. But Viret refuted all his quirks and calumnies with so much cleverness, that being manifestly detected, he might be considered as convicted upon this point. That he might, therefore, appear to have got the better of us in something or other, he accused the whole meeting of Arianism. I rose up immediately and brought forward the confession in our Catechism, which is repeated in our public letter to your college. Even this did not quiet him, but he declared that we would be suspected in that matter, until we subscribed the creed of Athanasius. I replied, that it was not my practice to approve any thing as the words of God, unless upon due consideration. Here observe the rabid fury of the little ass. Thereupon he cried out, that it was an expression unbecoming a Christian man. The deputies said that there was need of a General Assembly where these matters might be discussed, which they also undertook that themselves would see to. Neither can I in any adequate degree express in words, nor can you conceive, the imminent peril to the Church if that measure be any longer delayed; therefore I do not think we ought to wait until the deputies make good their promise, but rather that these measures must be referred to you and to your colleagues. In that view of the question, the public letter has been addressed to your college. But, in truth, my very worthy brother, you can do most in this affair yourself, and ought, in virtue of the power which belongs to your place, above every other person, to strive for it to the uttermost. You appear to me to be specially required, seriously to turn your attention to this business. You can hardly believe how sorely the foundations which have hitherto been laid have been affected by this one blow, while, in the meantime, the unskilful are told, that we are not agreed among ourselves upon the doctrine of religion, nor can there be a doubt that more serious consequences will ensue presently, unless we apply the suitable remedy. Already certain of our people are called impostors, who not only concealed that they pray for the dead, but have confidently affirmed that they do not. Further, the peasants object, that we ought to be agreed among ourselves before we endeavour to bring othersto be of our mind. Think with yourself what may be expected to arise from such preliminaries as these. Moreover, this stigma with which that wicked calumniator has branded us must not be allowed to stick, so as that the seamless robe of the Gospel may utterly be rent asunder by the reproaches of the ungodly. It ought, therefore, to be carefully looked to, that all the ministers speaking the French language, who are under the government of your republic, may be enforced to attend the council, where all controversies of this sort are to be decided. We must lose no time, however, and also strive, if by any means that can be obtained, that it may meet before Easter. There are, besides, some other matters which it may prove of no inconsiderable advantage to have settled before that time, as, indeed, we hear some muttering about, I cannot tell what, of an incrusted body of Christ, with which absurd folly it is requisite that we grapple in due time. Do you, therefore, according to your piety and prudence, see to it that you be not wanting in a matter of so great moment, and arrange at once for the meeting before Easter. We have compared your directory for the ceremonies,—translated by Maurus[48]at our request, with ours, and find no difference except that it is more concise. I brought it with me lately to Lausanne, as there was some prospect that I might also visit Berne. It seemed to me, however, to be better to wait for the day of assembly, when we can go over it at our leisure. Pray do not hesitate to write, both concerning that and the calling of the synod, at which our ministers will willingly attend.

[Lat. orig. autogr.—Library of Geneva.Vol. 106.]

Geneva,23d April 1537.

As I had no particular matter which occasioned my writing to you at present, so I had not intended to write if Farel had not thought otherwise. I have, therefore, taken up the pen rather in compliance with his request, than because I considered it to be necessary. For I have no doubt whatever of his having embraced everything in his letter which was likely to suggest itself to my recollection. When a certain person of our acquaintance had brought us word, that he had lately been informed by letter that the brother who was detained in prison at Besançon had been let out with the general consent of the people, and set entirely at liberty, when not long ago he would have been retained a prisoner in that dungeon, from whence no one was ever brought forth, unless to undergo the sentence of death, and besides, that the bishop, having packed up his furniture in a great rage, had retired into the neighbouring castle, the opportunity seemed to us to be most particularly well suited for our getting a footing in that quarter. We have, therefore, requesteda certain native of Langres, who was then close at hand, a man richly endowed in the best kind of learning and of mild deportment, that he would undertake the management of that province. But as he could not be induced to do so by any entreaties, we have thought of him of Tournay, if anyhow he could be dragged away from Aigle, which we suppose might not be altogether impracticable, if Froment[50]would so far acquiesce as to take upon him that charge of his. He may very well give them to understand, that he has been called by his friends in France for a few days to Geneva, in which interval he will be able to ascertain whether there is any chink or inlet by which to gain an entrance; and should he have any success at all, then all is well—the point is gained; but if he shall see that the corn is not yet ripe, he will retire without delay.

Do urge forward matters as much as possible, that we may be ready beforehand on the day of assembly, and do so arrange in the meantime that all our friends attend on the day of meeting thoroughly well prepared. For we shall never be able to stand our ground against so much wickedness, unless we hold closely together in the most perfect agreement with each other. Wherefore, both in setting forth the confession and in all our deliberation, it will be desirable to have one voice for all—to be unanimous.

Michel, notwithstanding the remonstrance of the whole Presbytery, being self-elected Bishop of Aubonne, has gone away from hence, noways delayed or hindered by the very many solemn entreaties of the brethren, by which they endeavoured to withdraw him from so bold an undertaking. If such a precedent were once allowed, what will our ministry be but plain robbery? I therefore say nothing about the man, because at first sight you will easily scent out what he would beat. I consider your being restored to us to be indispensable, unless we are willing to lose Farel, who is more exhausted with the great anxiety than I ever thought would be the case with one of such an iron constitution. I wished you to be aware of this, that at your leisure you might think of a successor. I am afraid, also, lest that church may be entirely dispersed by schism rending it in pieces, if we leave any gap or vacancy in it.

May the Lord continually enrich you with the daily increase of his Spirit, my most friendly brother. Mr. de Hautmont[51]intends returning to France. If, therefore, you can procure a trustworthy and suitable conveyance, will you send back the cloak and such of the books as had been brought thither? Saunier[52]himself and his relative salute you.

[Lat. orig. autogr.—Library of Geneva.Vol. 106.]

Berne, [May 1537.]

Although the tricks and wiles of Satan are altogether marvellous and not easy to believe, those, I mean, by which he closely assails us in our work, of which we have had somebypast experience, the malicious craftiness wherewith he has of late assaulted us by his apt tool Caroli,[54]has never in the least beguiled us. For we had not only foreseen all this sort of warfare long ago; we were even prepared with our utmost energy to maintain the conflict. When first we heard, therefore, that the Arian heresy was imputed to us, and then a little afterwards the Sabellian, none of these things very much disturbed us, seeing that our ears had long since been well seasoned against such calumnies; and we entertained the assured hope that they would eventually pass away in a wreath of smoke. In the meantime we could only oppose all this by availing ourselves of that defence, which lay ready to our hand, by which we could give abundant satisfaction to all pious and right-minded men. Indeed, some short time previous we had drawn up and set forth a catechism,[55]also published in French, where we testify that we embraced the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, under one essence of the Godhead: making, nevertheless, such a distinction between each from the other, that no room might be left for any crooked suspicion of ambiguity. We taught, certainly, that Christ is the true and natural Son of God, who had possessed the like essential deity with the Father from all eternity, who in the fulness of time had assumed our flesh, foreordained for our redemption.

When we saw that the wild beast was persevering in his rabid course, we sought a hearing in the assembly of ministers from throughout the whole canton of Berne, in whose presence we might publicly defend our innocence. Those brethrenspeaking the French language met first of all at Lausanne,[56]whither also two deputies from the Senate of Berne,[57]as well as two ministers, were sent.[58]Whatsoever falsehoods they were able to trump up, that worthy personage gathered up into one bundle. Indeed he had come well furnished in the way of accusation, prepared and ready with his bag, after the fashion of a lawyer. We emptied his bag, however, to such a degree, by our refutation, as not to leave even the shadow of a suspicion upon the mind of any one present. At last we came to the reading aloud of our Confession of Faith, in which he pointed out some ten errors which he considered as such; almost every one else was of opinion that there was nought expressed in it that was not godly and devout. We were thereupon absolved forthwith by the judgment of the Synod, while, on the other hand, he was adjudged unworthy to discharge the functions of the ministry. His persevering impudence shewed clearly that he was no way abashed or downcast by such a result. Again he brought forth that silly bag of emptiness crammed more full than ever; and when we had unbagged the whole of its contents, by which he was doing his best to throw some suspicion on the past, the formulary of our Confession was at length produced, which, although it was not chargeable with any other crime whatever, he held notwithstanding to be guilty of one capital offence, because Christ was there affirmed to be that Jehovah, who of himself alone was always self-existent, which charge I was quite ready to meet. Certainly, if the distinction between the Father and the Word be attentively considered, we shall say that the one is from the other. If, however, the essential quality of the Word be considered, in so far as he is one God with the Father, whatever can be said concerning God mayalso be applied to him, the second person in the glorious Trinity. Now, what is the meaning of the name Jehovah? What did that answer imply which was spoken to Moses?I am that I am.Paul makes Christ the author of this saying. We do not take the trouble to persuade you and all the godly to approve the truth of that judgment; but we have been unwilling that the concealed malignity of this hopeless calumniator should pass unnoticed, lest rumours of any kind might reach you so as to make an impression at variance with the true state of the case. Nothing, indeed, could have been set forth more plainly than the statement in our Confession, that Christ is that eternal Word begotten of the Father before all time. Therefore, of a truth, unless we please to imagine a twofold Deity, it behoves that we speak concerning his essence no otherwise than as concerning the essence of the one God. There is no one to be found who is not satisfied with this form of expression except himself. The brethren, as was worthy of the faithful ministers of Christ, arrived at the formal conclusion, that it appeared to them that we had been most unfairly and unreasonably brought under any suspicion at all; and that they had not observed anything to be disapproved in our Confession. While these proceedings were going forward, a letter was brought from Myconius addressed publicly to the meeting. On the back of that, another from Capito to Farel, addressed in general terms, from both of which it was evident that an appalling rumour had been spread far and wide about our controversy. To sum up the whole, this affair has been maliciously, as well as artfully, cooked up by certain individuals, in order to stir up an evil report, and to encourage a bad opinion of us throughout all countries. And although this man of straw has not been able hitherto to succeed in his most vain attempt, yet this, however, is certain, that he has greatly annoyed us; as indeed we cannot esteem it to be a matter of no great consequence that our adversaries should hear, that we are jangling in debate with one another, and not even agreed upon that most important doctrine of our religion, far more, that the churches should suspect us of such a thing. We have been the more astoundedby this intelligence, because it never entered into our imagination that we had any need to be alarmed on that account. We hope, however, it will yet come to pass, through the goodness of the Lord, that these noisome exhalations from the pit may soon be blown away and fall back upon those who devise any mischief to the cause of Christ and of his Church. Already, indeed, the arm of the Lord has begun to reveal itself, and to put forth his power in extinguishing these beginnings of evil, such as they are. The calumniator himself[59]has been driven into banishment by a decree of the Senate; we have been openly and at once acquitted, not merely from crime, but also from even the suspicion of guilt. Though, indeed, for a season, the fellow may try to set out his wares to the best advantage under the sign of Athanasius, as if he were suffering in defence of the faith, there does not, however, appear to be any great danger that the world will esteem as an Athanasius a person who is sacrilegious, a whoremonger, a homicide steeped in the blood of many saints. While we proclaim him to be such an one, we avouch nothing but what we are ready to establish by solid proof. These facts, I wished in brief compass to signify to you, that we may not in absence (as sometimes happens) be pressed beyond measure by the overweening ignorance and the malicious accusations of the ungodly. I send you also a copy of the Confession, which you may communicate to your colleagues.[60]For I consider this to be a matter of great moment, that we may not be frightened from our propriety by obscure reports which no one can lay hold upon. I have at the same time to beseech of you that you will take charge of sending, not only the Confession, but also this letter, to each of the brethren, or rather that you do stretch a point to allay their anxiety, by a letter from yourself. Adieu; may the Lord Jesusfill you with his Spirit, so that with one mind and heart you may be enabled to extend the glory of his name.—Yours,

Calvin.

[Calvin's Latin Correspondence—Amsterdam Edit., tom. ix. p. 226.]


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