Letters of John Calvin, Volume II

CCVII. – To Henry Bullinger

It is now six months since I returned your book, with annotations, such as you had requested me to make.171 I am surprised that I have received no reply from you since that time. When I was in your quarter, you reminded me that there was to be frequent interchange of letters between us. In the meantime, I have heard of some of your townsmen having at different times passed through this place; I have had no one going to you, so far as I remember. Should an opportunity of writing be at any time afforded you, I earnestly request you will not allow it to pass without availing yourself of it.

I am compelled to hear more about the disaster of Germany than I could wish; and yet nothing is said of the condition of Constance, which remains deeply fixed in my mind. There was great trepidation at Strasbourg when it was supposed that the Emperor would winter there. Moreover, even to this day, they assert that the gates will not be opened to him, if they receive support from any other quarter. I do not know what the Helvetic cities may think. For a short time, indeed, all rumours of a war to be waged against them have ceased, on account of the Italian commotions. But what if all these cities, struck with terror of him, do not venture upon any movement? He already occupies Placentia and Parma, – Peter Farnese172 having been put to death as some suppose, or at least, quite prostrated; and so great a success may possibly be the means of bringing Italy into a state of peaceful subjugation in the course of this year. Were he to enter Strasbourg, he would, you perceive, occupy an encampment whence he could invade us. Would there then be time, my Bullinger, for you to deliberate? For by keeping silence, do you not, as it were, present your throat to be cut? On this point, however, I have no good reason for making an appeal to you, for I know that your fellow-citizens will be so wise as to desire to apply a remedy. The neighbours [Bernese] are manifestly acting the part of fools, in withstanding the adoption of any measures for curbing this wild beast.173 Nevertheless, as they are of their own accord bent on destruction, may the Lord direct his own elect by the spirit of wisdom, to make a seasonable stand against the dangers. There are many things which ought to deter you from the French alliance. But just as, on the one hand, it is by no means expedient that you should be wholly bound up with him [the French king], so, on the other, I do not see that you are to shun all connection with him.

As to the rest, the boy who has delivered my letter to you, is the son of a senator with whom I am on terms of the greatest intimacy. He has, in virtue of our friendship, requested me to give his son a letter of introduction to you. He lives with your treasurer, as far as I understand. But it is his father's design that he should prosecute the study of letters, of which he has acquired the rudiments. He is of a teachable disposition and fond of study. I therefore beg of you to recommend him to the masters of your school, in your own as well as my name, not simply in the ordinary fashion, that greater attention may be paid to him than if he were unknown. This service will be highly gratifying to me.

Adieu, illustrious sir, and highly revered friend in the Lord, along with your fellow-ministers and brethren, all of whom you will salute in my name and in that of my brethren. May the Lord be continually present with you, and bless your labours, I also wish well to your wife and children. – Yours,

[Lat. orig. autogr. – Archives of Zurich. Gallicana Scripta. p. 4.]

CCVIII. – To Monsieur de Falais

Monseigneur, – Since my last letter nothing new has occurred, except that our brother Des Gallars has returned, and has also brought with him the present bearer for your service, seeing that M. Budé did not find the person ready of whom he had spoken to you. I think and feel assured, that this man will quite suit you; he is so loyal and serviceable, and knows well what is good breeding, so as to demean himself becomingly. I have advised that he should come hither along with you as soon as possible, and chiefly because I do not know whether you have resolved to undertake the journey. I have had no tidings of the individual about whom I wrote to you,174 only I have heard that some disturbance had broken out at Noyon, which may possibly have delayed him, because he was to have been accompanied by a steward of his own, who must have been detained along with the others.

Master William Farel and Master Peter Viret have been here for a week: your presence alone was wanting to complete the festival. Everything goes on as usual. May God of his grace correct whatever is defective, and increase whatever little good there may be. The good Maldonado cannot raise himself up; so that there is no hope of his being of service to you for the present. But when you have work for my brother to do, he will make up for the former failure.

Monsieur, having presented our affectionate remembrances, all, as well to yourself as to Madame, I pray our good Lord to have you always in his holy keeping, to govern you by his Holy Spirit, to bless and to help you in every way.

Your humble brother and servant,

In the above remembrances, Master William, Master Peter, my wife, all the friends are included, more than a dozen. I pray also to our Lord, that he may please to rule your whole household, to which I desire to be heartily commended.

[Fr. orig. autogr. – Library of Geneva. Vol. 194.]

CCIX. – To Monsieur de Falais

Monseigneur, – In turning over my papers the other day for another purpose, I found a few words of a preface175 which I had written on the return of Master Peter Viret. I now send it you, not so much in order that it may be made use of, as to let you know that I had carefully attended to what you had requested of me, although from forgetfulness it had been left there.

I have no doubt but that many reports are flying about at present concerning the affairs of this town. Whatever you may hear of them, let it not prevent your sleeping quite at your ease; for there is a vast number of people who take a pleasure in lying, not merely among our neighbours, but also of those within the town.

The good Maldonado is raised up again by the favour of God, but not without great difficulty.

Monsieur, having humbly commended me to your good grace and that of Madame, I pray our good Lord to have you always in his holy keeping. I look for tidings of you about the end of this week.

Your humble brother and servant,

[Fr. orig. autogr. – Library of Geneva. Vol. 194.]

CCX. – To Farel

I am not surprised, and I am thankful that you feel impatient because so few letters from me reach you at this time; for I see from this that we are the objects of solicitude on your part. You are, moreover, daily hearing many reports, some of which may cause you bitter sorrow, and others inspire you with various fears on our account. The rumours that are spread abroad are almost all groundless; but we are oppressed by intestine evils that are so little public as hardly to be known, unless to a few in the city. The wild beast that lately, by the treachery of his keepers, escaped from his den, breathes nothing but threats.176 Macrin being cast out, there is nothing they do not promise themselves, because they are confident that matters are now entirely in their own hands. For they count upon this [ejection] as constituting the proof of oppressed liberty. Affairs are certainly in such a state of confusion that I despair of being able longer to retain this church, at least by my own endeavours. May the Lord hear your incessant prayers in our behalf. [My] brother will give you a better account of all the circumstances [than I can do by letter.]

Adieu, most upright brother. Salute respectfully all the brethren. – Yours,

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

CCXI. – To Viret. 177

[The enemy] are so blinded that they pay no regard to propriety. Yesterday not a little confirmed a suspicion previously entertained by us, that they were shamelessly striving to excite some commotion. The Two Hundred had been summoned. I had publicly announced to my colleagues that I would go to the senate-house. We were there a little, indeed, before the hour of meeting. As many people were still walking about in the public street, we went out by the gate that is contiguous to the senate-house. Numerous confused shouts were heard from that quarter. These, meanwhile, increased to such a degree as to afford a sure sign of an insurrection. I immediately ran up to the place. The appearance of matters was terrible. I cast myself into the thickest of the crowds, to the amazement of almost every one. The whole people, however, made a rush towards me; they seized and dragged me hither and thither, lest I should suffer any injury. I called God and men to witness that I had come for the purpose of presenting my body to their swords. I exhorted them, if they designed to shed blood, to begin with me. The worthless, but especially the respectable portion of the crowd, at once greatly relaxed in their fervour. I was at length dragged through the midst to the Senate. There fresh fights arose, into the midst of which I threw myself. All are of opinion that a great and disgraceful carnage was prevented from taking place by my interposition. My colleagues, meanwhile, were mixed up with the crowd. I succeeded in getting them all to sit down quietly. They say that all were exceedingly affected by a long and vehement speech, suitable to the occasion, which I delivered. The exceptions were at least few, and even they, not less than the respectable part of the people, praised my conduct in the circumstances.

God, indeed, protects myself and colleagues to the extent of the privilege implied in the declaration of even the most abandoned, that they abhor the least injury done to us not less than they detest parricide. Their wickedness has, however, reached such a pitch, that I hardly hope to be able any longer to retain any kind of position for the Church, especially under my ministry. My influence is gone, believe me, unless God stretch forth his hand.

I can make no certain reply regarding the daughter of our neighbour, because having once already found the father difficult to manage in this matter, I do not venture to raise any expectation. Nothing, however, would be more expedient, in my judgment, than for the man himself to come hither; for the father will strenuously demand that at the very first. Nevertheless, if you so order it, we shall make every endeavour even in his absence. I have not yet spoken to the brother of Du-Plessis. About their quarrel, more at another time.

Adieu, brother and most sincere friend. Salute your colleague and all the brethren. My wife and I wish yours every greeting. May the Lord be perpetually present with you. – Amen.

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

CCXII. – To Monsieur de Falais

Monseigneur, – I shall not at present write a very long letter to you because I was not informed that the messenger would go away so soon. He is an engraver, who had left about two hours before I could speak to our printer. Seeing, therefore that your armorial bearings would not have been very well suited to the form of the book, I immediately sent after him, and have had them done in lead, as you will see by the proof. I feel quite confident that you will not be sorry that a crown was expended to make the thing quite complete. The printing of the book is not yet begun, because it has been necessary to recast some letters of the fount, which is the same with which the supplication was printed, very readable and handsome. We shall begin it this week, if the Lord will; but we shall not touch the Latin at all, until we hear from yourself. As I have no spare time at present, I shall put off all other matters, and send you an answer in regard to them by Robert, my wife's cousin.

We are somewhat annoyed here by those who ought to bring us peace. I hope, however, that good shall result from it, and that shortly, to the rejoicing of those who desire that God may be honoured. But while our brethren are persecuted by open enemies, we ourselves must needs be troubled by those of our own household. There is one mercy, however, that all is for our profit, provided that we are so well advised as thus to take it. As I have formerly told you, do not be disturbed by anything that is said, setting down the whole as falsehood, until you hear from us how matters go.

Monsieur, having humbly commended me to your kind favour, and to that of Madame, and the whole of your worthy family, I beseech our good Lord to have you in his keeping, to guide you by his Spirit, to send you what to him may seem meet as best for you.

Your servant and humble brother,

I have sent by a trusty man the letter of M. de Varan.

[Fr. orig. autogr. – Library of Geneva. Vol. 194.]

CCXIII. – To Viret. 178

Amid the great swellings of our commotions, I ought not, nevertheless, to have gone so far as to ask you to come hither, because I knew that you were detained in your own locality by necessary occupations; and another obstacle stood in the way of it, as it was possible some rumour of your coming might thereupon reach the Arctei. Now, as I hope you have more leisure, you would do a valuable service were you to make yourself ready for the journey on the earliest possible day. I have not yet made up my mind as to what I am finally to do, beyond this, that I can no longer tolerate the manners of this people, even although they should bear with mine: and withal I do not understand why they object to my severity. I should not, however, take it so ill, did I give them offence without even any fault on my part, were I not becomingly impressed with a sense of their wretchedness. For how little of life remains to me, that I should be solicitous about myself? But I am foolish in handling these matters in a letter, when I am confident you will be here presently. Adieu, brother, and dearest friend. May the Lord Jesus protect you along with your wife and whole family. You will salute in my name, and in that of the brethren, your fellow-ministers. – Yours,

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

CCXIV. – To Farel

My Antidote179 now begins to please me, since it is so greatly approved of by you, for before, I was not satisfied with it. But you who know my daily labours, and still more the contests with which I am not so much occupied as quite wasted, are perhaps ready to excuse me when there is anything not quite perfect. I certainly marvel that any composition worthy of perusal can emanate from me. With regard to your exhortation, that my colleagues and I should persist with unbroken resolution, I may say that neither dangers nor troubles weaken my determination. But as I am sometimes destitute of counsel in matters where confusion so greatly prevails, I desire that God would grant me my discharge, – a foolish wish you will say; I admit that it is so; but what did Moses, that illustrious example of patience? Does he not complain of too heavy a burden being laid on his shoulders? I also am, in truth, simply tempted by these thoughts; I do not, however, give way to them. We have inspired some fear in our men, and nevertheless there is as yet no appearance of amendment. Such is their shamelessness, that they devour with open and regardless ears all our clamours; finally, the diseases of many are incurable. For thus far we have essayed almost all methods with no success. The last act remains, at which I wish you to be present. You will, I suppose, have learned from my letter to Viret, how God stilled the tragical tumult; for I had given him an injunction to that effect.180 The Two Hundred ordered us, and the other ten peace makers, to make away with all dissensions.181 I wished that the initiative should be taken by me. Our Cæsar yesterday denied that he had any quarrel with me; I immediately pressed out the matter from the sore. In a grave and calm speech, I made certain sharp strictures, but such as were calculated to wound very slightly. Although he promised reformation hand in hand, I am afraid that I have preached but to the deaf. I wish you would again gladden me by your arrival. I am aware that some people have complained to Viret of my immoderate severity. I know not what his belief is. I scented out the fact, however, that he was afraid lest I should too greatly indulge my ardour. I have requested him to come hither. One in Terence says: If you were here, you would feel differently. I might say the same. If you were in my place, I know not what you would do. But amid a multitude of sorrows, this likewise must be patiently borne. I do not say these things in reply to you or Viret, but to others who idly censure us. I seem, moreover, to see your sympathy for me, so far am I from thinking that you have any hostility towards me. Adieu, best and most upright brother, along with your whole family, whom you will affectionately salute in my name and in that of my wife, as well as all fellow-ministers, and all the godly. – Yours,

[Calvin's Lat. Corresp. Opera, tom. ix. p. 49.]

CCXV. – To the Family of Budé. 182

Messieurs and well-beloved Brethren, – Although the present is addressed particularly to two of you,184 I nevertheless write in such wise, that if you think fit it may serve for the whole household. If the account which I have heard of the death of your good brother and mine have been the occasion of joy to me, as, indeed, there was good reason for it, you who have known better the whole matter, have, assuredly, far more ample matter for rejoicing, not for that you have been deprived of so excellent a companion, on which account both you and I have good ground for regret – all the more that the number of those who in the present day walk constantly in the fear of God is so small and rare, but because of the singular grace which God had conferred upon him, of perseverance in the fear of his name, the faith and patience which he has manifested, and other tokens of true Christianity. For all that is as a mirror wherein we may contemplate the strength wherewith our kind heavenly Father assists his children, and most of all, out of their greatest difficulties. Then, also, we may conclude that his death was indeed happy and blessed, in the face of him and of all his angels. At the same time, you must reflect that it is a fine example for you, lest it be converted into a testimony against you, to make you inexcusable before God, the great Judge. For inasmuch as he, dying as a Christian, has shewn you how you ought to live, it is certain that God would not have such a testimony to be useless. Know, then, that the death of your brother is as God's trumpet, whereby he would call upon you to serve him alone, and this far more loudly than if your brother had lived ten years longer to exhort you: while, besides, the pious exhortations which he addressed to you are ever sounding in your ears, that his zeal may glow in your hearts, that his earnest and instant prayers may quicken you, to draw you towards Him to whom he has been gathered and restored as one of his own. I do not doubt that his expressed condemnation of the abuses and superstitions which exist in Christendom, may have given occasion of murmuring to many, and that it may have somewhat aroused the rage of the adversaries of the Gospel against the whole family; but it is not fitting that the plots and threatenings of the wicked should have more power to discourage our hearts than so effectual a call from God to uphold us. In short, you must take heed that the blessing become not an occasion of evil to you; wherefore, if hitherto ye have begun well, which, indeed, ought to prove a help to you in going forward, do not slacken, but rather redouble your ardour, so as to run with greater diligence. I am not ignorant of the dangers which environ you, and am not so devoid of fellow-feeling, as not to have that sympathy which I ought. But you are aware, that will not excuse such a degree of timidity as there is among those who mingle in the world, disguising themselves in every way; and so much the more that there are few who are quite exempt from it, our duty is to urge and provoke one another forward; and inasmuch as every one ought to do his utmost to walk according to the measure of knowledge vouchsafed to him, you should examine the more narrowly whereunto ye have attained. For you cannot pretend the common excuse wherewith the most part cover themselves, as with some moistened rag of a palliative, namely, that God has not yet bestowed so much grace upon them. For besides that God has opened your eyes to make you understand with what zeal you ought to glorify him before men, above all, the profession you have made obliges you to it as well. Nought remains, therefore, except that you disencumber yourself of worldly anxieties, to seek in good earnest the everlasting kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ. And if it be not possible to confess him as your Saviour where you are, you should far rather prefer to be removed for a little while from the country of your birth, than to be for ever banished from that immortal inheritance to which we are called. Whether willingly or no, we must needs be strangers in this world; shall we then refuse even to stir from the nest? Happy, indeed, are they who declare, not merely by empty profession, but effectually, that they are so, and rather than decline from the faith, are quite ready at once to quit their home, and, in order to dwell in union with Jesus Christ, make no difficulty about parting with their earthly comforts. These are hard sayings to those who have not tasted the worth of Christ; but to you who have felt his power, all else ought, after the example of Saint Paul, to be counted but as filth and dung. Indeed, it is not enough that you yourselves keep steadfast, but if there be others who are weaker, you ought to strengthen them by your admonitions, and to look well to it that there be no falling away.