that the latter may not be without a patrimony. He has married his two daughters, as you know, in Italy, the one to the son of the Duke of Florence, the other to the Duke of Mantua; the latter a petty dependent prince, the former governing the Pope by his counsels and influence, and who has made himself so much master of Tuscany that all his neighbors, terrified by his power, are reduced to silence. He is aiming at higher things.
The Venetians, the Duke of Forrare, f104a and others have united in a league.
Each one consults his own private interests. This drama opened with an act of spoliation. Contrary to all justice, the legitimate prince was stripped of his Duchy of Camerino. The Pope restored it. But because the
Apostolic See suffered by this restitution, Placentia and Parma are demanded in exchange for it. f105a You do not perceive that these preludes will terminate in serious contests; that they are but the precursors of a general council, I am quite disposed to believe, nor will you, I fancy, say the contrary. With reference, then, to what you wrote, that we must wait till our heavenly Father dissipate their bloody counsels, I would have your remark that sparks of his heavenly light are already beginning to shine.
Though it behooves us to look a little deeper into the aspect of things, and, above all, to this point that if hitherto we have been in a state of torpor, God is now wakening us up from our lethargy. Before I relate to you matters enveloped in greater mystery, you will learn in what a wretched and deplorable state France is now, from a complaint of which I send you a copy which was brought here. You will laugh at my offering you a pamphlet written in French, but you will find about you translators who will explain to you the principal points in it. It will give you a notion of the marvelous intrigues of the house of Guise. Respecting other subjects you will excuse my brevity, for I should never have done were I to enter into details in so immense a field of matters.
All the great men of the nation were lately convoked at Fontainebleau, a place about two days’ journey distant from Paris. None of the princes of the blood royal were present, except the Cardinal of Bourbon, brother to the King of Navarre, one you might easily mistake for a cask or a flagon, so little has he the shape of a human being. The Guises imagined that it would add greatly to the pomp of the assembly, if as many as possible of those purple robed knights, who are so proud of belonging to the order of St. Michael, were summoned to attend it. Thirty of them made their
Chancellor took occasion to speak in pompous terms of the illustrious senate in which was vested the whole authority of the kingdom. His exordium was in a strain of the most fulsome adulation. He then enlarged on the state of the kingdom, remarking that as it stood in need of remedies to heal its complaints, it was their business to investigate the cause of the evils. Here he brought his report to a close, as if at his wit’s end he had been invoking a consultation of state doctors. The king, by a preconcerted scheme, asked the Bishop of Valence, who was among the last of the counselors to deliver his sentiments, evidently because the Guises wished to elicit the secret inclinations of all, and suddenly, as they should find an opportunity, assail them one by one. Contrary to the expectations of every body, the Admiral arose and presented to the king a petition in which the inhabitants of Normandy, who wish to worship God in purity, requested to have leave to assemble themselves in open day, in order not to be exposed to diverse calumnies on account of clandestine or nocturnal meetings. Being questioned how he became possessed of such a document, he replied that he took an interest in the public good, and was curious to know what the Lutherans wished for; that he would produce, moreover, the signatures of fifty thousand men that were affixed to it, if the king desired it. In the whole assembly but two persons spoke with any degree of discretion — the Admiral and the Archbishop of Vienne. When all the speakers had delivered their opinions, of whom the greater part; consisted of underlings, the Duke of Guise gave vent to his spite with an insolence that would not have been tolerated elsewhere. In a few words I will give you a sample of his stolidity. When the Admiral had expressed his disapprobation of the barbarous custom, not only of assigning to the king body-guards, but surrounding him with an army, declaring that such an education was not worthy of a nation like France, and that a youthful sovereign should not be brought up to distrust his subjects, whose affections, on the contrary, he ought to conciliate and foster by acts of kindness; that madman replied that the king had no need of tutors or governors, since he had been educated in the practice of every virtue, (I quote his words to the letter,) and if, moreover, he required any
instruction, his mother was fully competent for that task. He had the audacity to say that in spite of what a thousand councils should decree, he was immovably resolved to adhere to the institutions of his ancestors. His
brother, the Cardinal, with greater gravity and shrewdness observed that it was idle to demand of councils any innovation in doctrine, for it was impious to make those things which had proceeded from the Holy Spirit the subject of controversy. If any vices in conduct existed, permission should be granted to the bishops of their own authority to correct them.
The Bishop of Vienne had provoked him to make this remark, having declared that it was a base and disgraceful sign of dissoluteness when bishops abandoned their churches to frequent the courts of princes. He also, in vehement terms, besought the king not to bereave churches of their pastors under the frivolous pretext of the public good, for that hence it followed as a consequence that no one was restrained by law or necessity, but every one did whatever his inclination prompted. You ask, What resulted from all this? The Bishop of Vienne betook himself home. Four or five days were spent in vain recriminations. A. meeting of the estates is fixed for the month of December. The bishops are convoked for the 20th of January, not that they should decide upon any thing, but merely that they should deliberate upon what may be expedient to be laid before the general assembly. Hitherto the Guises have struggled obstinately to prevent the assembling of the estates. Now, having plucked up courage, they are devising means wittily to overreach those who expect any relief from this measure. For they have tacked a clause to the decree by which it is provided, first, that each of the provinces should examine, in the
presence of their governors, what affairs it may be expedient to have discussed in the general assembly; (in this examination there will not be a shadow of liberty:) next, that they should choose their deputies according to the suggestions of the same governors; so that none will come up to the meeting but such purchased parasites as the Guises shall be pleased to name. How frivolous, moreover, and nugatory this parade of a council is, you will comprehend from the form of the decree which any of your friends will translate for you. Meanwhile, the truth of the gospel is breaking forth. In Normandy our brethren are preaching in public, because no private house is capable of containing an audience of three and four thousand persons. There is greater liberty in Poitou, Saintonge, and the whole of Gascony. Languedoc, Provence, and Dauphiny possess many intrepid disciples of Christ. Why the Cardinal is so supine he has himself hinted pretty clearly; evidently it is that ere long he may detect the imprudence of these inconsiderate people; but the Lord, I trust, will not
attempts.
The King of Navarre is still quiet. He is, nevertheless, an object of suspicion, as if he were about to attempt something important. Thus, when garrisons were lately placed in ten places of the kingdom, the most effective for the purposes of the French war was stationed by the Guises in the territory of Gascony. I have not had news of Beza for some time, because the roads are blocked up. At Lyons a quantity of arms was seized.
There was then a great trepidation in that quarter, and though no one marched against them, yet they conceived themselves to be in great danger, and thus their fears whetted their cruelty. Some have been already hanged, and all who come from there are immediately dragged to prison, and put to the rack indiscriminately. Be sure that our brother Beza did not go there of his own accord, but because he was summoned by a letter of the king’s, in which he asked me politely and with the greatest earnestness to grant him this highly important favor. I thought it right not to refuse him, partly that Beza might stimulate his sluggishness, and partly that he might counteract the turbulent counsels of many. For I never approved of deciding our cause by violence and arms. But as I can never crowd into one letter the immense quantity of news that yet remain untold, I shall here come to a close. Because you made no difficulty in undertaking the task of procuring proper masters for the young men that are sent from here to be educated in your city, and also in seeing that they were lodged in virtuous families, our senate begs me to offer you their warmest thanks for the hearty good-will you have shown, and they most willingly pledge themselves to return the favor, should an occasion ever present itself. Besides, these four who are maintained at the public expense, some others are sent by private persons whom I desire not less to recommend to you. I have been entreated to do so in the name of three, but as I hear that two of them are already provided with lodgings, I am very desirous that you should make arrangements for the third, both because his mother is a woman of singular piety, and his father was a dear and intimate friend of mine. His name is Michael
Planchan. Pardon me, if yielding to entreaties, I occasion you more trouble than I could wish.
Farewell, most distinguished sir and my very honored brother. You will present my best respects to your brethren, colleagues, and other friends.
May the Lord always keep you in safety, direct you by his Spirit, and bless your labors.
Yours,
John Calvin.
I know not whether I ought to thank M. Wolf for Tilmann’s book, f106a translated into Latin, which he sent me. For though that wrangling fellow deserved the critic’s lash, yet I was of opinion that he should have been passed over with contempt.
[Lat. Orig. Autog. — Library of Geneva. Volume 107 a.]