YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS,
AND
THE LITTLE FLOCK THAT HE FED.
BY5
REV. WM. M.  LACKBURN,
AUTHOR OF
"'THE REBEL PRINCE," "JUDAS THE MACCCABEE~,"
"THE EXILES OF' MADEIRA," &0..
PHILADELPHIA:
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION,
No. 821 CHESTNUT STREET.




Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1865, by
THE TRUSTEES OF THE
PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION,
In the Clerk's Office of the -District:Court for the Eastern District
of Pennsylvania.
ST5EOTYPED BY WESTCOTT & THOoseN.




PREFACE.
THE warp and the woof of this volume are facts drawa
from history and biography; the surface colours are partly
supplied by imagination. In its preparation several works
have been consulted, but chiefly D'Aubignb's " History of
the Reformation in the time of Calvin." It is intended to
follow "The College Days of Calvin."
If it shall lead the young reader to study the history of
the Reformation, and, especially, to cherish the true faith
of the martyrs, the author will be rewarded for the pleasant
work of a few stormy days.
W. M. B.
TRENTON, N. J.
3








CONTENTS.
CHAPTER L
MADNESS FOR IMAGES......................................................
CHAPTER II.
A NEW  STATUE..................................................   21
CHAPTER III,
THE LITTLE MEETINGS.......................................................  34
CHAPTER IV.
CRIPPLED FOR LIFE............................................ 49
CHAPTER V.
THE WONDER OF PARIS.................................................... 64
CHAPTER VI.
SONGS AND SERMONS........7....................................... 78
CHAPTER VIIL
THE PLIGHT OF THE LEADERS.....................,.,,,.. 93
1*                                                   6




6                                     CONTENTS.
CHAPTER VIII.
PAGE
THE   GROANING  OF  THE  PRISONERS...............................                       106
CHAPTER IX.
THE  PLACARDS.................................................................           122
CHAPTER X.
FAITH   TRIED  BY  FIRE.................................................                137




YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
CHAPTER 1.
MADNErSS FOR IMAGEs.
MORE than three hundred years ago, there lived
in Paris a poor waterman, who kept his little boat
on the river Seine. One day, in June, 1528, a
stranger took a seat on the bench, saying,
"Do not wait for any one else, but row me across
in a hurry."
The boatman wanted to wait for more passengers,
but plied his oar and thought that he was carrying
a student to the Latin Quarter, on the southern side
of the river, almost opposite the Cathedral of NotreDame. The stranger sang a coarse song in ridicule
of the monks, and the waterman gazed at him, and
was charmed with his round musical voice. Perhaps
a more handsome young man had never sat in the
little boat.
"How do you like that?" said the stranger, after
the vulgar chorus was ended.
"I do not like the words, but I admire the
Pausic."




8          YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
"Perhaps you would like this," said the flattered
singer, and he began a song to the Virgin Mary, in
which she was adored as "the mother of God, the
queen of heaven, the mediatress of men, and the
refuge of sinners."
"No, that does not please me," said the boatman,
who wished he could take back his words, as soon
as they were gone from his lips. The poor man betrayed his fears.
"Do not fear me," said the singer. "if you
were the man who broke the heads off the images of
Our Lady and her child, I would not tell the gang
of officers who are searching all the houses in the
city. Not I; you may trust me for that, because
they were very insolent at my home, and ransacked
every nook where a man could hide. The whole
city was running mad after such images, and I am
glad that.some one has broken the statue that so
many worshipped in tbl quarter of St. Antoine.
Did they search your house?"
"Indeed they did, and it's a poor little hut that
nobody could hide in. And they took-."  The
boatman thought it unwise to finish the sentence.
"Took what? your money?  You need not be so
cautious."
"Something far better than money. Since you
seem to be so friendly, I must tell you it was my
Testament. They carried it off, and next, I shall
be seized."
"So you are a heretic; very well, you know what




MADNESS FlOR IMAGES.            9
to expect. You will be burned, if you trouble yourself with such books; and that is all the consolation
I can give you, unless you will send me word when
your hour is coming, and let me look on when you
are at the stake. Perhaps you will recant, though."
"No, sir: I cannot deny my Master. I have one
brand on my forehead now, and it is only a little
mark that the good Shepherd puts on his straying
sheep."
"Let me see."  The waterman lifted his slouched
hat, and the stranger came near to see how deep
the hot iron had burned into the poor man's forehead.  "Horrible, cruel tyrants," he exclaimed,
adding much more in a profaner strain.
"Hold, my friend," said the branded ferryman,
in a soft tone. "Let us forgive our enemies, and
pray for them that persecute us. I thank them, for
ever since that trial of my faith, I have been a happier man."
"Where was the brand put upon you?"
"At Meaux, where the good Lefevre printed the
New Testament and Farel preached to us until he
was driven away. We had happy times there while
the bishop favoured us, but alas! they frightened
him and he recanted, and then it was a sad day for
us. Beda went there from Paris, and he scattered
the flock."
"And so you have come right here where the
terrible Beda lives-he has his quarters right over
there near the Old Sorbonne. Be careful or he. will




10         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
find you out. He has his pack everywhere, ferretting out and hounding down all who read your Testament. I hate him; I hate his religion, but he
don't burn people like me. I wish I had to make
his boots for him; if I did not make them pinch and
pierce his feet, then I am not a shoemaker."
The boatman looked with increased interest at
the stranger, as they touched the bank. Who could
he be?  Could not such an independent young man
be converted to the truth? He must-speak a word to
him. He gently said, "Friend, let a poor Christazdin beg of you to get a Testament and read it."
"If I could get one for you, I would gladly replace what has been stolen from you, but I will not
read it. I choose to live a gay life. If I am not
too drunk, or do not get beaten in a fray, I will be
master at a merry dance to-night. I am a free fellow, and the priests do not think me a heretic, for
I used to pay them well at mass just to keep up a
fair show. It is all nonsense. I will not be a hypocrite; if there is any true religion, you have it. Be
true to it; you will be worth burning, and, no doubt,
you will be happy in the flames. I know you have
something in your heart that you want to tell me;
but it's no use. Here is your fare." He seemed to
treat money with as much levity as he did the most
serious subjects.
"Not so much as this by half, sir," said the boatman, holding out his hand to give back part of the
coin.




MADNESS FOR IMAGES.           11
"Keep it all. Buy you a Testament and be happy. If you wish to favour me, I'll tell you how to
do it. Be here at midnight and take me back."
"I never run my boat so late as that."
"You shall have double pay. And if you want
to know my name, it is Berthelot Milon. My father
is a shoemaker in St. Martin street, between the two
law courts. Never call me Bartholomew, for that is
the name of a Saint's day."
"You may depend upon me," said the waterman,
partly persuaded by his need of money and bread,
and partly by the hope of talking again with the noblest looking young man that he had ever seen walking away toward the college in the Latin quarter. He
stood gazing after Berthelot, now fearing that he had
said too much, and now wishing that he had said
more.
Presently there came four officers leading a man
in chains. They looked at his boat, said it was too
small, took a larger one and started for the other
side. One glance at the prisoner told our boatman
who he was. He had often carried him over, and
they had rowed slowly and had many a pleasant talk.
He was a student, whom the great and good Berquin
supported at college. He had refused to join the
procession of five hundred students, and the scores
of professors, doctors, licentiates and friars, who
marched to the spot where the image of Mary had
been broken on the night of Whitsunday. Ho felt
opposed to such idolatry, and did not think-that




12         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
Beautiful it was to see
Such a goodly company,
Monks gray, black, of every hue,
Walking for an hour or two.
He must be put in prison until he could give a
reason for his conduct, for perhaps he had a hand in
mutilating the image. "I wish he had not been
across the river so late, on the night that the statue
was broken," said the waterman to himself, as he
thought how his innocent friend might be put to
death.
Then came a stranger, who took a seat in his
boat, and he pushed it off with his oar.
"They have at last seized the man who wrought
the wicked mischief, I hope," said the stranger.
"He ought to die this very hour, for such an injury
to'the glorious Mother of God.' "
The pious boatman was shocked to hear such language, which was then very common in Paris. The
passenger continued to extol the "glorious mother"
in the highest terms, and taking out a picture of
Mary, he offered it to his carrier. The poor man
was rowing with all his might; he suddenly stopped,
took the picture, and, with a horror of images and
of the blasphemies uttered, he tore it to pieces, and
threw the fragments into the water, saying sharply,:
"The Virgin Mary has no more power than that bit
of paper." The stranger burned with rage, but said
not a word; as soon as he was landed he ran to inform the officers of what had occurred. Perhaps.




MADNESS FOR IMAGES.            13:this was the man whom the police had been eagerly
seeking.
We will not follow Berthelot Milon through all
the scenes of the day, when he drank wine with the
students, sang vulgar songs for lounging priests at
the taverns, strolled about with company too bad for
us to describe, and passed the evening with the
lowest class of dancers at a ball which needed the
attention of the detective police. At midnight the
revelry was high, but he sought his hat. Evil associates wondered and begged him to linger, but he
broke away from their grasp. The poor waterman
was in his thoughts, and he must see him again, yet
he scarcely knew for what reason. He came to the
landing; the little boat was not there. He waited,
refused to go with others who were crossing, sat
down, rose again, paced to and fro,.made inquiries,
learned nothing, at last got angry.  "The fellow
has been -false to his promise," said he. Then
thinking of the student he had seen, that morning,
in chains, he said, "No; he has been arrested. The
wolves have dragged him to their den." He took
the next boat, crossed the river, and hastened home.
"Well, my son," said his father, who looked up
from his shoe-bench when he saw Berthelot enterthe shop, "I did my work by daylight, and now I
am doing yours. What will Surgeon Pointet say
if these shoes are not done at nine this morning, for
it is morning now?"
"I'll finish them: you please retire." He felt
2




14         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
touched at seeing his kind father toiling until such
late hours.
"Your mother has been coming and going all
night, in great distress, lest you should be brought
home drunk and sorely beaten, or perhaps dead.
Have you no mercy on your parents?"
"-So he has come home at last," said the mother,
entering the shop, which was a front room in the
house. She came near, looked to see if his eyes.were blackened, and said, "You have been drinking, but I am glad you are so nearly sober."
He told where he had been, and ended by saying,
" If I thought that poor waterman was in the
great prison, I would go and break open the doors
and bring him out."
"'Folly, all folly," exclaimed Robert, his father.
"You set yourself up against the Sorbonne to rescue heretics! You think you could oppose the
holy church, do you? May no son of mine ever be
so rash. Remember the Grave does not get cool
very often in these times, when the holy church
must deal justly with these gospellers."
"Yes; holy church, indeed!  Have I not seen
her goad monks and priests carousing this very
night?"
"Not all of them. You did not see friar Bernard,
nor others like him among them."
"Very true; your confessor, friar Bernard, is one
of the best of the clergy, but he will never win me
to his faith. I know this city better than you do;




MADNESS FOR IMAGES.            15
perhaps I kInow it too well; and somehow it happens
that these poor gospellers are a harmless, excellent
sort of people. I know they are heretics, and I
hate their heresy; I know that they sin against
holy church by not adoring the Virgin Mary, and
yet I wish they would dash in pieces every image
that she has in all Paris. If she is so powerful why
does she not protect her statues? If she destroys
those who break them, then why is the Sorbonne so
busy, hunting for the man who severed the head
frlom the one in St. Antoine?  He must be dead
already. Yet you allow the officers to insult you,
and suspect you, and search through  all your
house."
"But after wearying and worrying ourselves up
to this hour, for your sake, we will hardly allow you
to insult us., We will leave you till daylight, and
then you will have soberer thoughts," said Robert
Milon, all of which was true enough, by the time
Surgeon Pointet called to get his shoes.
Berthelot was quite drowsy when the Surgeon
came, but he roused himself up by pouring forth his
ridicule against the monks. "I am quite of your
mind," said Pointet, "for I came to Paris with a
great reverence for them. But I have'doctored'
them up long enough to find them out. They are
mostly a set of diseased debauchees.- I see that the
gospel is'not among them; I must look for it somewhere else."
"Let it alone, as I do," replied Berthelot, who




16         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
would have been a thorough French revolutionist,
if he had lived two hundred and fifty years later.
He wished to see all religion put away from France,
and liberty, equality, and mirth established.
"I am beginning to read the Bible, my young
friend," said the Surgeon, "and let me urge you to
do likewise. If all the people would read it, the
church would soon be reformed."
Berthelot refused to open the New Testament.
He knew that it would teach him the need of a more
moral life, and he wished no restraints to be put
upon his conscience or his conduct. His friend left,
and he went to a breakfast which proved to him the
providence of a mother's love. He felt ashamed of
the way in which he had spent the previous day,
and yet he went on spending many other days in
the same manner. Often did he stroll down to the
river to see if the waterman could be found.
A few weeks had passed, when he was at work on
his bench, and suddenly heard a great, clangour of
the bells of Notre Dame. "A heretic is going to
the stake," said he, "and I will run and see him."
He was soon in front of the Old Cathedral of " Our
Lady," (Notre Dame,) but finding no procession
there, he rushed on to the public square called the
Gr4ve. Doctors and monks were there in abundance,
and a great crowd of people. At length the archers
came, and the cart with the victim in it. "It is the
waterman," said Berthelot, with intense excitement,
starting forward through the guards. Lances were




MADNESS FOR IMAGES.-           1
raised, bows were drawn, orders were given to arrest
him, but he escaped the blows that would have
levelled him, and shouted, "You are burning an inrnocent man."
"Strike him down," cried an officer. The guards
seemed only to strike each other. The order was
changed, "hold, hold!" for they were as likely to
wound the prisoner as Berthelot. If they should
kill the waterman, they could not have the pleasure
of burning him.
"Do you know me?" asked Berthelot, as he
seized the hand of the Christaudin.  "Those boatsongs-do you remember?"
"Surely I do," and they fell into each other's
arms. The guards dared not interfere, for the
people were almost ready to rise up against them,
and rescue the prisoner, and what was best of all
was friar Bernard was in the cart.
"Did you think that I had anything to do in your
arrest?" said Berthelot.
"I now am sure you had not; pardon me for
having had a little suspicion of you, I am glad
that I can die with this awful thought off my
mind."
"I can't release you from this horrible death,
can I do anything to comfort you?"
"I die happy. I am  only stepping into my
chariot of fire. But if I could hear that full round
voice again!""You shall hear it, if I am not killed on the spot,
2*




18         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
Listen at the right time."  They pressed each
other's lips, and clung hand in hand together, until
forced to separate. The awful ceremonies were performed; the Christian seemed to forget the. injustice
of the charges read against him, and employed all
his last breath in telling the people of that Saviour
who was crucified for them. The fire was kindled,
the martyr felt its horrors, and amid the groans of
the crowd, he could hear one clear voice singing
aloud to cheer him, and the last sight he had in this
world, was that of the noblest face which, that day,
was almost blistered by the flames. The words
were improvised; the tune led the officers to think,that it was a song to the Virgin Mary. Friar
Bernard knew better, but he was secretly rejoicing in the firm faith of the Christian, who was
put to death because he would not adore the excellent Mother of Jesus as equally glorious with her
divine Son.
The artless boatman was probably deceived, with
the idea that Berthelot had read the Testament and
become a true believer. There was no piety in his
breast; nothing but a heroic hatred of cruelty and a
pity for the sufferer. Yet the martyr's prayer must
have risen for his friend. Would that prayer ever
be answered?
Berthelot was the ring-leader of too large a number of young men to fail of winning admiration.
They gathered about him on the streets, they flattered
him in the shop, they made suppers for him at the




MADNESS FOR IMAGES.            19
taverns, and they cheered him for his wit, his vulgar
songs, and his bold speeches. "A  clever fellow
with a big heart;" they said, " he breaks off from us
the shackles of the priests, and teaches us how to be
free and how to enjoy life." His head was completely turned; he dreamed of raising up a party of
young men who would be able to rush forth and stop
the burning of a man on the Grdve, just as a firecompany would quench the flames of a house on
fire.
" Go on, Berthelot," they shouted; " you are safe.
The Bedists will not burn you, for they know that
you live too freely and loosely ever to be a heretic.
Only righteous men are put to death; rakes are
kindly spared."
"Yes; but every one of you deserves the rod;
you know it. You make fools of yourselves just
because I do;" Berthelot would reply, for he delighted in lecturing them occasionally, in order to
soothe his own conscience and to hold their respect.
" You must not go too far. You must make it appear
beautiful and enticing to lead our kind of a life,
Keep an eye on every young man who comes to Paris.
Cultivate him; whisper of the liberal ideas, and if
he loves free-thinking and free-living, draw him into
our band."
It was often said that Berthelot knew everybody,
and that everybody in his quarter talked about him
and his exploits. Some spoke with admiration,
others with fear. He equally courted pleasures and




20         YOJNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
quarrels, and rushed into a strife as soon as any
discussion arose, nor did he often cease his fray until
he was the proud victor.  His impulses led' him to
do some of the best and some of the worst of human
deeds.




A NEW STATUE.              21
CHAPTER II.
A NEW STATUE.
"WELL, I've got rid of that m nk again; he
must suppose I am worth a great deal of attention.
I'll tell him next time what I think of his religion.
Perhaps he will admire my shrewdness in pretending
to have an errand, so as not to have him sit and talk
to me. I will turn in and see the young Sculptor a
moment, and then hurry back to finish the shoes for
that brilliant fellow of Noyon."
Such were some of Berthelot's whispers as he
dodged. away from Friar Bernard, who was intent
upon winning young men to the church of St. Saviour,
in July, 1529. The friar was earnest, gentlemanly,
and social. If Berthelot had sat on his bench and
listened to the good man, he would not have found
him -a troublesome visitor. And if the monk had
found that the young shoemaker could keep a secret,
he would have told him something about the Bible
and Luther's books, which the Milon family had
never known.
Berthelot went into the statuary shop, where he
heard the chisel of Vallette clicking upon the marble




22-        YOUNG CALVIIN IN PARIS.
in the next room. Passing by a beautiful statue of
the Virgin Mary, without bowing to it, he said,
"How goes on Pte work?"
"Oh I am discouraged; I can never copy that
model made by Michael Angelo. I find myself
adoring it, and the chisel drops from my hand. I
have had it set in the other room, that I may not see
it so much, and then I may be less disgusted with
my mean efforts."
"Absurd modesty! Angelo may come along one
of these days and give you a better opinion of your
own genius. But if your image were as little like
the original as a post, it would be good enough for
the purpose intended."
"What! do you call it an image."
" Certainly I do. What else is it?  It is a piece
of idolatry, meant to catch eyes and hearts of superstitious people, who will bow to it and worship it,
or do worse and make a goddess of Mary. I do not
lift my hat to the exquisite model."
"My friend, I fear you have fallen into the
heresy."
"Not at all; yet I know how the people, whose
religion is that of the eye and the eir, the hands
and the knees, will brand me. The Sorbonne is
telling their spies,'Keep watch for heretics. If any
man does not lift his cap before an image, he is a
heretic. If he hears the Ave Maria bell, and does
not bow down, he is a heretic.' But mark you, a.nan may live as a rake and he is no heretic. This




A NEW STATUE..2
is& what disgusts me with the hot-headed defenders
of Popery."
Vallette tapped on the marble, and put a finger
-across his lips, in token of silence. A trowel was
heard tingling on a new wall just by the door that
opened into the marble-yard. The artist applied
his chisel, and Berthelot his tongue, saying, "Your
image will not get a bow from me, when it is set up
in St. Saviour's, and if the priests don't like it they
can burn me."
"Did you ever see a man burned?"
"Enough of men to please the most devout. I
saw that good nobleman, Louis Berquin, last April,
go up amid smoke and cloud from the front of Notre
Dame, and the crime was horrible enough to have
provoked an earthquake that would not have left
one stone of the old Cathedral upon another. He
was the most learned man of the nobility; he believed in freedom for himself and for all France.
The tyrants tried to prove that he had a hand in
mutilating the image of Mary, last year.  There
never was a more virtuous man. Let them go on,
sparing us profligates, and hunting up the pious;
let them arrest,' condemn, quarter, crucify, burn,
and behead; pirates can do this, and none but fiends
will do it, but, if there be a just Judge over all,
these persecutors must suffer."
Berthelot looked around after this outburst, for
the trowel was silent, and there in the door, stood a.bricklayer, with mouth agape, and eyes staring at




24         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
the speaker. The poor man- was astonished at
hearing such words in that shop, and especially by
the shoe-maker whom he had seen at work on his
bench, as he passed that way. He could not have'forgotten the fine countenance, and he took courage
when he found himself partly recognized. Said he,
"Do not fear me; I will not report you."
"I know you won't," replied Berthelot, "for you
are a greater heretic than I am. Where did I see
you going last night after dark?"
"I went to spend an hour with some friends."
"Aha!  I know your friends. Fine thing for a
bricklayer to be a friend of the merchant La Forge,
and of Du Bourg, the draper!  That's more than
we shoemakers and sculptors are allowed to enjoy.
I shall have to get me a trowel and a hod."
"It is not my poor trade that makes them my
friends."
I" No; and you would not dare tell your master what
it is. Very pleasant little meetings you have there,
I suppose. Perhaps you will let me come and sing
for you. They are gospellers, I believe. Are you
one?"
"Not any more of a gospeller than is the Lady
Margaret, Queen of Navarre."
"So you put yourself on a level with the noble,
brilliant, generous and pious queen! She is the
grandest woman in France. She believes in liberty
for you poor Christians, and would like to quench
the fires on the Grdve with her tears. If it be a




A NEW STATUE.               25
moral duty to reduce heretics to ashes, why don't
these men, who thirst for Christian blood as they do
for strong wine, swing her over a slow fire?  She
has more influence and leads more people to the
Bible than all you harmless Christaudins put together. Let them burn down the tree, and you
poor branches will wither by the heat. Beda should
not draw such nice distinctions between the lofty
and-the lowly. He is very partial in his favours.
Let him either strike all or spare all good Chris —
tians."
" May Heaven defend the noble' queen, and save
her from the stake 1" exclaimed the bricklayer, who
always heard fervent prayers for Margaret at the
little meetings in the houses of La Forge, and other
Christians of humbler life in the Latin quarter.
"Yes, you would rather burn yourself. I admire
your choice. I wish Heaven might increase her
power, for if she was in the place of her brother,
King Francis, we would have none of our houses
searched, nor any more Bible-readers led to the
stake. But do you think she cares to notice you?
I tell you, when you burn she won't be there. She
could not save even the lordly Berquin. Don't
imagine that when a poor bricklayer goes into the
flames, you will attract much attention."
The humble man shuddered at the levity of these
words and with'the fear they excited, but with
trembling lips and starting tears he said. "You
may laugh at me, if you like, or try to frighten me,
3




26         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
yet I do not trust in the friendships of this world. I
have a friend greater than all the great."
"Pardon me; I was too rude. But please tell us
what you think of the Virgin Mary. That is the
test of everything in these days."
"I think she was an excellent woman, a good
wife, a tender mother and a faithful disciple of her
divine Son. I think she was a sinner by nature, and
nothing but grace made her a saint. At least, so I
read."
"In what?"  The artist was startled to hear
Mary called a sinner, by nature; he was now standing with his eyes fixed upon the bricklayer, and
trying to frown down what seemed to him a horrid
blasphemy.
"Come now," continued Berthelot, "you have
betrayed yourself. You mean the Testament. I
dare say you have one hidden in the rubbish there.
Some day your master will wonder why your trowel
is not ringing, and he will slip through that door and
catch you reading it; look out then for Beda. But
trust me; I'll not turn informer. Now tell us where
you go to church?"
"I go to St. Saviour's."
"Then you will have a chance to bow to this
image one of these days, or burn for not bowing,
unless Friar Bernard can save you. Do you know
him?"
" Ie is my confessor-that is-when I have any."
"Then you can tell him that you keep company




A NEW STATUE.              27
with that young Noyon Student, who is so pale and
thin, and whose light burns in his study later than
even such rakes as I am walk the streets. I don't
know his name, but he goes to your little meetings,
and Friar Bernard will be there yet. But you must
be at work. Conversation will be heresy before
very long, and you must keep your tongue cold in
secresy, and your neighbour must keep his chisel
hot under the hammer. Be guarded against spies
at your little gospel meetings, or you will soon cease
to be Anthony Poille, of Meaux."
The bricklayer was amazed that Berthelot knew
his name. The sculptor could not have told it,
although for days they had been drinking from the
same pitcher, and each had listened to the music of
the other's toil.
" You knew the waterman," said Berthelot. "I
saw you looking at him when he was burned. Had
he any family?"
" A wife and two little children."
"Poor enough I'm sure. How do they live?"
"We help them as much as we can."
"I understand: you collect something for them
at the little meetings. Your Testament somehow
makes people very charitable. When did she see
her husband for the last time?"
c" On the morning of the day that he was seized.
She waited long for him at dinner, but he never
came."
" Was no visit granted her when he was in prison?."




28         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
"She was driven from the gate with a threat."
"I can imagine the rest. Take that and buy her
a Testament." The bricklayer picked up a crown.
"Take that and give her to buy whatever she wished
her husband to purchase for the children." Three
crowns lay on the floor. " Tell her to bring her
children and see the man who sang for the martyred
waterman while he was burning, and he will make
each of them a pair of shoes."
"She will be very grateful-."
"Don't you let her send her thanks by you: I
want her to come and bring them herself. I've a
good reason for it. Now let us hear your trowel, or
you may be turned off to starve."
Anthony went to his work, thinking that of all the
mysterious beings he had ever met, this man was the
strangest, and this was just the impression that Berthelot sought to produce. Thus he often appeared;
now heartless, now all heart; at one moment asking
in levity, " How would you like to be burned?" and
the next draining his purse to bless an unknown
widow and her little ones.
" Now you see if he does not lay up more bricks
to-day than he did yesterday," said Berthelot to the
Sculptor.
"Berthelot," said the artist, looking him in the
face, " You might be as good a man as walks the St.
Martin."
"IHo! don't I know that? You might as well
tell me that I have black eyes and a Frenchman's




A NEW STATUE.               29
face. Friar Bernard was broaching that delicate
theme this morning, and I expect the Noyon student
will give me the same hint when he finds that my
revels have spoiled his shoes. I have heard him
debating with Professor Cop on the law and the
mass and holy relics, as they passed by our shop.
One day they talked a long time at the door, and he
kept telling the professor what'" Paul says in Romans," and I should like to know if Paul did not
write a book on law and against the pope."
"You must be far gone not to know who Paul
was! He was a great Saint, next to St. Peter."
"That can't be the Paul they were speaking of,
or else he is quite a different saint from any in your
calendar. Why, I should suppose that the Noyon
man considered him a fierce opposer of such a church
as we see in our day."
"Did you never see his statue?  Come here, for
it is time that you knew something of him." They
went into the front room, and stood before three fine
statues.  One was that of Mary, to which Berthelot
had not bowed, and as Vallette looked devoutly at
it he said "Ave Maria."
"' Come now, let us have none of your devotions
here," said Berthelot, who almost fancied the marble
breathing a sigh of pity. " I admire it as a work of
art, but I will not adore it as an idol."
"The statue on the left is that of St. Peter, the
founder of our holy Church, with the keys in his
hand."
3e




-30        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
"Ah! and you would have the keys used to lock
up good-Christians in prison until the weather is (Iry
enough to make the green wood burn on the Gr6ve.
Don't tell me that St. Peter looks down and smiles
upon the scene. I'll have to send the Noyon man
here to tell you that St. Peter was never a pope, if
he was even a bishop. I heard him say that much,
for shoemakers are not deaf when doctors talk at
their doors. But where is St. Paul?"
"' There on the right: our grouping would be complete if the Virgin was seated on a throne as the
queen of heaven, instead of standing as the Madonna,
between the two apostles."
" And I imagine that if she were enthroned, Paul
would take that sword, which he has, and drive her
down from the royal seat, where the Lord alone
should reign. But what is that book in his hand?'"
"The Missal, I suppose."
"The Bible, I rather suspect, or else the great
Law Book of the Romans, from which the young
Noyonese took his best sayings. I'll inquire at the
book-stalls for that old volume, and go to studying
law. What if I should turn out to be a lawyer one
of these years-the rival of young Viermey, the
elegant horseman! Would it not be fine to have the
Noyon Student sit by my bench and give me lectures, while I drove pegs in his boots!"
"' I fear you are too much with the students already.
They toach you to ridicule holy things."
"Better say that I teach them that art. I excel




A NEW STATUE.              31
them in it, for I was born with it in me, and they
are a timid set, afraid of the priests, and in the
leading strings of the doctors."
"But you seem to be a favourite among them."
"I make myself so. I ferret out a young man as
soon as he comes into the Latin quarter, and show
him the places of amusement. I make more shoes
for them than the most devout catholic. But I
detest them. They look down on me when they
enter my shop, and order me about as their meanest
servant. They will rise in the world, and we will be
so low as to make their shoes for them. They will
become great lawyers, and doctors, and fat bishops,
and scarlet-capped cardinals, while we will remain
poor hirelings-only you will be a great artist. I
grow angry when I think I am nothing but a shoemaker's son, but I take my revenge on the students
by leading them into the follies and profligacies of
the city."
"Bad business; you are ruining yourself. I do
not see why a shoemaker may not be as good as
anybody. Just quit your free-thinking and your
wild exploits, and if the Noyon student, whom you
so much admire, can teach you anything to make
you a sober man, listen to him. Only be guarded
against heresy."
The artist returned to his work and plied his chisel
again, for he had no time to lose. He felt somewhat more encouraged, after what his singular visitor
-had said, and he hoped that the poorer people might




32         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
see some beauty in his statue when it should be
placed near the confession-box of Friar Bernard.
Perhaps they would, at least, understand whom it
was meant to represent, and bow before it, not of
course for its sake, but for the sake of the " glorious
mother."  A priest entered the door as Berthelot
went out. Their eyes met and spoke a little volume
of fire to each other, but they both were too haughty
for the least nod of their proud heads. They had
met when the waterman was burned, and as Berthelot was singing, the priest had struck him on the
lips. The shoemaker had booked the account for a
future settlement, when they should meet at one of
13erthelot's masked balls.
Tielly, the priest, began to tell the Sculptor of
the latest miracles performed by the broken image
that had been removed from the St. Antoine quarter
to the Church of St. Germain. A child that had
not lived through its first day, in this world, was
brought before the headless image; the colour of the
little dead face changed to a live flush; the mother
fancied that its hands grew warm, and its heart was
beating; it was baptized and then died the second
time! The poor woman was comforted in thinking
that Mary had taken it to heaven. But Tielly had
something more wonderful to relate, and he said, "A
priest was preaching there last Sunday, and when
describing the sorrows of the Virgin, he looked at
the broken image and exclaimed,' Hark! I hear the
glorious Mother sighing over the treatment she re



A NEW STATUE.               88
ceives.' The audience started up and saw the statue
trembling."
"Did you see it?"
"No; and between you and me I doubt whether
any one else did. It was a new sensation, planned
beforehand. If the statue can work miracles, why
don't it repair itself and appear some morning fully
restored to its original perfection."
"What is to become of us when you priests turn
infidels?' asked Vallette, and the reply was, " Trick
the people out of their money and then spend it in a
gay life as we do. Only dupes are serious in these
days."




84         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
CHAPTER III.
TEE  TITTLE MIEETINGS.
ON the way to his shop Berthelot fell in with a
bird of his own feather. It was Robert Daniel, a
young brother of the celebrated lawyer, Francis
Daniel at Orleans. He had come to Paris to see
the world, and the shoe-maker was able to lead him
into some of its darkest corners. As they had not
met for some time, they had much to relate, and
having told of a few late frays, Berthelot inquired,
"Has your sister really taken the veil?"
-"Yes, and the giddy creature will find that she
has made a great mistake. She loves the world as
much as I do, but her teachers made her believe
that it was a very romantic thing to bury herself in
a nunnery."
" She would have found much more romance in
our lively circles. It grieves me to think that I shall
never dance with her again, unless I break into the
convent some night and bring her out into freedom.
Why did not her friends reason with her?"
" That is all the trouble. They reasoned in the
wrong way. They persuaded her to be a nun.
Even my brother, the advocate, did not oppose it, if




TIHE LITTLE MEETINGS.         35
she would only take the veil willingly and not by
constraint."
"What could have possessed them?"
"I can tell you. It was their fear that she would
become a heretic. She was an ardent admirer of
the Queen of Navarre, and they began to write
letters to each other. The queen sent her a Testament and some of her religious poems. My sister
could not keep from showing them, and then her
teachers began with their crafty arts."
"' Just tell me when you learn that she is tired of.her gloomy cage, and I will find a way to let the
bird go free," said Berthelot on reaching the door
of his shop. Robert would have gone on, but a
glance showed him that the older Milon was out
and young Coiffard was in, waiting for just such a
meeting as these three bosom friends desired.
"Well, Berthelot, if you would give less time to
balls and more to your bench, you would earn better
wages. You will not have my slippers done in time
for our next grand dance."
"Robert, please reduce this fellow's wrath, and
then I will talk to him," said Berthelot, as he prepared himself for work. He sat down on his bench,
took up a shoe that was nearly finished, and applied
himself to it until the toil bedewed his brows. His
visitors watched him and foolishly thought that it
was a disgrace for so fine a looking young man to
be the poor servant of a shoe-hammer.
"For what student are you making those?"




836        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
asked Coiffard.  "I see they are in the university
style."
"I don't know his name," replied Berthelot, rapping away in earnest.  "He was once here undei
Master Mathurin Cordier, and afterwards was in
Montaigu College, but he was so timid and studious
that I thought him out of my reach. He is now here
<again; a short, slender, pale, serious-looking man of
about twenty, who walks with Professor Cop and
talks like a learned doctor. As Cop's father is
physician to the King, I dare say this Noyon man
will be high chancellor before many years-if he is
not too great a heretic."
" I know him," said the two visitors both at once.
"And you like him too, I fancy. He is as neat
in his dress as a prince, and as precise in his talk
as if he had studied logic all his life," said Berthelot. " He can tell a man just how he wants his
work made, and in as elegant language as if he were
delivering the farewell of his class to the faculty."
" He was born to be a scholar," added Coiffard,
who was crowding in his praises. "Why, up at
Noyon, they made him a chaplain when twelve years
old, shaved his head and gave him a small benefice.
Two years ago they gave him a parish, but he is too
much of a scholar ever to be a priest. Last year
he studied law at Orleans, and was so learned that
the professors used to invite him to lecture in their
place. I heard him, and he was brilliant. I often
met him, Robert, at the house of your brother.




THE LITTLE MEETINGS.           37
"He is the man who went with Professor Cop to
the nunnery to learn whether my sister was perfectly
willing to take the veil," said Robert.  "It was my
brother's request, and if she had not been so deluded
she would have escaped with him. But she spoke
of her vows, with as much levity, as if she were
playing with her doll. If Francis had trusted me
with his errand, I would have brought her away,
however the nuns might have howled."
"Why don't you tell us his name?" asked Berthelot.
"It is John Calvin.  Orleans will long have
anecdotes to tell about him," added Coiffard. "One
day, after a lecture by the great star of the law,
(Pierrel'Etoile,) he walked up and down the hall
with the other students who were glad to see him
becoming less bashful and more familiar. Pulling
out his knife, he went up to a pillar, and carved a
C, then an A, then an L, and so on until the word
CALVIN stood out boldly for priests to scoff at in
future time, because he will be a dreadful heretic if
he escapes Beda and his detectives."
"A  first-rate heretic already," said Berthelot,
"for I have seen him going to La Forge's little
meetings."
" Those little meetings are no new thing," Robert
hastened to say. "Calvin began them at Orleans.
He tried to persuade me into them, but it was too
serious a business for my taste. He would have
changed all my fine plans for pleasure. The fact is
4




38         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
nobody can withstand him when he has the Bible in
his hand."
"He did not put himself forward," said Coiffard.
"The students and towns-people begged him to come
and teach them. He was abashed. He tried to
hide away in the libraries or along the banks of the
river. But they followed him, and he was compelled to say,'All my hiding-places are turned into
schools.' Then the citizens urged him into their
houses, where he explained the Scriptures. He afterwards went to Bourges and taught in private
houses," and in the neighbouring castles and villages."
"He is the man for me," said Berthelot. "When
I conclude to become sober I must send for him."' Send for him! You assume a vast importance,"
said Robert, with a boisterous laugh.
"I'll go to the little meetings, then, and hear
him."
"You did not know how near I came to having
him for a companion," said Coiffard. "My father
thought it would be a fine plan to keep me out of
such wild company as the present."
"A very desirable thing, if you had the good
sense to perceive it," remarked Berthelot, rather
dryly.
"I happened' to see him at the inn the day he
arrived, a few weeks since. My father and I went
I-o invite him to take lodgings at-our house. Of
course, I entreated him, and I never knew father




THE LITTLE MEETINGS.          39
beg so hard for a guest. But he was not to be persuaded."
"He knew you too well," Berthelot rejoined,
holding up the shoe that he had finished, as a specimen of his best skill. "He didn't wish the job of
taming such a fractious colt."
"He wanted to lodge nearer the school, where he
could attend Professor Dan4s' Greek course. So I
was not caught in that net, and was left free to
choose you profligates for my genial companions."
"I am glad you appreciate us," said Berthelot,
" and we must try to hold you under good influences.
You will go with us to one of the gospel meetings, I
suppose?"
"Certainly; name the time."
" To-night; I'll find out the place. Be here early.
But remember that there must be no unfair play, no
spying, no informing. If we should be tortured by
Beda, there must not be one word extorted from us
against those harmless people. I do not want to
believe as they do, but I'd rather be broken on the
wheel than inform on one poor man who would be
certain to go to the flames."
"I don't propose to go," said Robert, who was
cautious of meeting Calvin, for he suspected that his
brother had urged him to seek this lost sheep and
send him back to Orleans. After some debate, and
the pledge of his two friends that they would certainly be at the coming ball, he consented to the
plan.




40         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
At the sign of the Pelican in the rue de St. Martin, lived the merchant La Forge.  He was one who
could be diligent in business and fervent in spirit,
serving the Lord. Noble, tender-hearted, and generous, his neighbours wondered whether he would
not share all that he had with the poor, and at
length come to poverty.  "I am  thankful," he
would say, "for all the blessings that God has bestowed upon me, and I will not be sparing of my
wealth, either to comfort the needy or to spread the
glorious gospel."  He printed the Scriptures at his
own expense, and gave copies along with his liberal
alms.  The poor all had a refuge at the Pelican.
"We will be glad to see you at our house tonight," he would say to the lowly disciples who
made their little purchases; "but it is not my feast,
it is the great supper of the King, to which I invite
you.' 
"But I have no better shoes than these," or
"this is the only coat I've got," they would say,
" and I am not worthy to enter under your roof."
"Jesus says,'Come unto me.' The Spirit and
the bride say, Come. Let him that heareth say,
Come, and take of the water of life freely. The King
will say, Bring forth the best robe and put it on him,
and put shoes on his feet."
In this way the little meetings were appointed.
At one meeting there was no notice of the time or
place of the next, lest the officers might send their
spies or their soldiers to the spot. Privately the




TIIE LITTLE MEETINGS.         41
word was whispered about, or a scarlet thread was
carelessly yet carefully dropped at the door, caught
on a post, or hung out of a window, as from the
house of Rahab in the olden time. This thread had
told Berthdlot of the intended meeting at La Forge's,
but the whole Inquisition could not have made him
reveal the secret. The prudent wife had everything
in readiness so that even the prying busy-body, who
had called, and who put herself in the way of an invitation to supper, did not suspect what was going
on.
"' How shall we get rid of her?" whispered the
good wife to her husband, when it began to grow
dark.  "It will not do to have her here at the
meeting, she is such a gossip."
" Let me manage it," he replied. So, entering
the room, he said to her, " You were telling us of
a poor woman, whom you feared had nothing to eat.
I want to send something to her, and as every hour
may seem very long to her, I, perhaps, should send
my errand-boy at once. Can you tell the house?"
" No, let me carry it. Of course I did not expect you to do what her nearest neighbours should
be doing. It is very kind in you, and what we do
we must do quickly. Certainly I'll carry it. I
am always glad to give alms"-especially when
others furnish them, she might have added. She
went with quite a variety of charities, and very likely.presented them as her own gifts. Thus the way was
clear. One by one the people began to assemble.
4 *




42         YOUNG CALVIN' IN PARIS.
At precisely the right moment, a young man left
his room in the college of Fortret; passed two or
three doors in the Latin quarter, where he saw the
scarlet thread somewhere in front of the houses;
stepped briskly over the island, and, as he glanced
at the towers of Notre-Dame, felt like going to the
spot and pouring forth his grief over the burning
of Berquin; and went northward up the street of
St. Martin, until he came to the crossing of the
great boulevard that reaches from the church of
the Madeleine. He had met the bricklayer in the
best suit that he could afford; there was little chance
to talk, for the people were crowding down from St.
Dennis', and there might be spies among them.
"I'll soon be there," said Anthony Poille, and they
parted.
The student saw that the street was not clear at
the sign of the Pelican, and made a little circuit
through other streets, nervously calling up again
the points on which he would speak at the meeting.
He saw others strolling as he was, knew them and
their purpose, but scarcely greeted them. Coming
round to the Pelican, he entered the house of La
Forge, and was warmly saluted as John Calvin.
" This way for a moment,'" said the merchant,
leading him into a side room.  "We must be cautious to-night. I sent a man to St. Dennis' this
evening, and he heard a priest exciting the hearers
against us, and quite nearly pointing out our meeting-places. We must change the signal."




THE LITTLE MEETINGS.           43
"Let it be a green straw with a knot tied in it,
and left in some nook about the door, or an egg
broken on the pavement, or, where there is a little
yard in front, let three roses or lilies be partly
broken, so as to hang drooping. Let all these be
employed."
"Just the thing; I will whisper the signs to the
faithful. Delay a while; the people are wary and
late, and please be short." La Forge was busy
sending the chairs and benches from the parlours to
the remotest rooms of the house, for on a sudden
the place had been changed. Persons of almost
every calling and condition entered through different
doors. At length all intending to come were supposed to be present, except the bricklayer.
"I will read the psalm, but it must not be sung
to-night," said Calvin, as he began the services.
The exercises were those of a simple social prayermeeting. One or two men drew forth refreshing
words from the hidden depths of their own experience to comfort those who were tempted or tried,
in fear or affliction. - But all were looking for the
rising of "the young expounder" as they called
him.
Calvin rose, modestly, timidly, and with a trembling
of the hand that: held his Bible. He looked like
one who had been fasting in order to feast on the
riches of learning.  His eye was a bright lamp
when turned upon the Scripture page. Not many
months before, that Bible was unknown by him,




44         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
now, every leaf bore marks of study, if not of
tears. He glanced at his hearers, who filled every
space that he could see. It was the largest meeting
he had attended. There sat or stood poor women,
who had toiled all day long for bread; servants,
who had waited, unsuspected, at tables where fierce
persecutors had dined and vented their threats over
their wine; coachmen, who had thrown off the liveryworn when they drove their masters to parliament to sit on the trial of a man that would never
be at these meetings again; labourers, whose hands
were roughened by the hammer, the trowel, and the
spade; salesmen, who covertly sold a Testament to
a. known customer; students, who once had come
to scoff, but now came to pray, with a few tutors
from the colleges; physicians, whose dying patients
had first taught them the gospel, and two or three
men somewhat learned in the law. The noble face
of Surgeon Pointet was seen farthest back in the
hall, reminding Calvin of Luke, the beloved physician.
The text was read —" Fear not, little flock; for
it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the
kingdom." It went like a reviving cordial to many
a wounded and fearful heart.  "It is the Good
Shepherd, who says this," remarked Calvin, as he
entered upon a description of " the great Shepherd
of the sheep." A slight noise was heard; the faces
of three men were seen near Surgeon Pointet, and
Calvin.hesitated. All eyes were turned, and some




THE LITTLE MEETINGS.'          45
could see the shoemaker, whose face they admired,
but whose hand they feared, and his two scoffing
associates. La Forge was not a little confused.
Berthelot saw that he was not quite welcome, and
whispered, "I pledge you that we have come with
no ill intent, and that we are under an oath of
secrecy."
The Surgeon nodded to Calvin, and to increase
his assurance, the short quiet bricklayer contrived
to make his face visible, by stretching up on tip-toe,
and his smile was a telegram, saying, "I brought
them here." Berthelot felt humbled in his own estimation, by the suspicion he had drawn on himself,
and quite sorry that he had excited so much fear.
The three young men would have left, but the silence
was only for a moment.
"Yes, the Good Shepherd tells you, Fear not little
flock," Calvin resumed. " Not yet do we find grievous
wolves entering among us to devour, but if we did,
the Shepherd can save. He is the Saviour."  The
Saviour was represented, seeking the lost, gathering
his flock, and laying down his life for the sheep.
Berthelot was glad to know that he was not pointed
out as a wolf, and before the true cross he may have
stood beholding, wondering, and ready to exclaim
with the Centurion, "Verily, this was the Son of
God!"
"Although there are no wolves among you, yet
do you all belong to the little flock of Christ?" was
Calvin's close question to his hearers; and Berthelot




46         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
felt the speaker's burning eye, as he told them how
to decide the question, and proved to them that this
flock was the true Church, that the "gates of hell
should not prevail against it;" that deadly persecution only sent the true sheep to the great fold in
heaven, and that faith in Jesus was victor over every
fear.  " Enough that you have such a Shepherd and
such a fold," said he, "but you have more. You
have a Father and a Father's house. You have a
Kingdom, and therefore a King. You have your
Father's good pleasure towards you and in you. If
it be his good pleasure that we suffer with Jesus, we
shall also reign with him. The martyrs are reigning
with him now. Your homes may be desolate, but
heaven is being peopled. Your tears may fall, but
they are singing the song of the redeemed. You
are bereaved, but they are glorified."
One poor woman drew Berthelot's attention. He
suspected that she was the widow of the martyred
waterman. Her head was bowed down with the
burden of her awful memories, until she heard of
the victory, and the reign, and the glory of the martyrs; then turning her face heavenward and folding
her hands, she seemed as a breathing statue of resignation. Berthelot would never forget that counte,
nance. The lively, active, intelligent Coiffard was
also deeply moved by what he saw and heard. If
any heart was not yet touched, it must have been
thrilled as Calvin ended with the passage in which are
the words, "If God be for us, who can be against us?'




THIE LITTLE MEETINGS.         47
After a fervent prayer, especially for "those who
were yet reserved for the trial by fire and the victory
by death," a notice was given that the families of
several martyrs were in need of help, and that they
should not be forgotten during the next week.
"Pass around your hat," said Berthelot to the
bricklayer, loudly enough for almost all to hear.
Anthony hesitated. "If you don't I will."  The
bricklayer saw that Surgeon Pointet approved, and
others began to extend their hands. Berthelot contributed as if he had forgotten what he had given in
the morning, and left himself nothing to squander,
had he been inclined to spend his midnight in a
tavern.
Through different doors the people left the house.
The three young men were in the advance, and began
to tell what they thought of the services, when they
met a man who was prowling about to make his discoveries. Berthelot stopped; looking the man in
the face he asked, "Do you know that I am no
heretic?"
"Certainly I do. Don't I meet you at the
balls?"
" Then cease your spying in these quarters. Cannot I and my friends have a social evening in any
way we think best, without your eye being upon us?
March home and tell your master that Berthelot
Milon and his friends have spent an hour in a very
pleasant way, and let them make the most of it."'" If I may judge the whole company by the speci



48         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
mens now before me, there is nothing to concern
Beda. Good night."
"No, you are not off in that direction. Come
with us."  The spy joined them, and on the way
they said not a word about the sermon. The report
to Beda's agent was, " It was only a short meeting
of Berthelot and his friends." The Christians would
not have justified this prevarication. Instead of thescarlet thread at the sign of the Pelican, the Christians must look for the knotted straw at the sign of
the Black Horse.




CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.           49
CHAPTER IV.
CRIPPLED FOR LIZFE.
AMUSEMENT has often been fatal to religious
convictions. Whatever good impressions Berthelot
and his associates received at the place of prayer,
were lost in the house of mirth. We can imagine
how they talked by day and caroused at night. Calvin had given them up as almost hopeless, and for
months had seen little of them.
"Well, what do you think," said Robert, one day
in January, as he entered the shoe-shop. "Your
model of excellence has invited me to dine with him
to-morrow, and to hide the trap he has asked me to
bring Coiffard along. Don't you feel slighted?"
"Not in the least. Calvin would look well having
his cobbler to dine with him. You two gentlemen
have been well educated-or as well as you were
willing to be. The air was full of learning and you
had only to breathe it. If you do not have anything: to say, you ought to be so accomplished as to
keep silent and enjoy his: conversation."
"I do not propose to enjoy it. He wishes to read
me a lecture on self-destruction."
"Which might be very useful to you."
5




.50        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
"I suspect my half-heretic brother has been setting him upon me. Not long ago he took a long
walk with me to renew his persuasions. He said
that if I would not enter on a new course of study,
I ought to return to Orleans. I told him it was utterly vain to urge that advice, and finally cut him
so short that he was silenced. I thought that I had
conquered him. He would part with me, however,
as if nothing had injured his feelings."
"His calmness was his victory. He knows that
such volcanoes as you are may be managed best by
letting them take their own time to cool. When the
lava had lost its heat, I suppose he trampled over
it and approached you again."
"No more strong figures of speech, if you please.
Yesterday he very politely hinted that we should
have a fair talk on the subject, and he asked me to
come and dine with him. It would give him great
pleasure; he meant that it would afford me great
profit."
"You will go, of course."
"Perhaps, if I do not go somewhere else." Robert then told of certain other plans that he had
suddenly formed.
The next day Calvin had a tempting dinner prepared, for, having done all he could to win the wild
youth, he now hoped to succeed in persuading him
to return home. The hour came, but no guests.
He waited and still waited. Then he sent a messenger to Robert's lodgings. "Ile has decamped,"




CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.            51.
said the landlord.  "He has left for Italy."  Calvin was grieved, and. discouraged in the attempt to
gain this class of young men. To throw off his
sadness, he, shortly after, took the winter air, and
made an exploring visit through the Latin quarter,
and explained the Bible to those, who met under the
shadow of the night in remote houses to worship
God. "The word of Christ is always a fire," they
said, "but when he explains it, the fire shines out
with unusual brilliancy." This part of the city was
afterwards called Little Geneva.
Three days before Good Friday, came the procession of the Fat Ox. The same thing had occurred
on a Sunday before Lent, but Berthelot was then
lying on a pile of leather, in sickening disgust from
his excesses during the Carnival.  His purse was
now empty and he was at work on his bench. He
heard the music and dropped his awl. A train of
butchers, dressed in fantastic styles, came marching
down the St. Martin as the body guard of a fat
beef. The ox was covered with embroidery and
laurel, and on him sat a child, called "king of the
butchers," decorated with a blue scarf, and holding.
in one hand a sword and in the other a sceptre.
Berthelot saw it all and summed up his opinion in
one strong word-"Nonsense!"
He cared nothing for Lent, and his social companions joined with him in his special efforts to keep
up their midnight revels during that season. It is
against my conscience to take any of my readers to X.




.52        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
ball; we will only go to an ancient door that once
shut a certain stairway from the street in the Latin
quarter. The time was five o'clock on a morning
long ago. The dancing and drinking, and what was
even worse, had been going on all night, among the
maskers. At the head of the stairs a fray had occurred. A tall, stately and free young man, whom
everybody knew by his graceful bearing, had been
narrowly watching an over-fed rough monk, who
had crept in under a mask, and for all that he was
quite as well known. The one was admired, the
other despised by the godless company. The monk
had taken pains to treat the dancers' favourite with
rudeness, whenever they met. At last he felt a
pull, his mask was snatched away, and a voice
shouted, "You are the monk that struck my face on
the Grdve, when the waterman was burned. You
warned the sculptor, Vallette, not to allow me his
friendship. But these are nothing. You take the
money of the poor, at the confession-box, and spend
it in these revels. You pretend to teach us reckless youths the beauty and glory of religion. Come,
show us your bloated face, and tell us how to be devout. Prove to us that your religion consists in
burning heretics and in playing the debauchee!"
The monk could say nothing. yet his anger consumed his shame. He was burly enough to hold
his own in a fight, and he flung himself against his
accuser.  They whirled each other about, and finally
went rolling down the stairs. An awful: wail- was




CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.           53
heard rising up from the pavement. The party
came rushing down in excitement. The monk had
fled. A crowded circle bent over the groaning man,
saying, "Poor, poor Berthelot!"
What priest?  What surgeon? were the questions that perplexed even the students who were
present.  It seemed as if dozens of messengers
were speeding for dozens of confessors and physicians, and yet really nobody was running upon
such an errand. A score of houses were proposed
where he might be taken, but there was no truly
good Samaritan in all the crowd whose sinful mirth
had been so suddenly changed to improvident mourning.
"We must take him home," said Coiffard. He
got his large coat, turned it into a sort of hammock,
by having a man hold each of the four corners, had
Berthelot laid in it, and led the bearers to the river
bank. It was then clear daylight. A frail, sorrowful woman was unlocking the chain of her little
boat, and it seemed the only one that would be
ready for half an hour. They were stepping into
it, when a scream of agony led one of them to say,
"Poor Berthelot! we can't help it. We will be as
careful as possible." He knew not one word that
was said. But the woman was surprised at that
name. It was engraven on her memory.
"Let me get some pillows," said she, dropping
her oar.
"It will take too long. The man will die before
5



54         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
we get him home," replied Coiffard, whose selfishness had prevented the growth of sympathy.
"It is only a few steps to my house," she answered, having already begun her race. Soon Ber.
thelot was pillowed softly in the boat; two men
were at the oars, and the woman was gazing on the
attractive face of the sufferer. He threw one hand
over into the water, and feeling its pleasant coolness
he smiled. She bathed the other hand; then moistened his temples and his whole face. His eyes resumed their naturalness, and were fixed on the kind
woman. There was joy in the little boat when he
said, " This is delightful rowing. How came I here?
Ah! don't tell me, I know it all.":  I am so glad that I came out this morning earlier than usual," said the voice of the tender woman.
" My children are well again, and I can earn something now."
" Are you not a C7ristaudine?" whispered Berthelot. She glanced at the company, and this was
answer enough. She was not sure that she had
rightly guessed at the man. There might be a score
of Berthelots, and she did not think that her benefactor would keep such company as had gathered
on the bank to see him in the boat.
" Slow, friends," said Berthelot, "row slowly;
let us enjoy the fresh air." They however persuaded him that the dampness might injure him,
and were soon at the landing.
"Why have you not come to have those shoes




CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.            55
made?" said Berthelot to the woman, and she then
fully knew who he was.  "I may never make any
more shoes, but if I take one of your soft pillows!
home' under- my aching head, will you come after
it?" His wits had evidently returned; he had a
scheme in his quick mind.
"Certainly, or if I do not, you are welcome to
it," she replied.
"Pay her double fare," was Berthelot's order,
most willingly fulfilled on the part of his companions, for the stingy Coiffard knew that none of it
would come from his purse.
"Your husband," whispered Berthelot, while the
others were preparing to carry him, "was a martyr
on the Greve; I sang for him when he was gaining
his last victory:. now I shall, perhaps, be a martyr
to my own follies and sins, and you must come and
cheer me in my righteous punishment."
"I do thank you for your kindnesses to me. It'
was only your money that kept my boat from being
sold," said the wife of the martyred waterman, in
broken words and with falling tears.  "May God
bless you"-.  The helpless man was borne away
in pain to his home, but the woman's sighs went
sounding in his ears, and grew softer as they mingled with his memories of her devotion at La Forge's,
and her gentleness in the boat, until they were to
him like the lingering music of a holy psalm.
What of Berthelot during the restless days and
sleepless nights of his agony?  Surgeon Pointet




543        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
exerted all his skill, doubting whether it were possible for the patient to recover. Friar Bernard was
absent, or he would have been called to afford instruction and comfort. In his stead was a priest
who held the rites of the Romish Church as altogether essential to salvation; a man who adored
the so-called Virgin Mary, and saw more virtue in
a crucifix than in the true cross of the crucified
Saviour.  The church, and not the Christ, was the
word ever on his lips.
"Oh if you could only be carried to St. Germain
and laid before the broken statue of the glorious
mother," said this priest, "you might be healed!"
"Nonsense!" was Berthelot's reply.  The subject was dropped. The confessor must try new
arts and more gentleness. Hie changed his tactics.
He even pretended to love the liberty of thought
that Berthelot had asserted, and to be utterly opposed to the burning of Christians.  "True they
are heretics," said he, "but they have a right to
life so long as God spares them." He pretended
to approve of the reading of the Bible, but yet was
careful never to read it to the sufferer.
Berthelot was not the man to be caught with
guile.  He simply endured the priest very much as
he endured the physician. Pointet could not induce
him to apply the remedies prescribed, and still he
had some happiness in seeing the surgeon coming
every day and often spending an hour in conversation. But all talk upon the gospel seemed in vain.




CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.            57
"I detest the priests for burning innocent people,"
he would say, "yet I will not be a Lutheran."
(This was the term applied to those who adhered to
the Bible and forsook the Roman church.) Then
at another time, when the priest was with him, he
would say, "I detest the new doctrines of these
gospellers, yet I abominate the lives of you priests."
All at once the surgeon stopped his visits. Berthelot missed him, for as he had been allowed only
two visitors, he liked Pointet far more than the
priest. "What is the use of his coming if you
will not take his remedies?" said his mother, whose
devotion to her pitiable son was untiring; "he has
taken some offence, but if you need a physician we
will send for Doctor Laval."
"I understand the offence," said Berthelot. "The
priest has interfered. He has alarmed you, lest the
good surgeon should teach me to believe as he does.
My father must deal honestly with me if he expects
to win me back to the religion that filled me with
zeal in my childhood."
"My dear son, we would give everything if you
would become again as devout""And as superstitious?"
"Please do not talk so. It was a comfort in
those days to see you cross yourself so gracefully,
and sprinkle yourself with the holy water at the
church door, and bow to the saints, and hedar your
sweet voice say the Ave Maria, and answer your
many, many questions about the mass and the sta



58          YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
tions. Do not call it superstition. It is our blessed
religion."
"If there is any true religion, it is far more than
all that."
"Surely it is; and if we are faithful to the
church, God will give us a great deal of merit for
doing what you think is of no account. Just think
how you have fallen from the faith of your fathers!
And now you are punished for saying such hard
things against the church and the priests and the
glorious mother."
"Perhaps I am, but I know of greater sins than
those, and it is much more likely that I am suffering
from them. Do not weep. Let us talk' of something more pleasant. Has that kind woman called
to get her pillow?"
"Yes, and we told her that no one could see you
until you were better."
" That is all that she came for-to see me. Why
did you not let me know of her call? I know when
it was. The priest was here at the time, and he
interfered.  Is he to rule over this house?"  Berthelot had hit upon the truth.  It must not be
pressed. The priest was again heard in the shop,
just beyond a thin partition.
"Has he asked you again to send for that heretic?" inquired the priest, of Milon the father.
"Yes, he constantly urges it.  He devises all
sorts of plans to get word to him. I think we must
yield a little in the case."




CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.            59
"Not one inch. Once introduce that man here,
and he will sit with that Lutheran Bible in his hand
and terrify your son into the most accursed doctrines. Better let him remain the veriest rake on
earth"-.
"What is that you say?" cried Berthelot, and
the priest entered the next room as bland and gentle
as a lamb, or rather a fox.  "I know of whom you
speak-young Calvin."
"I would not have you think so for one moment,"
the deceitful priest answered.  "Surely if it would
do you any good to see Calvin, you should be gratified."
" Then send for him."
"Of course we will, when the right time comes,
and when your mind is more calm, and when your
wise judgment has fully regained its former vigour."
It was only by force that Berthelot restrained his
tongue from exposing this hypocrisy and injustice.
As such tricks were daily brought to his notice, he
was becoming used to them.
Weeks wore slowly away, and Berthelot's injuries
grew worse. IHe had the use of scarcely any of his
members except his arms and his tongue. All the
rest "died little by little," as Crispin tells in his
iartyrs. And he became a helpless paralytic for
life. He, who had once been so proud of his beauty,
so admired as a favourite, so bold in his exploits,
and so eager for mirth, was now weak, broken-down,
unable to associate with his gay companions, and




60         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
denied a sight of those for whose visits he pined.
HIe grew more morose, crisp, and sarcastic than
ever.
" Do carry me into the shop, and let me lie where
I can see the people passing," he entreated his
parents. The ruling priest opposed it, because he
might draw in some of the heretics to see him. But
his parents saw how the lion fretted in his cage, and
at last consented. Every day he was carried into
the shop.  It required four men to remove him, and
only then with great pain to himself. It once delighted him to be stared at in admiration; now it
irritated him to have a glance from strangers, for
their eyes were drawn upon his deformity.  "What
a misfortune!" many said to his father in the shop.
"It was not always so," the old man answered,
partly because of his former pride in his son, and
partly because he might prevent him from breaking
out in an angry retort. "Not always so; he was
quite another person in his youth, and you would
have been charmed with his excellent gifts."
One day he was propped up near the window,
when he saw the wife of the martyred waterman passing. Their eyes met and they greeted each other
at the same instant. "Come in," said he. "Father,
please show this good friend a seat. It was she who
fixed the pillows for me."
The youth of the old shoemaker seemed to be renewed. Never was his strap flung more quickly
from his knee, and a chair put forward. That would




CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.           61
not do-he must see her in a better one, and his
loose slippers went shuffling into the next room for
the best chair in the house. With reluctance she
took it, and there he stood, arranged his glasses,
gazed at the poor, blushing boat-woman and said,
" If it had not been for you, my son Bartholomew
would not have been alive to-day. He has talked
every day about you, and I was going to the river to
ask you to come and see him some day, but I feared
you would be losing time and money by such a
favour."
She replied to this speech as best she could, and
then the mother came to pour upon her the warm
gratitude of her soul. She was utterly confused,
but Berthelot began to manage the interview. It is:
natural for a widow to delight in telling the story of
her good husband's deeds and death, and he touchedthis ever-tuned chord of her heart. She told it all,
and unconsciously divulged the fact that she and her
husband once had' known prosperous days at Meaux,
where they had a comfortable home, a thriving business, books, friends and happiness. It was their
social influence that made them a mark for the terrible agents of Beda, who drove them forth in the:
night, each carrying a little child, and leaving all
else to fall into the hands of' the cruel hunters of
heresy.
"Is there no law by which you can regain your
property?" inquired Berthelot.'I wish I had
been a lawyer."




:62'YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.'Poor people can get nothing by law," said she,
"but I am often told by the priests that if I will renounce my religion and become a penitent in the
Church, the property will all be restored."
"Surely it would," said the credulous Madame
Milon, who believed that such tempting offers were
made in good faith.
" Why don't you do it?" asked the elder Milon.
The woman was abashed at finding that she was
not among Bible Christians, although she knew Berthelot's opinions. But faith is courageous. She
had committed herself, and there was no retreat, and
without much hesitation she replied,
"I would not do it for the world. Even if I got
back my home, I would live in it as a wretched
traitor to my Lord. I am not so poor as he was,
nor so persecuted. I am happy and contented, for
I hope that I have some of the riches of Christ. I
could lose my husband-but oh! it was horrible to
see him burned-yet he is glorified."
The elder Milons had never heard the like, and
they were secretly lamenting that heresy could so
delude a poor artless woman. In their eyes she was
possessed with an evil spirit.
The sobbing visiter looked at the mother, saying,
"-It was a great comfort to him and to me, in that
awful hour, to have your son sing as he did on the
Grdve."
This was news to Berthelot's parents, and they,
stared at everything in their astonishment, but a,




CRIPPLED FOR LIFE.           63
second thought brought up the fact that no exploit
had been too strange or daring for him to attempt.
"And what would I have done for a Testament,"
she added, "if he had not sent me one."
Another item of astounding news. They asked
Berthelot to explain, which he did to their silence,
if not to their satisfaction. There had been days
when the least hint of such favour to the Bible-readers
would have put the poor woman into the street.
They would have vented the wrath they felt against
their son, upon the object of his kindness. But
could they be angry at him, crippled as he was?
could they ill-treat one to whom, the Surgeon Pointet said, they owed Berthelot's life? They sought
relief by changing the subject, and asking about her
children, her house, and her earnings.
"Now," said Berthelot, "you did not favour me
by coming for those shoes. Father, please hand me
down that box. I made some once that I hoped
might suit. They will be the better for seasoning."
The woman-whose name was found to be Maria
Jardinet-protested, but at length; under the urgent
persuasion of the three Milons, consented to put her
ifeet into a finer pair than she had worn since her
weary wandering from her home at Meaux, and to
carry with her some gaily trimmed pairs for her little
ones. Berthelot had passed the happiest hour of
his helplessness, and his mother had a reason for
saying to the visitor at parting, "' Come often and
See us."




64           YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS
CHAPTER V.
THE WONDEn OF PARIS.
THE marriage of King Francis and Eleanor
brought a merry day to Paris. The less happiness
there was in this political union, the more pomp was
desired by the monarch. Clement Marot wrote,
" There were mysteries and games, and the streets were gaily drest
And the roads were strewn with flowers, the sweetest and the best;
On every side were galleries, and, if'twould pleasure yield,
We'd have conjured up again for thee a new Elysian field."
Berthelot saw part of these gayeties, and he grew
still more restive and unhappy.  He was angry
because his former habits were denied him for ever,
and he must vent his spite on somebody. He jeered
at the. smiling crowds, and freely poured forth his
sarcasms.
"Halloa! you Lutheran!" he one day shouted
to a quiet Christian whose eye of compassion was
turned upon him  as he was passing.  "Why don't
you stop and- stare at a miserable wretch??  Keep,
your pity for yourself; you will be burned one of
these days."
The Christian came up to the window, was touched




THE WONDER OF PARIS.           65
at the sight, and said affectionately, "Poor man, why
do you mock at us? Do you not see that God has
bent your body in this way, in order to straighten your
soul.2"
A new thought entered the mind of the paralytic.
" Can it be," he asked himself, " that God has made
me helpless so that he might reform me?"
"Pardon me for speaking so abruptly," the
stranger went on to say, when he saw that his arrow
had gone to the heart of the reviler.  "I surely
would not injure your feelings."
" You are right; my soul is bent; it has~ met with
a fearful fall some time."
" It fell in Adam, and has been falling ever since,
and now it's very crooked and helpless, or you would
not mock at us. But it may be raised and fully
restored by our Lord Jesus,'who, when he was reviled, reviled not again,' and'who his own self bare
our sins in his own body on the tree, that we, being
dead to sin should live unto righteousness. For ye
were as sheep going astray; but are now returned
unto the Shepherd and Bishop of your souls."'
Berthelot had been astonished many times, because
these humble disciples would bear his insults, and
yet make no reply, but now he felt subdued by the
gentle tone of the stranger, who, at length, gave him
a New Testament, saying, "Look at this book, and
a few days hence you will tell me what you think of
it."
When Berthelot was left alone, he said to himself




66         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
"So this book that I hated, and would not read lest
it should put a check on my bad habits, and convince
me that I must repent, has, at last, come into my
hands. I'll see what it is makes the Christians so
kind, so patient under derision, so forgiving and so
courageous."
HIe opened it, he began to taste a new fruit, he
could not put aside such a wondrous book, and he
read it day and night. It became his teacher; he
needed no other. The sword of the Spirit cut the
way to his heart, and the Lord took the strong-hold.
His past life began to terrify him. His cry was
" Oh, my sins, my sins, they haunt me like wolves.
I cannot flee from them."
" Send for Friar Bernard," said his mother, one
day when she overheard him crying, for mercy.
"He is now in the city agaifi."
"No; this book does not tell me to send for
priests, but to go to Jesus. If he would only say
to me, as he did to the man sick of the palsy, and
helpless as I am,'Son, thy sins are forgiven thee!'
I would not ask him also to say,'Arise, take up
thy bed and walk.' "
"But, my son, you cannot go to see Jesus."
"I do not need to see him.  Oh, if I could only
believe in him!"
This was his chief thought and wish for days and
weeks together. Persons would pass by his window
and notice that he was absorbed in his Testament,
or if they came'nto the shop, he did not seem to




TIIE WONDER OF PARIS.           67
notice them unless they were familiar friends.  lIe
did not even see Friar Bernard as he walked slowly
past, until, one day, their eyes met. The friar saw
that' he was welcome, and came in, took the poor
sufferer by the hand, and as they talked they wept
together.
"These sins, so black and fierce!" said Berthelot.
"If I could only believe, I am sure Jesus would
take them away."
"Does the crucifix help you any?"
"Not at all. Please do not mention the little
crosses nor images. I want the-true cross."
"I am glad to hear you say so. Why do you
not pray,'Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief?''.
Silently, and with eyes turned to heaven, the paralytic was lying, all absorbed in thought or prayer.
At last he said, "Yes, yes, my unbelief-I understand that. I have not, been willing to believe, nor
even to learn the truth. I have insulted you when
you have been trying to teach me.  Can you forgive me?"
"I cherish nothing against you that is not already
pardoned."
"Then you freely overlook all my offences. How
kind, how full of love you are to a poor wretch!"
"Why should I not be?  The blessed Jesus, for
the sake of his death for me, overlooks all my offences against him."
"Is that the way he forgives?  Would he treat




68         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
a great sinner like me as if I had never offended
him?"
"Most certainly.  He was crucified for our offences; he bore our sins; he takes them all away,
and treats us as if we had always been righteous.
This" —the friar spoke very low-" this is what
Luther calls justification by faith.  Only believe in
Jesus, cast yourself upon him, and he will thus forgive and justify you."
"Dare I believe that he will do it?  It seems
too great a thing for him to do. It is too much for
me to expect."
"He died for you, and thus he bought for you a
pardon. It is offered to you freely. Believe him,
and you shall have it"
"Then I will pray,'Lord, I believe; help thou
my unbelief.'"  Again he was lost in his own
thoughts, and the friar left him.
In a short time the gospel was to Berthelot "like
a loud trumpet sounding the praise of the grace of
Christ."  He felt that he was "the chief of sinners," redeemed by the only Saviour; a specimen
of what the grace of God could do for the guiltiest
of men.  "Mercy has been shown me," he said,
" in order that the love of God, which pardons the
greatest of sinners, may be placed before men, as
if it were set on a hill to be seen by all the world."
He who had once indulged in quarrels now gave
himself to prayer and peace.  The wolf had become a lamb.




THE WONDER OF PARIS.           69
"Father," said he, one day, "I seem to be the
happiest man in the city, and yet there are two
things which would make me even happier, if I could
do them."
"What are they?" asked the older Milon, as he
gave one more pull to the waxed threads, and looked
up at his son, who had been reading his Testament
so quietly that he was supposed to be asleep.
"' One is, that I could work again in the shop.
It is hard to see you pegging and stitching in order
to support me, as well as the rest of the family."
"It is no harder now than it used to be."  The
old man did not think what an arrow this- truth
would be to the heart of his son, and he added, " It
is not so hard. I'm glad to earn something to make
you comfortable."
"Yes, I have always been a burden to you.
Forgive me, for I hope God has. And I lie here
thinking that I must always be a burden. Then the
times grow hard, for if King Francis will have his
wars, the poor people must pay the taxes."
"Oh never be troubled about that. I am thankful
that we have plenty of custom, even if the students
do not come here as they did when you could fit
them so nicely that they were proud of themselves.
But what is the other thing?"
Berthelot hesitated. He knew his father's prejudices. He knew that the reading of the Testament would have been opposed, if it had not been a
comfort to himself. At length he took courage to




70         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
say, "Friar Bernard says it is right for me to read
this little book."
"Friar Bernard is very kind; he likes to indulge
you. "
"Well, if you would let me read it to you"-Tbe
old shoemaker was quite astonished. What need
had he of the readings?  What would Beda say?
The Sorbonn'e  would surely not punish his poor
crippled son for making himself happy with the
Bible, but if he should listen to it, they might throw
him into prison, and then what wokld his family do?"
"Do let me read the story of Jesus at Jacob's
well."' He began, and the old man plied his awl
and his threads with all his might. After a little he
stopped-" What is that? Read it again."
"Jesus answered and said unto her, Whosoever
drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him,
shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give
him shall be in him a well of water springing up into
everlasting life."
Thus one read the good word, the other listened,
and both talked of its beauty and riches.  The old
man began to be impatient when a customer sat too
long, or a lounger hung about the doors.  Then he
grew bolder, and he would say to those who lingered
to tell over the news for the third time, "We have
the good news here, and if you want to learn what
made the angels sing and sinners shout, just listen
to the little book there." The customers began to




THE WONDER OF PARIS.           71
come almost every day. They formed a sort of
Bible-reader's class. In the shoe-shop was taught
a sounder theology than in the Sorbonne. Berthelot had his little meetings on a new plan. His
musical skill was put to a sacred use. As he played
and sang Christian hymns the people, whose numbers and visits increased, were charmed with the
praises of God. Not a room in all Paris was so full
of interest as the shop of the M!'ons.  The Church
of the New Testament -was in that house.
Many a day had the little shoes that Berthelot
had given the children of the martyred waterman,
been worn upon the pavements between the shop and
their humble home. They brought flowers to him,
and he made them merry with music. They solved
certain matters of faith for the older Milon, when
they said that they "had a father just as much as
ever-only he was up in heaven," and that they
knew their " Great Father would give them bread
on the morrow, for they would ask him for it the
first thing in the morning." They came as little sunbeams, nor did "Grandmother Milon," as they
called her, ever let them go away empty.
On one of their visits Berthelot cauglt a new idea.
Why could he not teach the children to write? He
had scarcely an equal in this art, and he felt restless
to do some good to the poor. Once he had applied
his skill to inventing sinful amusements; why not
now invent some new mode of charity.- He began
to teach them to make letters.  Other poor children




72         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
were gathered in, and it was his delight to collect
them around his bed, give them verses of Scripture,
and show how to write them down. Thus he had his
Bible-writing school.
One day Duroc, the sheath-maker, called at the
shop. He was the convener of the " little meetings,"
and Berthelot had long known how he went about
to whisper here and there and tell people where to
assemble. He had a finger tied up, and said that
in etching a design upon a sword-hilt, he had burned
it with aqua-fortis.
"There is something for me to do," said Berthelot, eager to labour with his own hands, and to earn
a little to give to the poor. " Can you get me a
job of etching? Now I can turn the flourishes of
my pen to some account in inventing designs."
The sheath-maker brought him some work soon
after, and Berthelot showed himself skilful in etching, with aqua-fortis on knives, daggers, and swords.
The goldsmiths heard of him, employed him, and
he executed some unusual things for them.  He
spent his earnings in helping to support the widows
and orphans of martyrs, and others who were poor
for the sake of the gospel.
People came from all quarters of Paris to visit
him; some to see "the excellent and rare things
that he did;" some to hear his singing, and others
to learn the way of salvation. Every morning and
evening his fine voice was heard singing psalms and
spiritual songs, while he played upon some musical




TI E WONDER OF PARIS.          73
instrument.  This drew many to the shop, situated
in the centre of Paris. Many more came, attracted
by the great and sudden change that had taken
place in him. "If God has bestowed these gifts
upon me," said he, "-it is that he might show forth
his glory by me."  He was the comforter of the
poor and the inquiring, but if hypocrites or spies
came to him, he drew them near and "' launched on
them the thunderbolts of God."  The chronicler
adds, "In short, his room was a true school of
piety, day and night, re-echoing with the glory of
the Lord." He was regarded as the wonder of
Paris.
"Why does not young Calvin come to see us?"
said Berthelot one day to his father, when they
were talking of having some little sermons at their
house.
"Perhaps he does not need any new shoes," was
the reply; "'and if he does, he knows you could
not make them for him." This was not the whole
truth in the case. Calvin had been very busy in
his studies, in writing a book, and mn visiting the
houses where he met the friends of the gospel. We.
shall now see how he came, at length, to preach in
the shop of the Milons.
There was in the city a man of "sense and
credit," named Nicholas Valeton, who had once
been receiver at Nantes.  He had met with some
good people, who had taught him the truth, and the
study of the New Testament had confirmed his.




74         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.'faith. If there was a new book in any of the
shops he was quite likely to hear of it, or if it was
not there, he was the man to give the dealers the
title of some new volume that the reformers -had
just sent forth into a world of book-burners. His
taste ran that way, and he had money to indulge
it.
In one of the shops he was inquiring, on a day
in 1532, for a translation of Seneca's Clemency,
that had just appeared in Paris. The bookseller
said he knew nothing about it. Valeton pointed to
the back room, as much as to say, "Perhaps you
have it in there. I understand how cautious you
shop-keepers are. You have a hidden drawer, out
of Beda's sight, for the writings of the reformers."
The bookseller shook his head. A pale, studiouslooking man entered the shop. Valeton thought he
had seen him before, as he might have done, had
not fear of the people kept the receiver from the
little meetings. The stake had a great terror for
him.
"IHave you any Bibles?" asked the unknown.
The shop-keeper shook his head. "I have been
going from shop to shop, but the booksellers look
at me with suspicion, and declare that they have
not a copy."  The fact was tiat the Bible, lately
published, had been eagerly bought up, and the
doctors of the Sorbonne had tried to prevent the
sale. The unknown took his leave.
Valeton followed him, saying, " I can put you on




THE WONDER OF PARIS.           75
the track. Be sure always to find the bookseller
alone, and point to the buck room, and he will understand you. If these fellows possess the truth,
fear leads them to lie about it. But you will find
some Bibles in the Latin quarter. I am on the
search for a new book on Clemency, just published
by a brilliant young man named Calvin. I will
go with you. Do you know Calvin?"
This was a question that put the unknown to the
blush. He managed to say, "I can furnish you
with a copy of Clemency."'  So you have read it. I am told that it lays a
good lesson before the king, teaching him to be gentler towards those whom the-church calls heretics."
The unknown took from his pocket a copy of Clemency, and Valeton was obliged to accept it as a
present. "From  the author, I suspect," thought
Valeton, yet he had such respect for the shyness of
the young man, that he did not press his inquiries.
"There is a wonderful paralytic, who will take
great delight in reading this book," said Valeton.
"J will loan it to him. He always has much to say
of Calvin, and especially of a sermon that he heard
at La Forge's. He is a miracle of grace."
"Present him with this copy," said the unknown,
who was now well known, as he himself perceived.
"Say to him that he is in danger of Beda's attention, but he must remember the text at La Forge's.
May the Lord strengthen him."




76         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
"You do not suppose the persecutors will seize
him!"
"HI is influence is too great for them to permit.
They will attempt to get rid of that. The spies!
and eaves-droppers have heard that noble voice singing the praises of his Lord."
"He intends to have preaching in the shop this
very week, if any one will dare give the sermon."
" I dare do it. Tell him to send me word."
Other arrangements were made for the meeting, as
they came near the bookseller's shop. Calvin found
the Bibles which he was seeking for his friend Francis Daniel of Orleans.  The advocate wished to
distribute them, although he strongly adhered to
the Romish church. He had lately offered to secure
for Calvin an office in the church quite equal to that
of bishop. It was refused.
Valeton parted with his new friend, and on his
way home entered another book stall, where he found
a fresh volume from Margaret, Queen of Navarre.
He caught it up, paid for it silently, hid it under
his coat, and hurried home. On reaching his room,
he opened a large chest, placed this volume along
with many others which were kept secret, and then,
bolting his door, he opened " Clemency," and read
thus"Clemency becomes no one so much as it does a
king. * * * You spare yourself when you seem to
be sparing another. You establish your greatness
when you make the public good your chief care,




THE WONDER OF PARIS.           v 7
and employ your power for the safety of the people."  "Good!" said Valeton to himself; "what
Seneca meant for the tyrant Nero, is excellent for
our King Francis. I wish his Majesty might read
this sentence:'Let the king so deal with his own
subjects as he desires God to deal with him.'"
It seems that Calvin had hoped that the king.would read this treatise. He certainly needed it.
He claimed to be the "father of letters," and made
some noble efforts to draw learned men into the
kingdom. But he was too much under the pope
and the Sorbonne. He allowed them to persecute
those who sought and found the truth of God. He
probably never read Calvin's little translation. If
he did, he did not profit by it, and he went on imitating Nero, rather than following the advice of
Seneca and his young commentator Calvin.
7 *




1 8-       YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
CHAPTER Vi.
SONGS AND SEIRMONS.
Two young men left the Latin quarter one evening, in 1533, and cautiously took the Rue de St.
Martin for the shop of the Milons. One of them
was Calvin, and the other was Louis Du Tillet,
whose gifts and graces made him a most attractive
friend. He was of a noble family in Angoulgme;
his father and two brothers held high offices under
the king. He loved the Bible, but feared to follow
it, lest it should lead him from the traditions and
worship of the Romish church.  He loved the
church, and expected soon to be a canon of the old
cathedral in his native town, yet he knew that the
church was wrong in forbidding Christians to read
that holy word of which the Lord said, "Search
the Scriptures."
As they walked on, arm in arm, Calvin said,
"We ought to bless God for the Queen of Navarre.
That preaching at the Louvre is a grand stroke of
gospel policy."  He saw that his friend was not informed of an event which was creating a stir in all
Paris, and he explained. " The king was absent in
Picardy, and his sister Margaret resolved. to give




SONGS AND SERMONS.            79
the gospel a throne during the Lent days. She
proposed to have Gerard Roussel, her eloquent
chaplain, preach in the churches. But the Sorbonne would not allow that, for he is too good a
Christian to suit them. He would preach down the
Roman follies and hold forth Christ. It was the
custom for them to appoint the Lent preachers, and
I supposed they would select some furious and insolent monks, who would make the churches ring with
their insults against the truth. At any rate, they
would not nominate Roussel. Queen Margaret began the contest with them, but they overcame. They
had their small revenge in shutting the churches
against her chaplain. She was not to be outwitted
in this way. The gospel must be preached, now or
never, in some public manner."
"It would have been better," said Du Tillet, "to
have thrown a shield over your little meetings, and
increased them."
" Ah! this is only taking care of a few houseplants; it is not sowing in the broad field of the
world, where the Lord ought to have a great harvest.
And yet she adopted our plan, on a larger scale.
She opened the doors of the palace, fitted up a saloon
and gave orders to admit all who came.- I wonder
that you did not hear of it, deep as you were in your
books. The grand movement astonished the people.
The crowd that rushed to hear the first sermon, the
other day, was so great that there was not room for
them. The queen sent me a special card or I would




80         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
not have got in. The next day she threw open a
larger hall, and the people filled it and the stairway
and the next rooms. The third day a still larger
place was chosen, and room was yet wanting. The
people are hungry for the gospel, and yet we must
hold our meetings in private houses."
"St. Paul did the same."
"True, he did when shut out of the Synagogue.
But the gospel ought to be preached in every Church,
from the meanest chapel up to the Notre Dame.
Yet the' preaching at the Louvre must do some good.
The crowds increase. At the hour, as you will see
to-morrow, the bridges and boats will be thronged;
the students are beginning to go, and you will see
nobles, lawyers, professors, and literary men hurrying to the spot. Yet you will refuse to go, I dare
say, for you think the mass is worth more than the
gospel. I only wish Roussel would preach more
like Paul, and then I would force you to attend."
" I confess that I cannot give up the mass," replied Du Tillet sadly. "I wish I could see as you
do. I feel that there is nothing but ignorance and
darkness within me. But I cannot leave the Church
as you have done. And I am astonished at you,
when I think of what a sacrifice you make. You
might be promoted and made a bishop. The queen
would give you a diocese."
"Folly! Did not Paul count all things but loss,
for Christ? Yes, she would never buy me off with
a promotion. She told me, one day, that she would




SONGS AND SERMONS.            81
like to have me in her service. My reply was, that
it is well known how little I frequent the courts of
princes, and I thank the Lord that I have never been
tempted to seek the smiles of royalty, for I am satisfied with my good Master, who retains me in his
household. My dear Louis, you must think less of
the Church and more of Christ."
They reached Milon's house. Many persons
passing, during the day, had seen a nail driven in
the pavement as the signal, and others had been
summoned by Duroc, the sheath-maker, so that the
rooms were already full.  "You cannot get in,"
said the convener to many of the comers.  " Go to
La Forge's; he will have a meeting for those who are
not able to find room here."  When he saw Calvin
and his friend at the door, he found a way for them
to enter.
In the fervent prayers that evening, there wer(
hearty thanks to God because " Salvation had come
to the house." Poor mothers were silently blessing
the Lord for what Berthelot had done for their children. Calvin preached on the Conversion of Paul,
closing in his usual words, " If God be for us, who
can be against us."
There was a deep silence. All eyes were turned to
the paralytic on his couch. All wished to hear from
him, for they knew his full heart might pour its consolations into their own. He begged to be raised up a
little, although the position gave him extreme pain.
He began:




$2         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
" How wonderful is the mer6y of Jesus! It has
made me a poor cripple. It has brought me to great
suffering of body, but what joy of mind! It has
made me helpless, and yet I never was so strong.
I shall never rise and walk as the man sick with the
palscy did, but I do trust that Jesus says,'Son, thy
sins be forgiven thee.' I thank the good Lord for
these pains; they are some of my richest mercies.
What was I doing before they were sent?  Hating
you, ridiculing you, despising the Holy Bible, and
blaspheming my God. Oh, if I could only pray
more, read the good word more, and love you all
more! How strange that I-I, who ran after the
worst companions-I, who grieved my dear parents
-I, who scoffed at your religion-I, who loved
dances and revels-should see this house so full of
praying Christians. Ielp me to bless God for this.
See what he has done.  He wanted to show how
great was his love to sinners. So he took the worst
of them all, the very chief of sinners, and crippled
him so that he could not fight so stoutly against
God. And if he has chosen me to be one of his little
flock, do you not see how ready he is to save you?
I ought to love him, because he first loved me, and
does he not love you all? But why do I speak? I
fear my words will only do harm to the blessed
gospel""Go on," said Calvin and others. He declined.
"Sing, sing then for us," whispered his friends, who
knew the charms of his voice.  "Sing the Queen's




SONGS AND SERMONS.                    83
Hymn," said several persons who had lately heard.
him singing one of Margaret's Martyr Hymns that
became very popular afterwards. He began:
0 Lord, our God arise,
Scatter thine enemies
Who thirst for blood;
Death, which on earth doth reign
With sin and mortal pain,
Is everlasting gain
To men of God.
They, through the shaded vale
Walk firm and do not quail,
With thee to rest;
The fiery death they face,
And march to that glad place
Where, with the crown of grace
Thy sons are blest.
Help those who trust thee, Lord,
And give them for reward
This death of joy;
0 Lord our God, arise,
Stand forth beneath the skies,
Subdue thine enemies,
Who us destroy.
The people had heard of justification by faith, and
had seen an evidence of the power of God's saving
grace. They were hopeful of great results.
"Paris will be full of our little meetings, perhaps,
after a while," said some as they spoke softly on their
homeward way.
" And think of the great meetings at the Louvre,"
was the reply.
"They are not for us," said some.  "But we




84         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
common people may go to hear the good Courault,
as he preaches to immense crowds at St. Saviour's.
He can scarcely see to read the Bible, but he causes
his hearers to see the truth."
"And Friar Bernard," said others, "tells those
who come to his box, to confess their faith there,
and confess their sins to God."
A day or two after this, Berthelot's friend, the
Sculptor, went to St. Saviour's.  His beautiful
statue had been admired by lovers of art, and adored
by superstitious worshippers of Mary, for many
months. Among the crowds that went to hear the
great preacher, were numbers who paid it great reverence. Vallette went to see how the people treated
it, quite as much as to hear the eloquent Courault.
Bashful and shrinking from notice, he stood near
Friar Bernard's confession box, watching the people
crowding along the aisle by the wall. Many knelt
and said their Ave Maria; some gazed at the work
of art as if it pained them to see a beautiful piece of
marble worshipped; and others lent it their scowl.
He was surprised to see so many of the two latter
classes, until he saw that the people of the little
meetings chose this part of the church near Friar
Bernard. The heart of the artist was sad, for he
thought that to despise the statue was to insult the
"Adorable Virgin."
The preacher entered the pulpit; and solemn
silence prevailed. His manner was bold, somewhat
tough, and intensely earnest.  He was alive with




SONGS AND SERMONS.             85
the gospel, and did not spare the errors of the
Church, nor the vices of its members.  "There is
one Mediator," said he, "and only one. Is it
Mary? Blessed was she in being the Mother of
Jesus, but yet she was by nature a sinner. Oh, ye
who adore the'pure marble that pretends to claim
your adoration, know that she was a poor, lost,
dying, helpless sinner, like yourselves, until she repented and believed in her crucified Son. I love
to think of her, for she would not dare to wear the
crown which belongs only to her divine Son and
Saviour.  The more sinners we see redeemed, the
more hope is there for us, if we will believe in Christ.
Turn away from that image"-he pointed to the
statue-" and look to the true cross of Calvary.
There the one Mediator dies for you. Turn away
from the saints! They were sinners once, and they
went directly to Jesus: Why may not you?  Turn
away from the mass! Jesus is not in it crucified
afresh for you. He need not be.  He once offered
himself up for you; that was enough. Turn away
from all human rites; cease to worship the creature
more tnan the Creator; cease to put the Church
before Christ; believe in Jesus, love him, pray to
him, serve him, die for him, if need be, and you will
be saved. There is no other Saviour.  One is
enough." And these words seemed to ring among
the rafters, " One is enough."
The modest artist was grieved.  "So he calls
that an image," thought he.  "Yes, they call it an
8




86         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
image. No longer will they call it the Holy Virgin."
He felt the eyes of many around him burning upon his
face, as if they knew that it was the work of his hands.
He wished that his chief work, which was his pride,
were back in his shop, where he might hide it from
the public view, and that he might creep away from
the indignation poured upon it.  "These gospellers
hate me," said he to himself. He fell back a little,
and turned to find some way of escape, or some
corner in which to hide. But the aisle was crowded
with people. Just behind him were the tall Surgeon
Pointet looking over his shoulders, and the short.bricklayer looking through him, at the zealous
-preacher.  There too were Calvin and Du Tillet,
listening with delight. The words, " One is enough,"
often repeated, seemed to fill the whole house. The
sculptor must breathe that air of life.
" And think who he is;" cried the preacher. "IHc
is the Lord of glory.  *  *  *  Think what men.did to him. They hated him; they seized, they
scourged, they nailed him to a cross. Come up to
Cavalry with me. Behold your crucified Lord. He
dies once for you all. Then why do you bow to
images and little crosses, and thus crucify him afresh?
Why do you imagine that every time the priest
elevates the host in the Mass, he offers Jesus as a,sacrifice again for you? Jesus died once to take
away your sins. One sacrifice is enough."
This was good news to many in the Church, and
Vallette began to believe that the way of pardon and




SONGS AND SERMONS.            87
life was in Jesus alone. He still heard the preacher
saying, " Why do you pray to the saints? Why not
to Jesus only? He promises to hear you. He will
plead with the Father for you. He is the only advocate of sinners. The saints can do nothing for
you. You do not need their prayers. One intercessor is enough."
The artist was trembling, weeping,. ready to faint
and fall. The strong arm of the Surgeon was put
forth to hold him up, and his lips whispered, "Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and thou shalt be
saved."
" But I have insulted him. It was my hands that
made the image which everybody despises. I have
adored Mary and not Christ. I have crucified him
afresh. The preacher's eye is fixed on me."
" Listen: hear what the good preacher is saying."
Courault, with tender voice, was inviting sinners.
"You all may come to Jesus-come now-come all
at once. In his hand is the pardon you want. Take
it freely. He asks you no price. He paid for it
on the cross. At his feet is the true confessional.
Bow down there and confess your sins. Go to your
homes, and seek some corner where you may kneel
and pray for his forgiveness, his love, his power, and
his salvation."
The service ended, the preacher disappeared, the
people lingered. The sculptor found himself walking with his arm upon that of Surgeon Pointet.
"Where is your room?" asked the Surgeon.




88         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
" I have none," replied the broken-hearted Sculptor, " except the shop, andI dare not go there. I am
too poor to have a home."
The surgeon inquired further into the surprising
case, and this was the story of the artist: "I wanted
to make some offering to religion. I contributed
that statue of Mary. It cost me long days and
nights of work. It brought me into debt. Besides
that I have been sick for months.  My landlord
turned me out of his house. I had no bed nor board.
The shop became my lodging-place, but no one knew
it except my fellow-workmen. They informed my
employer.  He suspected me of being a heretic,
because I said that Tielly, the priest who caused the
sad injury to Berthelot, was a bad character.  That
priest has often come into the shop to accuse me of
being a friend to poor young Milon. I could not
deny that I was, and that I often visited him.
Yesterday they found me reading a book which Berthelot sent me, and they took it from me, saying
that I might look for Beda next. No man was ever
a blinder devotee to popery than I have been. It
seemed cruel to be accused of heresy, when I opposed it with all my heart. I went to-day to St.
Saviour's to see my statue once more, and then leave
the city, if I could have strength to walk away."
" Come with me," said the Surgeon, whose heart
was touched, for he understood that the Sculptor,had been almost starving himself, while toiling for a
hard master.  "My house shall be your home."




SONGS AND SERMONS.             89
"No, sir, thank you; I will first go to see Berthelot. He has suspected that I am in trouble, but
I have refused to tell him what it is. He once
scoffed at my idolatry; now he wants to tell me of
the true worship of Christ."
The Surgeon urged the young artist into an inn,
where he ordered a refreshing dinner for themselves,
and their talk ran upon -the glorious gospel, to whose
feast the neediest are freely invited. But who
should enter the room with noisy, blustering pomp,
but the priest Tielly, calling for the portion of a
glutton and a wine-bibber? and who was with him
but young Coiffard, whom the priest had cunningly
ensnared, that he might have a sumptuous feast at
the expense of the wild law-student? On all sides
it was a surprise meeting. The timid Sculptor
would have been insulted by the rough burly priest,
had not the Surgeon's shield been over his head.
We shall hear of this scene again, and now we follow Vallette to -the house of the Milons, whose door
is as widely opened to him as Berthelot's roomy
heart.
"That book of yours will condemn me," said the
artist, after rehearsing his story.  "It will bring
the last blow. I will not again venture into the
shop. I know one workman who will bring me my
few tools and scanty clothing. But where shall I
-go?"
" Stay here. Of course you will. Protestant art
will be needed one of these days. Christians will




90         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
want fine statues, not for worship, but for their softening influence upon manners. You will come and
live here with us. You can invent beautiful designs
for the goldsmiths and sword-makers, and I can etch
them. We'll set up the business together and defy
competition.  Cheer up; the. Lord will provide.
And what talks and readings we will have!"
The Surgeon had not been in the house of the
Milons since he had been dismissed at the interference of the crafty confessor.  He had to stem the
tide of explanations and apologies on the part of the
father and mother.  His reply was that he was
thankful for their conversion to their Lord and
Saviour, and they indulged in their joy over the
happiness of their poor son who had been such a
blessing to their souls.
"It grieves me to have let your book get into the
hands of your enemies," said the Sculptor.  "I was
off my guard when it was found before me on my
block. I wish I could read the passages which you
had marked."
"Do not grieve.  Here is another copy. Friar
ZBernard leaves me some to distribute." Berthelot
took down from a box, which was fixed within his
reach, a copy of a book which was exciting no little
commotion among the Sorbonnists. It was a poem,
published by Queen Margaret a year or two before,
entitled, " The Mirror of the Sinful Soul, in which
she discovers her Paults and Sins, as also the Grace
and Blessings bestowed on her by Jesus Christ, her




SONGS AND  SERM0ONS.                   91
Spouse."  Berthelot opened the volume, and repeated
such lines as these, for he had committed them to
memory:
Jesus, true fisher thou of souls!
My only Saviour, only advocate!
Since thou God's righteousness hast satisfied,
I fear no more to fail at heaven's gate.
My Spouse bears all my sins, though great they be,
And all his merits places upon me.:' * -, *
Come, Saviour, make thy mercies known.'    -:.   
Jesus for me was crucified:
For me the bitter death endured,
For me eternal life procured.
Malrgaret's poems were not elegant appeals to the
imagination, and, in other days, neither Berthelot
nor the artist would have considered them worth
reading. They were theology in rhyme, but this
was just what these two friends needed.  Berthelot
grew earnest as he recited,
Pain or death no more I fear,
While Jesus Christ is with me here:
Of myself no strength have I,
But God, my shield, is ever nigh.
How beautiful is death
That brings to weary me the hour of rest!
Oh! hear my cry, and hasten, Lord, to me,
And put an end to all my misery.
"I fear that I am not ready to say so much," added
Berthelot.  " AMy miseries are very mercies, and I




92         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
want to enjoy them until I am more refined in the
furnace. They will not be met with in heaven.
But do not think they are merits. Do you remember the money I threw down in your shop for the
bricklayer to carry, to the widow of the waterman?"
"I do," replied Vallette. "I wondered at you."
" I then supposed that such gifts were my merits.
I ridiculed your religion as well as that of poor
Anthony Poille. I fancied that my charities would
save my soul. But now I wish to give charities
because Jesus saves me by his life and death. You
must now live with me, and help me, and we will
both live for Christ." The Sculptor could not resist
making his home with the Milons.




THE FLIGIHT OF TIIE LEADERS.       93
CHAPTER VII.
THE FLIGHrT OF THE LEBADERS.
"PROFESSOR CoP will be spoiled," said certain of
the Sorbonnists, as they met him, arm in arm, with
Calvin, slowly walking through the Latin quarter.
"He might be burned, if his father were not physician to the King," replied others who were angry
because Francis would not allow them to drive' his
sister Margaret from the city to her own little kingdom of Navarre. Her " Mirror" had been declared
a forbidden book by the Sorbonne. The king was
enraged about it. Cop took the part of Margaret,
and strange to everybody, the university elected
this young man to be its rector.  "Wonderful!"
said Calvin and his friends.  "The king, his sister,
the rector of the University, and even, as some say,
the bishop of Paris, all lean to the side of the word
of God. How then can France fail to be reformed?"
These were the affairs which the rector was talking over with Calvin as they entered a room in one
of the colleges.  "Your advice was excellent," said
the rector.  " The four faculties met to-day, and we
had a warm time of it. I told them that they had
attacked the best woman in the realm, and pro



94         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
nounced her book a heresy. If it be so, then the
gospel is heresy. I said,'I ou must take back what
you have declared against her and her poems. The
prior, who said that she ought to be sewed in a sack
and thrown into the river, has been punished by
the king. His Majesty ordered that he be treated
as he had proposed to treat her, and the people were
ready to drown him. But the queen interceded for
the wretch, and he has been deprived of his offices
and sent, for two years, to the galleys. You have
encouraged such abuse. If the queen be assaulted,
you will be held as the authors of the deed. The
students have ridiculed her in a play upon the stage
in the college of Navarre; yet they wipe their
mouths and say-It was not we who did it. It was
the University. Let the faculties retract, or the
king will give them trouble.'"
"And what did they do?"
"They remembered that the king had shut up
Beda in prison, and afterwards banished him and his
chief agents. They disavowed their former rashness. They laid the blame on Le Clerq, who has
searched the bookshops for copies of the poems.
He was full of wrath, thus to have their base conduct charged upon him, and to be made the Jonah
whom they would force into the sea. The faculties
prayed the king to accept their apology."
" Good! Margaret has triumphed'over the monks,
to the great comfort of all believers. Surely we
may hope that a mighty reformation is coming.



THE FLIGHT OF THE LEADERS.         95
The king and the best men about him seem to favour
the gospel. Be strong in your high position. Let
your voice be heard."
"How can I? I am not a preacher."  Cop was
educated for a physician.
" Let me tell you. You have an inaugural tV deliver on All-Saints' day. Break over the old rule
of making a mere formal address in dead Latin.
Give the people something in a live language. Proclaim the gospel boldly in the face of all France."
"I am not a divine; I cannot speak like one.
But if you will write the address, I will deliver it."
"It shall be done. You know the risk we are
running."
"Yes, and I am willing to incur it. What shall
be the subject?"
"' Let it be the essence of the gospel, under the
true title of'Christian Philosophy.'"  The friends
separated.
On All-Saints' day, 1533, a pompous procession
moved from the University Colleges, to the Matburin's Church. The monks took their seats and
opened their ears. The students were eager to hear
the new rector, who had brought the Sorbonne and
other faculties to terms.  Here and there through
the Church, were scattered many friends of the
truth, waiting to see the battle, and very hopeful of
victory. At the hour Rector Cop began, as Beza
says, "in a very different fashion from what was
usual."  There was nothing dry and dead in his




D9         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
definition of Christian Philosophy.  "It is this,"
said he, "The revealed will of God; the plan of salvation by Jesus Christ.  The grace of God alone remits sins.  *  *  *  The Holy Ghost is promzised
to all Christians.  Sirs, since the dignity and glory
of this gospel are so just, how I rejoice to lay it
before you to-day."
What! not a word about the Saints, whom the
day brought to mind! only one intercesgor6' proclaimed on the. festival of All-Saints! Jesus the
only Saviour, and Mary nothing but his mother!
It is no wonder that many of the hearers became
uneasy.  On a bench apart fromthe rest sat a young
man of humble appearance, calm, modest and attentive to all that was said. Ile was about the only
one who was not surprised, for he had written it all.
None suspected that it was he who was to set the
whole University, and indeed all France, in commotion. He must have noticed the signs of anger upon
most faces, as well as the joy upon his few friends
present.
Two Franciscan Monks could scarcely keep their
seats, and when the assembly was breaking up they
were heard expressing their indignation.  " Grace
~*'*  *  God's pardon  *  *  *  Christ the one
mediator  *  *  *  *  the Holy Ghost-there is
enough of all that in the address, but of penance,
indulgences, and of meritorious works, not a word."
The monks consulted together. It was agreed that
the University would not give Cop his due punishe



THE FLIGIIT OF THE LEADERS.        97
ment; so they hastened to lay the rector's heresies
before Parliament. This high court soon condemned
the doctrines of the rector's inaugural.
Calvin went home one way, and Cop another,
where each was soon visited by friends of the truth.
Some rejoiced, others said, " It was a sad mistake.
We ought to be contented with our little meetings
in retired places."
":No," said Calvin.  "Our Lord went into the
very temple and proclaimed these same great doctrines, and so did Peter and John."
"':True, but Jesus died for it, and his apostles
were thrust into prison."
" Is fear to prevail over us?" asked Calvin in his
greatest earnestness? "Are our friends going to
quail and flee? When the standard-bearer mounts
the wall will his soldiers refuse to take the fortress?
Then if our enemies seize us and remove us from
you, you will deserve to be left to yourselves."
In a day or two Calvin and the rector were together, talking over the action of parliament in condemning the address. "' What will you do?" asked
its author.' I will meet the monks on my own field. It is a
maxim that all members of the University shall first
be tried by the four faculties. How much more is
this the right of the head of them all?  I will defend
the address before them." They formed their plan.
The faculties were convened. " The privileges of
the University have been attacked," said the fearless
9




98         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
rector.  " It has been insulted by allowing its chief
to be denounced in parliament. Bring those impudent informers to trial, and make them give satisfaction for the insult."
The theologians, who had hung down their heads
when Cop defended the Queen of Navarre, were
again in confusion. They could find no scape-goat,
and resolved to fall on the rector with all their forces.
They raised a loud cry against him. But they made
*matters worse and worse. They became divided into
two parties.  One of them shouted, "We must not
-retreat. We must crush out the heresy that threatens us, or the Romish doctrines will be expelled
from among us."
"'The gospel, philosophy, and liberty," shouted
the other party.  "We must rise up and defend the
truth." The noise and disturbance became so great
that nothing could be heard. At last a vote was
taken. The two faculties of law and divinity voted
against the rector; the two faculties of law and medicine sustained him. He refused to vote, although
it Would have given him the victory.  Cop must
appear before parliament.
Calvin received an invitation to visit the Queen
of Navarre. His friends were delighted, hoping
that it would result in great good to the Christian
cause. "Perhaps," they said, "she will stay the
coming storm."  He went to the court.  She rose
to meet him, when he was ushered in, made him sit
down by her side, and they exchanged their views.




THE FLIGHT OF THE LEADEiS.         99
She looked upon him as the rising leader of the
party which would altogether renounce the old
Church, and go back to that true Church which was
oldest of all.- He did not expect her sympathies,
for she clung to the Roman Church, while trying to
reform its errors. What he gained by the interview
we know not. Perhaps he left with a strengthened
hope that the rector would win the day.
"Shall I go before parliament?" asked Cop, after
they had conferred together. "If I do, then you
may be exposed to danger, although I will never reveal our secret, even if they torture me."
"Yes, go; and I shall expect to follow. Our Lord
maintained his doctrines before Pilate, and let us
not forsake him."
The rector got himself ready to appear, as became the chief of the first university in Christendom.
He put on his official robes, and, with a troupe - of
beadles going in advance, he set out for the Palace
of Justice. A large procession followed. When
passing through a narrow street, where there was
much confusion, a man hurried up and whispered in
Cop's ear, "Beware of the enemy: they intend to
shut you up in prison. Berquin's fate awaits you.
A member of the court-your friend-has sent me
to warn you. I have just seen the officers, on
another street, who are waylaying you: if you go
farther, you are a dead man."
What was to be done? No Calvin was at his side
to give him advice. He lost his presence of mind.




100         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
The procession was stopped by the confusion.  His
friends came to him, and amid the disorder, hastily
escaped with him. He entered his room, flung off
his cap and gown, caught up a few needed articles,
and put in his pocket the seal of the University.
Some think that he did this by mistake, but, more
likely, he took the seal so that it might still be understood that he was the proper rector of the faculties.  His friends hurried him out of Paris, and put
him on the road to Basle, his native city.  The
archers came, but the rector was beyond their grasp.
The angry parliament offered a reward of three
hundred crowns to any one who would bring him
back dead or alive. Cop was soon safe beyond the
Rhine.
"After all Cop was only the shadow," said his
enemies, "we must strike the substance.  Calvin is
the man whom we must seize."
"Yes," cried certain men like the priest Tielly,
"he is filling the heart of the city with his doctrines.
We have followed his track as he has gone by night
to teach in the houses of the people. Shall we arrest
him?"
"Let the Lieutenant-criminal, Jean Morin, seize
him," said the parliament.
Calvin was sitting quietly in his room in the college of Fortret, trusting to his obscurity, to the protection of Margaret, and to God for safety. He
was in no little excitement about the dangers that
his friend had just escaped, but he did not believe




THE FLIGHT OF THE LEADERS.       101
that he was worth the notice of the persecutors.
His friends were alarmed. Those, who had helped
Cop to flee, came in haste, saying, "Fly, fly, or you
are lost."
"They surely will not seek for me," replied
Calvin.
" They are coming now. There they are now in
the street. We will go down and parley with them,
while you escape." They went to the gates, but
the officers moved on towards Calvin's door. The
students had their wits at work; some of them
managed to puzzle the searchers; others twisted the
bed-clothes into a rope, and let Calvin down into the
street of the Bernardins, quite as Paul was let down
by the wall of Damascus in a basket.
Morin entered the room just one moment too late.
IHe was always cruel, but perhaps was now too
enraged to take revenge on the students.  "Chase
him," he cried to some of his pack, but they were so
bewildered that they ran the wrong way. "Ha! I'll
get at the secret of this whole business," said he, as
he saw certain papers in the room. He laid hands
on them. We shall hear of these papers again, for
they exposed certain friends of Calvin to great danger, and even to death.
It appears from the account given by a Canon of
the church, that Calvin hastened along the street of
St. Victor, to the suburbs of that name. Just where
the gardens began to expand into fields, dwelt a vinedresserj who probably belonged to the band -which
9*




102        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
kept up the little meetings. Calvin went to this
honest protestant and told him what had occurred.
Having, no doubt, heard Calvin expound the Scriptures, the vine-dresser felt for him the tender affection of a father, and said to him, "If you must flee,
change clothes with me." Forthwith it was done,
and the young evangelist was soon under a peasant's
coat. With a hoe on one shoulder and a wallet
slung over the other, and some provisions for the
journey, he set out on his way. If Morin and his
officers had overtaken him, they would hardly have
detected the future reformer in this rustic garb.
Soon a Canon met him; they had known each
other. Calvin could not avoid him. The Romanist
fixed his eye upon the fugitive and recognized him.
He knew what was the matter, for all Paris was full
of it. "Change your manner of life," said the
Canon. "Look to your safety, and I will promise
you a good appointment." The man told this of
himself, and then confessed that he regarded bribery
or Simony a very innocent offence.
"I cannot be bought," replied Calvin. " I shall
go through with it to the last."  He passed on,
avoiding places where he would be known. Beyond
Versailles he came to the mansion of de Hasseville,
where he was sheltered for three days, and then
passed southward for the lands of Margaret of Navarre, often saying to his weary self, " Never tire in
the middle of your journey.". Louis Du Tillet was now a Canon in the old town




THE FLIGHT OF THE LEADERS..103
of Angouleme, his native place. He also had the
parish of Claix under his charge, and when not in it,
he was alone in the large house of his father. One
day a stranger called at the door and inquired for
him. To his astonishment, he found his friend Calvin seeking a refuge from his pursuers. Both were
delighted as they warmly greeted each other. Calvin told the whole story of his flight, saying, " And
now I come to impose myself upon one whom I can
trust."
"I shall count myself the happiest of men," replied Du Tillet, "if I can protect my dear friend
from his foes. What pleasant conversations we shall
have! I need you for my teacher."
- "I need rather to be taught. My chief trouble
will be that I shall be away from books and professors."
"Books! You can have plenty of them. Come
this way and see." They entered a long hall, where
was one of the best libraries in France.  "All at
your service," said Louis.
Calvin made himself at home. This learned retreat was the dream of his life. He named the town
Doxopolis, the city of glory. It was his Patmos.
He complained of his "indolence " he wrote that
his protector's kindness was enough to rouse up the
laziest of men. He shut himself up in the library.
He passed whole days without eating, and nights
without sleep. This was his sort of indolence!
It was here that he made certain notes and wrote




104         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
out certain doctrines, which afterwards entered into
his celebrated " Institutes."  As an enemy of the
Reform said, "This is the forge, where the new
Vulcan prepared the bolts that he afterwards was to
scatter on every side. This is the factory, where he
began to make the nets that he afterwards fixed up
to catch the simple, and from which a man must be
very clever to get out." These were really gospel
nets to be used by a true fisher of men.
Even when deep in study, Calvin loved to see the
library door open, and have his friend come and sit
down for a talk.'You study too closely,"- said
Louis.
"'Then I must walk. I have rambled over the
hills, and felt that in the presence of God's good
works, we are overcome with astonishment, and our
tongues fail to express his mercy and wisdom.'-'
"Come with me to a vineyard that I have, not far
out of the city." They went. Calvin was so pleased,
that it became his frequent resort. He talked with
the simple-hearted peasants, and they long remembered his visits. It is still called La Calvine.
Louis had a brother John (afterwards bishop of
Meaux,) who came to his old home. They began to
study Greek with Calvin. They all spent some time
at Claix, where the teacher was the wonder of the
neighbours, who called him the Little Greek.  Certain priests of the better class were drawn to Calvin.
At Gerac, in the old castle, lived a prior, who invited
Calvin to come and give his opinions to himself ald




TIE: FLIGHT OF THE LEADERS.       105
the neighbouring clergy.  The gospel was thus
spread through the district.
The missionary spirit filled Calvin's soul. He
proposed to go to Poitiers. Du Tillet felt that he
could not be parted from his friend; he joined him.
A certain garden, and then a cave, became meetingplaces for those who loved the truth.  Calvin:preached for them. When enemies threatened them,
they met.in houses, barns, and remote places. Three
missionaries were raised up; Babinot, a learned
lawyer, went to the region of Garonne, praying and
preaching secretly, here and there, in humble conventicles. At Toulouse, he brought many students
to the light of the truth. Veron went on foot through
Poitou and Saintonge, gathering up "the stray sheep
of the Lord."  He laboured thus for more than
twenty years, and was called the Gatherer.  Veron
led many of the students and citizens of Poitiers to
the Saviour. In after years these three zealous
missionaries visited Calvin at Geneva.




UNG CALVIN'IN PARIS
CHAPTER VI11.
THE GROANXING OP THE PRISONERS.
WHO was the man that sent the messenger to
-warn Rector Cop of his danger? This was the first
question among all Romanists from the cronies of
priest Tielly up to the king and the Sorbonne.
Everybody made a guess, but no one furnished a
proof. Francis, enraged at the flight of the rector
and Calvin, and breathing out anger and slaughter,
ordered every measure to be taken to discover him.
The search was made, but the gentleman moved
among the high courtiers without suspicion. It remained as dark a mystery as the breaking of the
image of " Our Lady."
Who was the messenger that rushed into the narrow street and whispered in Cop's ear? The reader
will remember the man who gave Berthelot a Testament in return for certain insults poured forth from
the shop-window. He was a young lawyer, named
Viermey, who could afford to keep a spirited horse
and ride him so elegantly as to attract the attention
of almost all Paris. When Calvin came to the city
and declined the request of the Coiffards to live
with them, this fine horseman called to give the new




THE GROANING OF THE PRISONERS.   107
comer a ride. They had studied together at Orleans,
and their friendship grew closer by their frequent
excursions on horseback. Had not the rector made
his office a frequent resort?  Had it not been for
some other reason than to consult the rich store of
old law books?  Had not Viermey been seen running very fast about the hour of Cop's escape? He
ran in quite another direction than toward the.narrow street, but that made no difference. Perhaps he
had a pair of horses, at the city gates, for the rector
and himself to mount when the escape was made.
He and his noble horse were found at Orleans the
next day, but what of that? He was arrested.  His
namewas upon certain little notes among Calvin':s
papers.  One of them read, "No knotted straw at
the Black Horse to-night.  Stay at your room until
I come. Invite Cop. Danger at Berthelot's.  The
Sculptor must not remain there. I secured the sale
of fifty copies of your' Clemency' at Orleans.  It
is nmaking you a name in literary circles, but the
Sorbonne will attack you for giving advice to the
king."
A scribbled paper of Calvin's was put into his
hands, with the question, " Did you ever have a copy
of that sent you?"  It read thus: " You have mome
influence among gentlemen of the king's court. Will
you try to bring' Clemency' to their notice?  Say
to them that Cop has introduced it in his classes. It
is not merely.for the sale that I ask this, although
the book has cost me all my money. I:must tax my




108        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
wits to get some of it back. I hope it will do some
good. If the king could have it put under his
eye."  (Here the writer had stopped.)
"I received a note something like that from Calvin," replied Viermey.
"What did he say the king would do if it could
be put under his eye?"
"He wrote nothing of that sort to me."
"Young man, remember, we have a way of drawing out truth by torture."
"Apply it. then; I am ready," answered the accused, in the first tide of his courage. The eyes of
the judges were fixed upon him. The awful thought
astonished him, but he had more need of strength to
calm his indignation than to control his fear.
" Take him to prison. Seize all the papers in his
office. Look for the seal of the University." This
last order did not produce the effect upon Viermey
which the judges had expected. He was not startled
nor confused. The Lieutenant-criminal, Morin, hastened to obey the commands. This sort of work was
becoming as common as it was delightful to them.
One morning Surgeon Pointet was going to St.
Saviour's to hear his favourite preacher, Courault.
Sad thoughts oppressed him, and perhaps a sermon
might dispel them. Many of his friends, named in
Calvin's papers had fled from Paris. He knew a
little of his own danger; had he known more he
would have hurried away to some retreat where the
spying priest Tielly could not have hung upon his




THE GROANING OF THE PRISONERS.   109
path. He reached the church; the door was shut;
the crowd filled the street. Where was Courault?
Was he in prison?  Had he fled?  Was he sick
from his great labours in preaching?
The people were greatly excited. Troops of
archers came and drove them away.  "I'll go to
Berthelot's," said the surgeon to himself. "He always
has the news sooner than almost any one else."
His shop had become a sort of head-quarters for the
gospel-army.
"The preachers are safe," said Berthelot.  "They
are simply forbidden to preach in the churches.
Friar Bernard is too -good to be wrathy about it,
and too wise to let the fact be turned against us.
Courault and even Roussel have consented to go to
private houses and turn their preaching into quiet
lectures. Friar Bernard will have one of them here
to-night if he can. But they want only the members
of the family present. That must include the family
physician, especially as his advice is gratuitous, and
Vallette the lodger."
"We ought to be thankful, for when one teacher
is taken away, the Lord sends another. But what
if no leader be here this evening?"
" There will be a Leader here; trust: the Lord for
that; he will be present."
The shop and parlour received more attentions
that day than ever before, for the great and eloquent
Courault was expected. Every last and lap-stone
were hidden away; no such clearing out of leather
10




110        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
was ever known within the memory of Berthelot,
who playfully said to his father, "Now do not try
to make them think you are not a shoemaker. The
story will be in the very air of the shop."
"An honest story then;" replied the brisk old
man, who had always opposed sweeping and putting
things in order, because he could "never get things
straight again." He was placing the shoes on the
shelves, and when he found that the boxes would not
hold them all, he thought it a good time to buy some
more, "so that nobody would lose the sermon by
turning to criticise a poor cobbler's work."
Berthelot's couch was overspread with a quilt that
had been handed down from his great-grandmother,
and brought out only on special occasions. But the
pride of all the arrangements was a large cushioned
chair, borrowed from the neighbour La Forge, for the
good minister —if he should condescend to come.
He did come-the celebrated Courault-at the
evening hour. He so preached that Surgeon Pointet
said afterwards, " He is as great and earnest in a
shoe-shop as in a cathedral. His speech rings with
the music of the promises."
As only a family was allowed to be present at
each of these little meetings, their number was increased. One preacher would go to several houses
on the same evening. The Lord was present with
the "two or three gathered together," and others
pressed in.: The houses began to be full. A mighty
work of conversion was going, on.




THE GROANING OF THEE PRISONERS.   1t
"These lectures are worse than the sermons in
the churches," said the Sorbonnists, on hearing of
the quiet conventicles.  Drunkards had been reformed; thieves had ceased to steal; idlers had become industrious; the poor had been made happy;
the outcasts were restored to good morals, and
wolves of the old church had become lambs of
Christ; yet all this was bad for the Sorbonne.  If
the preachers spoke so near to the hearts of the people in the little meetings, Rome would lose ground.
" Send out the hounds; the game is plenty," said
these hard-hearted doctors. Jean Morin once more
took the field.  He posted his agents on the corners
of suspected streets, that they might ferret out the
Bible-readers and exhorters.  These spies reported
dozens of houses where meetings were held. The
officers came upon them, seized many of the leaders
and scattered the flocks. Alarm fell upon the
people, who said, "we have no teachers, we are
poor sheep without a shepherd. Since our guides
are taken away, let us seek them elsewhere."
"Flee for your lives," whispered Friar Bernard,
(who was not suspected of being so firm a friend of
the true Christians,) and Courault and Roussel, who
knew not what was preparing for themselves. Many
escaped to foreign countries.
The Sorbonne felt the need of Beda, and at length'secured his return along with his chief agents
in cruelty.  He soon said, "It is not enough to put
these evangelists in prison; we must burn them.




112        YOUNG'CALVIN IN PARIS.
The flames are the best argument against heresy.
It is sure, for dead men never return."
"Let any one convicted by two witnesses be burnt
forthwith," the parliament declared.
"Apply the decree to Courault and Roussel, at
once," demanded Beda.
"Not so fast," said the doctors.  "The king's
consent must be obtained."  These good men and
other preachers were thrown into prison.
" Make one cast of the net and catch the whole
of these gospellers at once," said the doctors. Morin
went to work; he urged on his troops of spies and
officers; they entered the houses, went down into
cellars and up into garrets; here they took a father
and there a mother, and sometimes both of them,
leaving the children to starve. About three hundred of the most innocent citizens of Paris were'thrust into prison. When this news spread, the alarm
increased. "'Really," said the Surgeon Pointet,
" this is not much unlike the Spanish inquisition."
Beda was glorying in his success.  He could not
burn Roussel and his friends without the king's
consent. The appeal was made to his majesty.
"Nobody is condemned iil France," he replied,
"without a trial. Beda wishes to burn Roussel and
his brother preachers. Very well! let him first go
to the prison and put them to silence by argument."
This was not what the persecutor wanted; it was
easier to burn the chaplain than to refute him. But'the king compelled him to go. The blustering Sor



THE GROANING OF THE PRISONERS.   113
bonnist stood face to face with the meek and learned
Roussel.  One used tradition and all. manner of.
quibbles and ridiculous trifling; the other stated
great truths and proved them by Scripture.  Beda
failed; his friends were ashamed of his ignorance;
he could rave but he could not'reason; he left the
prison cell like a routed burglar, glad to get away.
The chaplain was not burnt.
One day the king/saw on the table of his sittingroom  a little book elegantly bound. A literary
friend of the truth had placed it there. The king
took it up heedlessly, and looked at the title. It
was a "Remonstrance addressed to the king," by
I3oeda and his chiefs while they were in exile. The
author was now back in Paris, and this book was the
last thing he wished his majesty to see. It was a
whimpering, cowardly petitioning for mercy.  "Ho!
ho! this book is addressed to me!" exclaimed Francis,
He read enough to find himself insulted and slandered. Never did a match more quickly kindle the
fuel, than this volume fired his anger.  "Send those
wretches to prison," was his next order.  "They
are guilty of high treason." Beda and his two chief
co-workers were soon in their cells. Still the cruel
work went on.
For days there had been gloom at the house of
the Milons. No one could tell them what had become
of the Sculptor.  Pointet was no longer to be seen.
One by one, their best friends had disappeared. On
a certain day Morin came with two officers; a rough,
10 -*




114        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
purple-faced priest had led them to the door, and
said, " Here is your man." Suddenly they strode
through the shop into the room where Berthelot was
lying. "We have come for you at'last,"'' said Morin.
"Dress yourself."
" That is something I have not done for years,"
answered the paralytic.  "I wish I could obey
you."'
"Yet you could lie here and teach more heresy
than all the preachers put together. Now you can
have a chance to try the punishment which you have
brought upon others by deluding them."
" Oh! do spare our poor helpless crippled son!"
cried his mother, reeling under the blow that had
fallen upon her spirit.
" We've spared him as long as mercy has been to
our advantage. He has been a fine decoy-bird for
us. All we had to do was to notice who came here
secretly by night, to hear a chapter or a song. His
fine voice has been very charming to our watchers,
standing out in the darkness and the storm. Make
the best of it. He must learn another tune now.
It is nonsense to parley: Sergeants! help him on
his feet."
In the most cruel manner they lifted him, tried to
compel him to stand, and threatened to scourge him.
He took it patiently, remembering Him who was
"led as a lamb to the slaughter."  They saw that
he was really and utterly unable to use his feet.
They took a cover from his-bed and prepared to




THE GROANING OF THE PRISONERS.   115
place him upon it.  "Take the couch;" urged his
mother; " it will be easier for you to carry, and will
be more comfortable    "
"More comfortable!" growled Morin.  "You
imagine that we seek his comfort, do you? The
rack is what he needs, and he may get it if he does
not confess and recant. Lay him there, and get
him ready.  *  *  *  *  Here, you priest, take
one of these corners and help carry him."
Berthelot saw that this priest was Tielly. If his
human nature could have had its way, he would,
have denounced the wretched spy until his guilty
soul would have been overwhelmed in shame. No
man more richly deserved a prison than this pro'figate priest, whom many called "father," and some
of them for natural reasons. In days of strength,
Berthelot's indignation had boiled against him.
This shaven hypocrite had first disgusted young
Milon with the religion of the Romish Church. It
had made him a scoffer and an infidel. Never had
his Christian temper been so tried and tested as now.
The old nature rose up strongly, but silent prayer
brought him another strength. He was calm, submissive, resigned.  He ignored the insults heaped
upon him. He did not murmur at the rough shaking
given him as he was raised from the floor, although
his pains were most keen whenever the tenderest
hands lifted him, or moved the light couch which
had been made to lessen his sufferings. With gentleness and. love he -bade farewell. to the motheir



'116       YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
whose lips pressed his own, and to the father who
was unmanned by. the awful grief.  They saw him'
borne away; they saw that the priest took delight in
walking as roughly as possible; they knew that he
had pangs which would cause almost any other
courageous man to shriek; they felt a horror of
Romanism  for the first' time in their:lives, and,
crushed with- their burden, they scarcely understood
how to cast it on the Lord.
In a dark, damp cell of the prison, was lying a
young man, who, for four years, had been wasting
away, and now was helpless. A new sufferer had
been thrown in with him, because the prison was
becoming' crowded, but he was suddenly removed to
another cell.-. Berthelot was put in his place. There
would be an exquisite cruelty in seeing two utterly
helpless Christians shut up together, one on each
side of a gloomy dungeon, on a little straw that
partly covered the cold stone floor.: The bearers
laid him down, saying, " This is the best we can do
for you; help each other if you can." — The hinges
grated, the-door was'closed, the key was turned, and
the two sufferers were left together.  Berthelot
groaned as some relief to his bodily pains; yet these
groans took the form of prayer.  " O Lord, how.long?"
Had they. ever met?.. They wished to'know.
They were not long in tracing points of contact in
their lives. They had once met-the reader will
remember it-it was when Berthelot left the water



THE GROANING OF THE PRISONERS.   117
man, and a student was led down by some officers
and put into a boat.  "II have been for several days
with a dear friend of yours," said the young man
whom Berquin had supported at college, and who
was dying because he was suspected of knowing
more about the mutilated image than he would reveal,
even under the most horrible tortures.  "He ha;s
told me so much about your conversion, your charities, your skill, your singing, and your warm heart,
that I wished for a sight of you. I thought I should
go soon to heaven and there watch for you."
" Who was that friend of mine?"
"He said that he was a Sculptor once, and a
bigoted papist. HIe was just now removed so that
you could be placed here. What kindness these
persecutors will sometimes do without meaning it.
But I am selfish in my choice of you. Pardon me;
you would rather have him with you."
"I could not have him at any rate. God has
ordered this kindness for each of us."
" Speak softly, or we may be deprived of it. I
want you to comfort me, and: by your prayers and
counsels give strength to my weak faith. Your
friiend was like a new soldier flushed with the joy
of his first great victory; he could not talk like
a wounded veteran who would console a poor volunteer dying in the prison of an enemy. I am such a
dying prisoner; I cannot look back upon any
triumphs in spiritual battles.: You know all about
wounds and victories, and you can comfort me."




118        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
" My comfort is sometimes that Jesus was' wounded
for my transgressions.' When the'Captain of Salvation' dies to save his army, surely none of his
soldiers will complain if they must suffer from the
arrows of the archers.  And then remember that
Jesus lives again and comes to take up his poor
wounded followers and carry them  in his arms.
My comfort, at other times, is that the Good Shepherd laid down his life for this poor sheep, and rose
again to take me in his arms and bear me safe to
hieaven.'''" That is what a kind priest has often said to me.
He comes almost every day now, and when I refuse
to recant, he says,' Be firm in your faith. Remember that beneath thee are the everlasting arms.' It
is a kindness in our persecutors to send such a
confessor to us."
" He must be Friar Bernard."  They talked long
and softly about him, and took delight in thinking
that he would visit them in the morning, Berthelot
was suffering from thirst.  A cup of water was near
his companion, but it was of no avail.  Neither of
the prisoners could rise or even creep across the
floor. The paralytic, lying on the hard floor instead of the soft springy couch at home, and having
no mother there to arrange a pillow for the night of
pain, sang his usual evening hymns, and sometime
during the dark hours he fell asleep.
The next morning a priest entered the cell.  He
was not Friar Bernard, as they had hoped, coming




THE GROANING OF TIHE PRISONERS.   119
to comfort the invalids; but Tielly rudely stalking
in to insult them. He had just been appointed their
confessor, as an exquisite mode of adding to the increasing sorrows of Berthelot. He roughly asked,
"Are you ready to confess your sins and recant
your heresy?"
"We confess our sins to God, and what you call
heresy, we hold to be the truth," replied they.
" Then take the consequences. Die like fools, if
you choose, or be burned as the accursed of the
Church."
"One word, if you please," said Berthelot with a
calm and gentle voice that almost caused the priest
to feel ashamed of his harshness, "-I have a coifession to make to you. Come and let me take your
hand."
" No one can be more willing than I am to hear
your confession," replied Tielly, hoping for some
retraction of heresy. He gave his hand to Berthelot, who held it for some time in silence.
"11 confess to you that before my conversion to
God, I once struck you in a fray at the dancing hall.
It was wrong. I have prayed that the Lord would
pardon that sin. Will you forgive me?"
"What do you say?"  The priest began to be
uneasy. He tried to pull away his hand.
-" I confess also that I have prayed that God
would soften our hearts and cause us to forgive each
other. I have tried to forgive    you."  Berthelot
was deeply moved. Tielly was so confused'that he




120        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
could find nothing to say to break the pause.  "I
confess that I have repented of all my sins, and
believed on that blessed Jesus who died for you and
for me. Oh, if you would do the same-"
The priest made no definite reply, but soon left
the cell in a quite different spirit from that in which
he had come. One of the first things that he did
was to send some little refreshments to the helpless
inmates. Perhaps he had a hand in providing a
double amount of fresh straw for them. But he was
not seen again for several days. No one entered
the dungeon, except the servant who brought them
their bread and water. Berthelot told him that his
companion would soon die, if he did not receive kind
attention, but no one seemed to care.
One night Berthelot was wakened from his sleep
by the hard breathing of his friend. He called out
to him, but there was no answer.  " Oh! if I could
only get to you," he exclaimed, but he could not
move himself. He called aloud; the halls were
silent. What could he do?  Nothing —nothing but
sing. One struggle of the dying man to speak, assured him that his hymn gave comfort. He sang
on through the awful hour; at last not a sigh was
heard. The sufferer was dead.
The burial of the corpse brought Tielly again to
thke cell. After it was over he came to Berthelot
saying, " I have tried to get an order for your release, but I cannot without being suspected of hav-ing a friendship for you."




THE, GROANING OF TIIE PRISONERS,   121
"Are we not friends? What can they do? Fear
not them that kill the body; fear only Him who can
punish the soul for its sins and its refusal to believe
in a Saviour." The priest was now willing to hear
more of the gospel than he had ever before known.
His anguish was that he had been such a great sinner, and especially, such a spy and informer against
the Christians. For several days he visited the cell
as an inquirer for the way of the new life, until he
had the satisfaction of helping bear Berthelot home,
with gentler hands than he had borne him to the
prison.  " This is the work of Friar Bernard," said
Tielly to the overjoyed mother.  "He has written
to Queen Margaret, and she has prevailed on the
king to release your son."
The Queen of Navarre had also secured the release of Roussel and Courault, but they could not
induce the king to set Pointet at liberty. This good
man must die. Tielly fled lest he should be forced
to testify against him or be thrust into prison. The
Surgeon was condemned to be burnt alive, which was
done with all possible cruelty. The decisive charge
against him was that he had been seen giving the
poor Sculptor Vallette his dinner at an inn, and
leading him to the house of the Milons.
1 1




122        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
CHAPTER IX.
1TE PLACARDS.
EIGHT months -after Calvin had fled from Paris,
he returned and showed himself at the sign of the
Pelican, where he was met with a cordial welcome
by his surprised friends.  He proposed to visit
openly many of those who had lately been released
from prison, and try to preach publicly.
"No, we beg of you to be cautious," said La
Forge, "and not expose your life. The persecution
is over for a little; the king has put a check on the
Bedists; but do not trust too much to the royal tenderness. Beware of teaching in public; let us have
the little meetings again."  Calvin yielded to these
entreaties, and became the guest of La Forge. The
hospitality was bountiful, but Calvin's chief delight
was in seeing the constant proofs of piety, charity,
and zeal in the household. His name was soon
whispered among the faithful, and the conventicles
were resumed. On many a happy evening he explained the Scriptures to the people who filled the
rooms of private houses. He missed the decided
Christian Pointet and the Rector Cop; in their place
he saw, at the meetings, some certain other prominent




TIHE PLACARDS.             123
citizens, who in later years were eminent in the Protestant Church of France as labourers and martyrs.
Calvin said that some greater attempts must be
made for the spread of the gospel. He must visit
the Rhine countries and gain wisdom from the reformers. He prepared to leave Paris to the great
grief of his many friends. Du Tillet, unwilling to
be separated from him, resolved to go wherever he
went. They set out for Strasburg, each having a
horse and a foot servant. On the way they halted
at the little town of Delme, and leaving the horses
with the servants, took a ramble through the streets.
When they came back, they found that one of the
servants had taken the valise which contained their
money, mounted the better horse, and rode away as
fast as he could. The thief was not caught. The
travelIers were in trouble. The honest servant offered
them the ten crowns that he had with him, and
they managed to reach Strasburg. Calvin afterwards went to Geneva, where he spent a most useful
and laborious life, and ended his days as a great reformer, honoured of God, and ever since by the
Christian world.
The people, who met together frequently in private
houses, talked much of what they might do. They
became impatient to see some great victory for the
gospel. They said, "We must stoutly resist the
attempt to bMing back the idols of popery into the
Church. We Seripturists must not yield to the temporizers." The first class were those who followed




124'    YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
Calvin; the second were those who looked to tl e
Queen Margaret, and hoped that her plan of a halfreform would succeed.'"Let us send a man to Switzerland to consult
William Farel and other Frenchmen who have fled
from the kingdom, and are carrying forward a wonderful reformation."
"Agreed," said they all.- "Who will go?"
There was a man named Feret, who was one of
the most artless, pious, intelligent.Christians among
them. Ile was connected with one of the royal
offices. They chose him; he departed for the land
of the: Swiss, many of whose towns had been won
from popery. He bore letters to Farel and his colabourers, who received him with joy, but heard his
story with sadness.
"You have victories here in Switzerland," said
he, " because you have brave and bold leaders. You
march and take places by storm; but in Paris we
have no heroic leaders.  We do not see great
triumphs. The altars and images are not broken
down. The temporizers are afraid to attack popery.
The Scripturists are not allowed to hold public assemblies. The king does not protect us. What
shall we do?"
"A subject ought not to rise in rebellion against
his king," said Farel, "but yet he must obey God
rather than men. If the king orders you to support
popery you are not bound to do it."
"The gospel and popery cannot exist together




TIE PLACARDS.              125
any more than fire and water," said Le Comte, who
had been one of Calvin's hearers in Paris, and was
now preaching among the Swiss.
"Popery is the fire," said Robert Olivetan, Calvin's cousin; "but how will you apply the water?"
"The mass is the abominable thing," said Farel,
in his warm style.  "It must be destroyed.  You
have broken down a few images in Paris, but you
have not boldly struck at the mass."
"How can we do it?" asked Feret.
" Circulate the New Testament," said the gentle
Olivetan, who was becoming one of its translators.
"Yes, that is the great thing," admitted Farel;
"but you must amuse those who will not read it.
Some are talking of placards. I approve of the
plan. Have a large handbill printed, and let it be
posted up throughout all Paris, and all the cities of
France."
This plan was finally adopted. There seemed to
be no other method of reaching the people. Farel
wrote the placard. He could not write without
using his trenchant style and thundering eloquence.
He made it a bold protest against error. It was
printed in two forms; one in placards for posting
upon the walls, and the other in tracts for dropping
in the streets. Feret took them and hastened to
Paris, bearing "the thunderbolt forged on Farel's
anvil."
Near the gate of St. Denis, at the sign of the
Black Horse, was a large draper's shop belonging to
11 *




126        YOUNG CALVIN IN'PARIS.
John Du Bourg.  This tradesman had not been
educated in the schools, nor had he conversed much
with the evangelists, "but for all that he had not
been denied the wisdom from heaven." He was independent in character and liked to see, understand,
and judge for himself. He was a diligent reader of
the Holy Scriptures, and he learned the gospel
tidings, which are ever too good to be kept to one's
self. Forthwith he began to tell his neighbours of
his treasures of wisdom and knowledge. He was
earnest and unwearied.
Some of his relatives shook their heads in great
doubt of him, saying, " That ardour, which makes a
great show at the beginning, will soon end in smoke,
like a fire of tow."  But they were mistaken.  The
word had struck root deep into his heart and it
could not be pulled up. The priests tried their arts,
his kinsfolk made a clamour, his customers deserted
him, and persecution threatened him, but none of
them could move him from the truth.
Let us meet in his house, said some of the men, who
were most interested in the mission of Feret, and
were impatient to hear the report of their messenger.
He laid the placard before them. It seemed very
bold when read so near the gates of the Louvre and
the walls of the Sorbonne. The brave and pious
Courault came forward, saying, "Let us beware of
posting up these papers; we will only inflame the
rage of our adversaries thereby, and increase the
persecution and dispersion of believers."




TIIE PLACARDS.            127
"Let us be cautious," replied La Forge, " of so
squaring our prudence, that it will make us act like
cowards. If we look timidly from one side to another
and do nothing, we will forsake the gospel and
Christ." They discussed the matter at length, and
a large majority was in favour of the placards.
"Where shall we circulate them?" asked one.
"All over Paris," said some.
"All over France," replied others.
" And at the same time," added De Bourg, "Let
us fix upon a night, choose the men, map out the
city, and send men to other cities to do the same."
These steps were taken. Every man returned home
with a bundle of placards and a package of tracts.
The night came; it was the 24th of October, 1534.
The selected men went cautiously about their work,
each in the quarter assigned him. They knew that
they were risking their lives: their movements were
silent and mysterious. When one of them came to
a gate, door, or wall that he had before chosen, he
listened to hear if any one was coming, if not, he
hastily posted up his bill or dropped a tract, and
hurried on noiselessly to another spot. During the
shaded hours,.the streets, the cross-ways, the market-places, the long blank walls, the old tottering
fences, the prison-doors and palace-gates, bore one
of the strongest protests against the mass ever
written. Most of these daring men returned to
their homes before daylight, but some hid themselves
to watch what would happen at the morning hour.




128        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
One by one the citizens came out of doors. They
saw the large handbills, went up to them and began
to read them. At many a place a crowd soon
gathered; hundreds of every class, with friars not a
few. Some one would read aloud the placard beginning:
TRUTHFUL ARTICLES CONCERNING THE HORRIBLE,
GREAT, AND UNBEARABLE ABUSES OF' THE POPISH
MASS, INVENTED  DIRECTLY AGAINST THE HOLY
SUPPER OF OUR LORD, THE ONLY MEDIATOR AND
ONLY SAVIOUR JESUS CHRIST.
Many persons made their remarks; some vented
their wrath and their threats; some expressed their
approval, and others simply their astonishment.
One picked up the tract and read, "Every believing
Christian ought to be very certain that our Lord and
only Saviour Jesus Christ-has given his body and
soul, his life and blood for our sanctification, by a
perfect sacrifice.  *  *  *  *  Yet there are
wretched priests, who set themselves in Christ's
place, as if they were our redeemers, and pretend
to offer [in the mass] an acceptable sacrifice to God
for the salvation both of the living and the dead."
Another read on the church wall:' By the mass
the preaching of the gospel is prevented. The time
is occupied with bell-ringing, howling, chanting,
empty ceremonies, candles, incense, disguises and all
manner of conjuration."
There were other sentences more severe than
these-too se ere indeed to gain the end desired.




THE PLACARDS.              129
Yet there were paragraphs in which the truth was
set forth in tenderness.  It must have comforted
many secret disciples to read this-" The Holy Supper of Jesus Christ reminds us of the great love with
which he loved us, so that he washed us with his
blood." Many were ready to say, " et the mass be
expelled from the churches, and the Lord's Supper
restored. 
The morning had not passed bef re the placards
produced an immense sensation. The whole people
were excited. Priests and friars went about among
the citizens telling the most absurd and false stories;
one was that the "heretics" had a plot to fire the
churches and palaces.  The Sorbonne doctors were
most furious of all. They wanted only permission
of the king to let Beda and Morin loose again upon
the believers in Christ. And what of the king?
Francis was at Blois. The gospel had secretly
gained over some of the choristers of the royal
chapel. One of them was selected to post up the
placards in that city. Ile was daring and imprudent
enough to go to the king's room and put one on his
majesty's door. The king found it in the morning
and he was enraged. I1e declared, "Let all the
gospellers be seized without distinction: I will ex'
terminate them all." The chorister was arrested,
put in chains, and sent to Paris.  Parliament was
ordered to inflict punishment upon all the " heretics."
He offered Morin an increase of salary for life, in
order to stimulate his zeal. Parliament met, and




130        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
declared, "Whosoev-er shall give information concerning the person or persons who posted up the
placards shall receive a reward of one hundred
crowns; and all who conceal them shall be burnt."
The evangelical Christians remained silent and
hidden in their houses. They knew Morin's detective
skill.  "What shall we do?" they asked.
"Take flight —escape for your lives," said some.
Fathers must part from their families and young
men must leave the aged to suffer. Many hastened
from Paris.
Jean Morin wanted to find a Christian who would
betray his brethren. A bright idea struck him: he
would seize one man and then hope to take all the
rest in his net. "You know Duroc, the sheathmaker. Go and seize him." It was done.
"Sheath-maker, you are one of the heretics, and
what is worse, you are their convener. You know
where their secret meetings are to be held. I wish
to assemble them: you will lead me to their houses."'II cannot do it. You order me to prove a traitor
to innocent men who have trusted me." Poor Duroc
trembled, for he knew that Morin was base and cruel.
"Sergeants! get a scaffold ready. This fellow
prefers to be set up for public exhibition." The
officers left the room. Morin turned again to the
sheath-maker, saying, "You have been the guide of
the people to the meetings; it is quite fair that you
begin the dance. It shall be made as lively for you
as fire czn make it. But, perhaps, you will now




THE PLACARDS.             131
come to terms and tell me who are the guilty wretches
that have made all this disturbance."
The affrighted man dare not say that the excitement would have died away if the monks and persecutors had not made such a noise and stirred up
such malice against a few men, who had committed
an act of imprudence. He was in perplexity.
Would he inform against those with whom he had
worshipped God? Would-he be the agent in leading
them to the flames? If not, he must perish. He
saw that he was on the point of being burnt. To
save himself he yielded and agreed to betray his
brethren.  "I will tell you," was his reply, "if you
will spare me."
Morin called his officials, and they started upon
their rounds. The streets were in commotion, because the Corpus Dormini (body of the Lord, a
mere wafer,) was carried solemnly through every
parish in order to wipe out the insult lately offered
to the mass. The passion had been turned from the
worship of Mary to that of the wafer. The houses
were hung with drapery, processions were moving
about, each carrying the Corpus _Domini, as if these
were so many bodies of the Lord. Morin thought
that these proceedings would help conceal his own
designs. The betrayer went before him, pale and
ashamed. He stopped, he could not speak, he
pointed to a door. The Lieutenant-criminal entered.
The startled family protested their innocence. They
were manacled and sent to prison. Morin was led




132        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
by the traitor to another house. Thus he went on
in his pitiless course, sparing none, great or small,
not even the rooms of the colleges.
By degrees the report of this horrible visitation
spread through the capital. It went on in advance
of the lieutenant. Many, who were merely friends
of learning or pleasure were in alarm, lest they
should be seized. Like hundreds of others, Nicholas
Valeton kept his watch near the window of his
house, to notice when the terrible troops were coming.
He saw Morin and his company in the street.  He
turned to his wife saying, "Here he is; take the
chest of books out of my room. I will run and meet
him. I will detain him, so as to give you time."
The young wife opened the chest, took out the
books and thrust them into a secret place. Morin
saw her husband approaching and cried out, " Arrest
this man, put him in close confine;,nent."  He then
went up the stairs, searched every corner, saw the
empty chest, but found nothing. He was impatient
to try this new prisoner with questions, and hastened
to the cell where he had just been thrown. He plied
all his arts, but could not entrap the clever Valeton.
He grew nervous; he knew that his victim was a man
of influence; he feared that if he proved nothing
against him, Valeton would bear him a grudge that
might bring him into trouble with the king, and he
resolved to destroy him in a more crafty manner.
Ie thought of the empty chest, and returned to the
house.




TIHE PLACARDS.             133
"Madame," said he to the young wife in a tone
that won credence, "Your husband has confessed
that he kept all his books and secret papers in this
trunk. Besides, we are agreed; I wish to treat him
with great mercy; I see that you are almost broken
with griet, but do not fear. If you give a certain
sum of money and tell where the books are, I swear
to you before God, that your husband shall suffer
no prejudice."
This lying trick was the unseen net, in which the
young and thoughtless wife was caught. She answered his crafty questions; she told everything,
gave up the books, and Morin went away saying to
himself, " Good! he hid his papers because he felt
guilty of heresy. When I can show that a man
suspects and condemns himself, his death is sure."
He put his spoils in a safe place and sought other
victims.  "To the Black Horse," said he to his
sergeants.
"They are coming," said one of the clerks in the
draper's shop.  "What will you do?" asked another,
looking wildly at Du Bourg, who stood more courageous than amazed.  He was seized; the clerks and
tailors in the shop loved their master, but no one
stirred to defend him.
"Oh! do not put chains on my dear husband,"
shrieked the wife, who was the daughter of another
rich tradesman. She poured forth entreaties that
were enough to melt the heart of a Spanish tormentor.
12




134        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
"Nonsense!" he exclaimed.  "None of your
cries of injured innocence here! Manacles are quite
too good for the hands that posted up the placards.
Sergeants! take this fellow away, and this disagreeable scene will be ended."  He took out a list of
names, read off those that came next, among whom
was that of the poor bricklayer, Poille.
If there was one man in Paris, who could not be
suspected of having gone through the streets on the
night of the placards, he was the paralytic. When
Morin ordered his men to the shop of the Milons,
one of them dared to say, "Do you mean the old
man? Surely Berthelot was not one of them; he
could not move off his bed."
" None of your wisdom; do you dictate to me?"
answered the lieutenant, shaking his sword. "What
do you say, Mr. Sheath-maker?"
Duroc was silent. How he remembered the pleasant hours with Berthelot, the etchings, the school in
which his little daughter had learned to write and to
draw beautiful designs!  How he thought of the
consolations, which the poor bed-ridden Christian
had given to his friends in the furnace, after he had
been in prison.
"' Speak! said Morin angrily.  " Your silence is
stronger testimony against that crippled wretch than
your words."
" Come on," said the traitor, who fainted and fell
on the way.  "Good proof of that shoemaker's
guilt," said Morin.  "Men, take care of this cow



THE PLACARDS.             135
ard; I know the house, for it has long been in my
eye. I have been there before."
He entered the shop, like one out of mind, says
the chronicler, and foaming with rage. He went
into the room where Berthelot was lying, and said,
"Come, get up."
Berthelot saw his fierce countenance, but was not
terrified. With a pleasant smile he answered, " Alas,
sir, it wants a greater master than you to make me
rise."
"Sergeants; off with this fellow. Take that box,
for it may contain some secret papers."  Berthelot
was thrown into a larger but a worse dungeon than
that in which he had seen the student die. But he
had more companions. They wondered at his calmness. Often at home he had shrieked with pain,
even when his parents moved him a little; at such
times he said, "Forgive me, mother; I forgot what
Jesus suffered while he was dying for us." But now
when enemies tossed him about insultingly, he was
like a " sheep dumb before her shearers." The
roughest handling seemed tender. He thought of
suffering with Christ. The Lord strengthened him.
His holy patience made his companions braver and
more submissive. IIis songs were like heavenly
music in their ears.
Morin went on with his cruel work, robbing innocent homes and filling up cheerless prisons.  Courault and Roussel were put under lock and key.
Queen Margaret was in deep anguish. She met the




136        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
king at Paris. But he would not listen to her
pleadings for mercy. He grew cold and even harsh
toward her. Heart-broken she left Paris in haste.
She perhaps had learned of an attempt to charge
her with the affair of the placards.
Beda was not satisfied to have this charge fixed
upon the queen, but it must be laid to her brother,
the king.  The Sorbonne must rule France, and
Beda felt that he ruled the Sorbonne. He would
show Francis that his attempt to keep down the
power of that body should be now avenged. He
would teach the king how to put him in prison or
send him into exile. Going into the pulpit he
preached a sermon filll of invective against his
majesty.  "If the king did not have these bills
posted up," he said, "he is, at least, responsible for
them. The favour which he shows to heretics and
his alliance with the king of England, are the cause
of all this mischief."
"Ho! I am to know who is my master," exclaimed the king when the sermon was repeated.
W' We shall see who is monarch here. Arrest that
vain, blustering doctor of the Sorbonne."  Beda was
seized, accused of high-treason, imprisoned, condemned, made to do penance in front of NotreDame, and shut up for the rest of his days in the
Abbey of St. Michael.  Thus died in obscurity the
man, in whom, Erasmus said, there were three thou.
sand monks.




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.         137
CHAPTER X.
FlAITH TRIIED BY FI.RE.
" CaMe back to Paris," wrote Francis to his injured sister. Margaret came. She did not find him
so gentle as she hoped. The placards annoyed him.
"You want no church, no mass, no sacraments, no
priests; nothing but your gospel and these troublesome preachers."
"You are quite mistaken," she mildly replied.
"I want the Church preserved. I want to see all
Christians united under the great bishop of Rome."
"Why don't you say the Pope at Rome?"
" That would displease some who would enter into
the grand union. Let Christ be the one Divine
head of the Church. Let the bishops and priests
become what the Apostles and early preachers were."'" What now?" the king asked, as he saw her unfolding a paper that Lefevre had drawn up for her.
" Some new scheme?"
" It is the' Seven points of the mass,' as the mass
ought to be. It says —Let the mass become a publie communion as was the Lord's Supper at the first.
Let not the priest uplift the host (wafer;) nor the
people adore it. Let the priests and -the people
12 *




138        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
take bread and wine together and celebrate the death
of the Lord. Let there be no adoration of images,
nor of the Virgin, nor of the saints. Let priests
have liberty to marry."
"What then will be left of the mass? Your plan
is just that of the placards."
"The mass will become the Lord's Supper; the
delight of all true Christians. And just think, my
dear brother, who so often came down from his
powerful throne to listen to his poor unworthy sister
-think what glory it will be for you to unite all
sects and restore the unity of the Church, broken
for so many centuries. You will not only be hailed
in coming time as the' father of letters,' but as the
restorer of the Church in France."
Francis was flattered, shaken and softened. He
saw great difficulties, however, in the way. He had
given his hand to the pope and his heart to the Medici. Margaret begged him to send for Roussel,
Courault and Berthaud-the last had been all along
one of the three great preachers. The king was
curious to hear how they would solve his difficulties,
and he sent for them.t They were led out of prison,
and Margaret presented them to her royal brother.
As she left them she was overjoyed.  "Those placards which threatened to ruin everything," thought
she, "may perhaps save everything." She was to
be deceived.
The three eloquent preachers were not so full of
flattery. If they knew of Lefevre's " seven points,"




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.          139
they had not much confidence in their success.
They were zealous for the truth. They pointed out
the errors of the mass, as if they meant to defend
the placards. The king was displeased. He sent
them back hurriedly to prison.
Two weeks had passed since the first morning of
all this uproar and persecution. Seven prisoners
were brought before their judges; among them was
poor, helpless, but happy Berthelot.  The placard
had been found in his box among other papers. If
his hand had posted up none of them, his heart was
in the work. All these seven had their property
confiscated. They were condemned to do public
penance and be burnt alive on different days. By
keeping up the fires for a longer time the court
hoped to increase the terror of heresy.
Three days after the sentence, one of the turnkeys entered Berthelot's cell, lifted the paralytic in
his arms, carried him forth, threw him into a cart,
and drove on to the Grdve. A procession followed.
As he passed in front of his father's house, Berthelot
greeted it with a smile. He waved his farewell to
his parents and pointed to heaven. He commenced
singing one of the hymns that the passers along that
street had so often heard. If he could have had his
musical instrument he would have played it as he
sang.
" Lower the flames," said the officer in command,
C" the sentence declares that he is to be burnt at a
8low fire." This was done, and the fierce men, who




:[40       YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
took him firom the cart were in haste to lay him upon
the smoking pile.
" Will not one moment be given for a confession?'
asked Friar Bernard.
"That friar ought to be with him," cried certair
monks. "' He is as bad as any of them."
The friar dared not say what was in his heart,
but the pressure of his hand told volumes to Berthelot, who said, "I do confess-."
"  ear! hear!" cried the monks and doctors, "A
recantation.  Yes, poor man, it is never too late; go
on with your confession."
"I confess that when I stood on this spot a few
years ago, and sang to a poor waterman, whom you
made a martyr, I was not a believer in his Redeemer.
I was a very reckless, wicked man, but you found
no fault with such a Barabbas as I was. You
wanted to burn only good men. I hated the doctrines of the gospel; I did not then think that I
should ever be counted worthy of this glorious death.
I have suffered with Jesus; now I am going up t6
reign with him. I confess that I have not been so
calm and patient as I ought, in my sufferings; I wish
I had done more for the poor and for the name of
Christ. May the Lord make this death a blessing
to you all."
The spirit of the paralytic was released from its
painful prison, and the body was soon in ashes.
Enemies were surprised; friends were strengthened
in the faith. With deep emotion they said to one




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.          141
another,' Oh! how great was the constancy of this
witness to the Son of God, both in his life and in
his death."
" How much good he did to the poor! Do you
know that he succeeded in his plan for regaining the
property of the waterman's widow?'
"We wondered what had become of her. We
supposed this last persecution had driven her away
or sent her to prison."
"When the young lawyer Viermey, was in prison,
he met with a witness against the men who robbed
the waterman of his home in Meaux. After their
release they came to Berthelot. He urged them to
carry the matter before the Queen of Navarre. She
laid the case before the king. He said it was Beda's
work, and he would undo it all. The widow is at
her old pleasant home now, and you may be sure
that the aged Milons will never want for any earthly
good, if she can aid them."
"And Viermey has taken the widow to wife,"
added one, "as if he were living in good old Bible
times when marriages were mentioned without any
thought of romance. If the persecutors threaten
him and his family, you may be sure that he will
have fine horses enough to carry him across the border to his friend Calvin."
The next day it was for the wealthy and decided
Du Bourg to suffer. All the tears of his wife, entreaties of his friends and appeals to the king l{ad failed
to save him. He had counted the cost when he had




112        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
posted up the placards; he was honest with God in
paying it. Among various insults, he was made to
walk in sight of his own house, with a taper in his
hand and a cord around his neck. From his windows, his friends might have seen the cruel foes cut
off that hand, which not long before, had fixed the
protest against the mass upon many a wall. He
was firm to the end, while being burnt alive. Next
came the bricklayer Poille, who was taken to a new
place, in order to edify the Romanists of that parish
by the sight of a burning heretic. When he was
speaking boldly in the name of the Lord Jesus, his
persecutors said, "Wait a little; we will stop your
prating." How they pierced his cheek and tongue,
is too horrible for us to relate.  He spoke no more,
but his face was all written over with expressions of
peace and hope.
We shall not fully reproduce the record of these
many martyrdoms. There are some persons in our
day who will not believe that the Romish Church is
the same in her spirit now that she was in those
times of blood and fire. They are offended at these
testimonies to her ancient cruelty. They will not
believe that she has lately been as cruel in Madeira,
in Italy and in South America as she dared to be.
They want to hear smooth things of Rome, whose
efforts are now unsuspected by many and almost incredible to all, to establish popery in our own land.
They will not see the papal errors. They tell us
that our liberties cannot be injured by her power.




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.         143
But whence came those liberties?  Through the
same Bible for which these martyrs died in the sixteenth century; through such men as fled from Paris
and took refuge in Geneva and Switzerland; through
such reformers as Calvin, his cousin Olivetan, his
old teacher Mathurin Cordier, and scores of heroic
men who fled for their lives from France. True
protestant liberty followed in the footsteps of the
bleeding Church of Christ, and if we pause to note
a few, out of hundreds, who gained victories for us
in the flames, let none suppose that we take pleasure
in the sight. It is painful to write of such scenes;
it tries the heart to read of them, but it strengthens
our faith to. behold the triumph of the martyrs. It
helps us to appreciate our glorious gospel and our
privileges in the Church and in the republic.
Queen Margaret's entreaties secured the release
of numerous prisoners. Among them were Roussel,
who retired to his abbey at Clairac, and afterward
became a bishop; Berthaud, who resumed the dress
of a monk and died in a cloister, and Courault, who
would not yield, as his brother preachers had done,
to Rome. He escaped from Paris, and, though
almost blind, took the road to Switzerland, where he
laboured with Farel and Calvin.
The months wore away; in mid-winter all Paris
was astir. The burnings had become common; they
were a matter of course and had not kept up the
crowds in the various parishes. Some new pomp
and parade were needed. The king wished to have




-144       YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
processions and the streets made imposing with drapery. By solemn marches and public masses he
might convince his accusers that he was "the eldest
son of the Church." The displays began on the 21st
of January, 1535. At an early hour the streets
were full of people; the roofs of the houses were
almost covered with spectators. The like had never
been seen before. Processions moved from place to
place; on altars in the streets the priests offered "an
expiatory sacrifice"-that is, the mass. Tapestry
hung over the doors of the houses, and the windows
were filled with pictures. Before each Romanist's
door was a lighted torch, "to do reverence to the
blessed sacraments and the holy relics." Never before had there been such a display of relics of the
saints.
Friar Bernard had never felt such disgust of Romanism. He had kept his real faith a secret, in
order to prove the comforter of God's hidden ones.
He went with some of the processions from six
o'clock in the morning until noon; then he slipped
away to visit the prisoners, who were quite forgotten
by the bigoted priests, so busy in deluding the
people.
"Really this is a happy place," said he to Valeton,
as he entered the cold gloomy cell. "I have just
been where the scenes must make any Christian
miserable. The streets seem  paved with human
heads. There is not a beam or a stone, jutting out
from the walls, but has somebody upon it gazing at




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.          145
the fooleries of the Church and the mockeries against
God.  They have set up an altar in front of the old
shop of the Milons. They do not seem to know
that those aged parents of the martyr Berthelot haVe
fled to Meaux. Viermey and his wife take care of
them."
"Let us bless God that they remain true to their
faith in Christ. They will greatly miss you."
"' Not very long; I will follow them as soon as you
and your friends here are released."
"Released by death, you, mean.  I will try to
bear the trial.  But oh! my wife; has she gone baclk
to the priests and to the old popery?  They have
used every crafty art with her."
"She has conquered at last.  She is safe with the
firm Madame La Forge.  She sends you every assurance of her faith.  If her father rejects her, the
Lord *ill provide for her."
These friends talked a long time upon these serious
matters.  But the passing events were brought up
again.  Said Friar Bernard, "I saw two different
bodies of St. Matthew to-day. Surely the Church is
richer than ever was the Saint himself in this respect."
"They might have a dozen if they had only
ordered them," replied Valeton.  "I have: read of
one body of St. Matthew at Rome, a second at
Padua, a third at Treves. And so of almost-every
saint; Europe has plenty of each."
"At one corner some canons stood and cried as
13




146        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
they held up a bottle,' Here is the milk of the
Virgin!'"
"A precious relic! Go to almost any petty town
or wretched convent, and you will find it. You
might collect it by the quart."
"' Here is the crown of thorns! Blessed are they
who adore it,' cried certain monks at another corner.
The deluded people trod upon each other to see it.
This relic has never before been seen in any procession in Paris."
" I have seen two or three of them in other cities,
all at the same hour, and no two alike," answered
Valeton.  "They exist by scores; it would take a
whole hedge to make so many."
"'Another train came noisily along, shouting,'Here is the real cross.' "
"Plenty of them also; I have seen several, each
of a different sort of wood. There are cart loads.of pieces scattered about among small villages and.paltry chapels, to say nothing of the great cathedrals. And the nails of the cross would fill barrels,
if they were gathered. I am so thankful that the
Lord has delivered me from these superstitions, that
I am willing to die for the truth."
Friar Bernard turned the conversation to the
comforts of that grace which has always been sufficient for the people of God. He was praying with
the prisoner when the turnkey rudely opened the
door. Morin entered with his sergeants, saying,.You are wanted at the Marksman's Cross."




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.         I47
"Are you not mistaken about the man you
want?". asked Friar Bernard.  "This is Nicholas
Valeton, who has been promised several days to
prepare his answer to the charges founded upon his
papers."
"What!" roared the lieutenant, "do you assume
to direct me?  Come, sir, you are not so free from
suspicion that you can afford to be impertinent.
We are not bound to keep any promises with heretics. The king is at the Marksman's Cross with
his train, and he must have a sight worthy of his
eyes."
Valeton and two others were hurried out of the
prison. The people in the streets were so excited
by the displays they had seen and the speeches they
had heard as well as by the king's presence, that
they could scarcely keep from tearing these Christians in pieces. The guard appeared and drove'them back. Valeton was first brought before the
pile. There were his books, which the king ordered to be burnt with him.  The wood of the pile
had..been taken from his own house, as a refined
cruelty that might affect him. But this sort of insult did not move him. He saw a new machine of'
torture before him. It was a pole, like a wellsweep, for raising a man up, swinging him over the,
flames, and letting him slowly down into them as:
often as the people demanded. Even this strappado (a Spanish invention) did not terrify him.
The priests knew that he had never been so active




148         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
a Christian. as many others; and tfey hoped to
make him recant.  They said, "We have the uniyersal church with us; out of it there is no salvation,.  Return to it.; your heresy is destroying
you.'?.Nay,; my faith will save me. I only believe in
what the prophets.and the apostles formerly preached,
and what all the company of saints believed." The
good people, who came to see their excellent friend,
admired his firmness. It was a comfort to him to see
them. IHe and they were thinking how great would
be this bereavement to his wife, who was but a recent convert to the faith. The strappado was used;
~gain. and again was the firm Christian let down
into the flames, until at last the fiends had dono
their hideous work.  This was an atrocious sport to
him  who was called "the most Christian king!"
IRomanists have praised him for the coldness and
heartlessness which he manifested as a spectator.
A Jesuit said, "The king wishes to draw down the
blessings of Heaven, by giving this signal example
of piety and zeal."
A heathen emperor had once said to the officers,
who were putting Christians to death, "Make the
wretches feel that they are dying."  The Catholic
king, F. rancis I., carried out the cruel edict, seeming
to enjoy it with his court, very much as savages do
when they burn their prisoners.  He ordered the
two others, who had been brought out with YValeton,
to be swung over the fires by the unhuman strappado,
13 *




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.          149
and then cut down into the flames. But these three
martyrs at the- Marksman's Cross did not satisfy his
majesty and his courtiers.  "To the Halles! to the
JIalles!" was the cry, and a mass of people rushed
thither expecting a second entertainment of a similar
kind.  The king and his train of nobles had scarcely
reached the spot, when the frightful strappado was
set in motion. A rich fruit-merchant of the Halles,
highly esteemed in all that quarter, was made a
victim. Two others followed. The king and court
witnessed their convulsions without a shudder, nor
did they cringe with horror as the burning pile sent
forth its awful odours upon the air. There were,
doubtless, many Romish spectators, who felt for the
intense sufferings of the innocent Christian martyrs,
but there was no evident sign of compassion; the
best of them suppressed their tenderest emotions.
Francis returned to the Louvre, satisfied for the
time. The courtiers around him declared that the
triumph of the " Holy Church" was for ever secured
in the kingdom of France. But the people were
not so calm; they displayed a cruel joy; they felt
a thirst for blood which could scarcely be assuaged,
and which would appear again in later years, and in
other centuries. Passing over the massacres of
1572, we find another twenty-first of January in
French history. The date is remarkable. We do
not assume that there is any judicial connection
between them. But on one of them, Francis First
was devoting to death a most innocent part of the
13 *




~150        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
people; on the other, four hundred and fifty-eight
years later, the people were executing Louis Sixteenth, the most innocent and generous of the Bourbons. In the latter case, vengeance against the
throne was not designed by the people, for the
awful day of 1535 was not in their minds. Nor
were they the protestant descendants of the martyrs,
acting in the name of Christians, who made the
twenty-first of January, 1793, a day of blood. But,
perhaps, the Righteous Judge meant to teach, that
where rulers destroy the people for their faith in
God, the tide may one day turn in retribution upon
their successors. France was destroying the very
foundations of the throne, which Louis would vainly
strive to make secure.
The king and his officers felt some little vexation; certain nobles, professors, priests, and citizens
were not, to be found. They were condemned, and
their goods confiscated. They were called Lutherans; they were such men as Cordier, Calvin, and
Courault.  One of them  was the poet, Clement
Marot, who wrote from a foreign land to the king,
thus:
They call me Lutheran-a name
I have no right to wear;
Luther came not from heaven for me,
Nor did he die upon the tree,
My sins to bear.
This poet was to give to the Reformed Church of
France, which rose up a few years after in great




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.         151
glory, the versions of the Psalms that were sung
everywhere in the land. Calvin was to go to Geneva, and with his pen give to France, and the
Christian world a theology. Marot touched the
harp of David, and thousands rejoiced with song:
Calvin opened the writings of Paul, and the true
faith spread through the world.
Among the quiet scholars, who might have felt
that they were safe from persecution, was John
Sturm, one of the first modern teachers, who adopted
the plan of making philosophy clear to his pupils,
and had a simple method of instruction. In his
earlier years he had worked at the printing-press,
and also had become an author. Ile went to Paris
in 1529, to sell his books. He studied law, then
medicine, and afterwards devoted himself to classical
literature. A doctor of the Sorbonne, one day,
asked him to explain something in the Epistle to
the Romans. He commented on it as he would on
the letters of Cicero, for he knew not the Scriptures.
But a Swiss friend paid him a visit and showed him
the writings of Bucer. He read them. He was
interested in the doctrines of the Reformers. He
was one who crowded in among the hundreds that
went to hear Gerard Russel, at the Louvre. He
found the gospel and believed. The king gave him
a professor's chair in the Royal College, where he
grew famous for learning and eloquence.
The placards came; he condemned them. Burnings and banishments became the order of the day,




152        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
and he trembled. Broken-hearted at the sight of
such woes, he abandoned his labours. Many of the
martyrs were his friends; they had eaten at his
table. In his house, equally open to the shelterless,
or the social, he had extended a large hospitality to
many who had fallen under the ban of the enraged
king. Even if he felt no personal fear, he seemed
to expect a general breaking up of all literary enterprises. Who would ever come to study in a city
*where liberty of thought was forbidden, and where
Bible-readers were burned?  He was cast down
when giving his lessons at the College. Before his
eyes were the constant glare of the flames that
had reduced to ashes those whom he loved. It
seemed to him that barbarism  was about to extinguish the torch of learning, and once more overturn society.
": Where are the brothers DRuval?" he asked, one
day; "one of them the keeper of the privy-purse,
and the other the keeper of the lodge in the great
park where the king drives and hunts?"
" Gone in haste," replied Gaspar Camel, a nephew
of William Farel, "and two clerks of the treasury
have fled. -Some are hiding in the villages, and
others have hastened out of the kingdom. The best
servants of the king are no longer favourites."
"I shall go to Strasburg at once," said the professor.
"And I to Dauphiny, my romantic home, where
L can:hide among -the mountains', Wherever we go,




FAITT  TRTED BY FIRE.         153
wVe will find company enough, for the people are
hurrying along every road in France."'
" But where shall we go?' asked scores of humbler ones who knew of no friends to give them
refuge. Many went out not knowing whither they
went. They could carry nothing with them, but
the spirit of faith and forgiveness.  They were
sometimes obliged to hide themselves in barns and
woods, disguising themselves in coarse garments,
and enduring hunger and thirst, in order to elude
their enemies. Among them was the sister of Ber-'thelot Milon, who could not bear to remain in the
city where her helpless brother had been burned.
The learned John Sturm went to Strasburg, where
he was yet to add to his good fame and influence by
giving the best instruction to youth.  He at once
sat down at his desk and poured forth his sorrows
to Melanchthon. "' Oh, what uneasiness," he said,
"'What anxiety, must not your heart. feel in this
hour of furious tempests and extreme danger! We
were in the best, the finest position, thanks to wise
men; and now behold -us, through the advice of
_unskilful men, fallen into the greatest calamity and
supreme misery. **  * * In the midst of these great
and numerous evils, there is only one hope leftthat the people are beginning to be disgusted with
such cruel persecutions, and that the king blushes,
at last, at having thirsted for the blood of these
an:fortunate men. But we, do not despair. God
reigns. He will show us the port where we can take




154        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
refuge; he will give good men an asylum where they
will dare speak their thoughts freely."
From this time the French king no longer showed
the same favour to men of learning, and especially,to that learning which embraced the gospel. He
hated such doctrines as had been placarded on the
door of his palace, and grew suspicious of everything
connected with the Reformation. Protestantism
must perish, unless God should intervene and restore
what man has sought to destroy.  "I am determined," wrote the king to the protestant princes of
Germany, "to crush these new doctrines, and to
check this disease, which leads to frightful revolts,
from spreading further. No one has been spared,
whatever his country or rank."
Already had he assembled together the nobles
-and clergy of Paris, and said to them: "I have
summoned you to beg of you to put out of your
hearts all opinions that may mislead you * * * and
if you know any person infected by this perverse
sect, be he your parent, brother, cousin, or connection, give information against him * * * If I
saw one of my children defiled by it, I would not
spare him * * * I would deliver him up myself,
and would sacrifice him to God."
The king paused-wept. The hearers burst into
tears. With voices, broken by sobbing, they all
exclaimed: "We will live and die for the Catholic
religion." Better have wept at the Marksman's
Cross!




FAITH TRIED- BY FIRE.         155
Francis the First, the " father of letters," ordered
that no printing should be done in the, realm without
his license, under pain of the gallows! This savage
edict was not carried out, because the Reformation
was toc strong for tyranny to prosper. He commanded all the parliaments to root out the " heresies," but this was not done, for God was raising up
that glorious church, which was, in another age, to
furnish the victims of St. Bartholomew's day.
One day in February, Stephen La Forge, Calvin's
friend and host, was dragged in a cart to the scaffold. He was sixty years old, and some pitied him,
saying, "He is a rich man, a good man, who has
given away much to the poor." It did not matter;
he was burnt alive. Three days later a goldsmith,
a painter, and a sculptor had a wonderful mercy
shown them. The king wished to see the arts
flourish; these three men should not be slain.
They should only be beaten within an inch of
death, deprived of their goods and banished! The
sculptor was Vallette.
"How shall I find my way to a refuge?" exclaimed the timid sculptor, who was allowed three
days to remain in the city.  "I have no goods to
sell; my purse is empty. I dare not apply for
work in the villages, and I cannot beg." He almost
wished, sometimes, that he might have been put to
death.
"Recant, burn your heretical books and make a
full confession to the priests," said one of his former




156        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
companions, who had turned back to the old way,
and who knew that Vallette was in- deep distress.
"'The king has. shown more mercy to you than toi
others, because he values your talents. He will
gladly pardon you, and then you may become. a
great artist, and gain the height of your ambition."
"Recant! Burn my Testament! Never-not
for my life I" answered the sculptor, repelling the
insult to his honour, and to the sincerity of his
religious faith.
"'Be careful; one in your condition must not
think aloud on the corner of these streets."'CYes, I must be on my guard before men; 1
know not who may betray me. But I do not fear
that my words will be offensive in the sight. of God,
when defending his holy religion. Silence has been
enjoined upon me; already I have laid myself liable
to a new arrest. But, dare you betray me?"
"No; not for the world. You have been my
kindest friend. You got employment for me when
I was almost starving. I want to save you- from
being a wanderer over the earth."
"And that at the expense of my religion-my
very soul! It cannot be. I choose rather to suffer
affliction with the people of God. I -prefer to be
among those, who, my Testament- says,'had trial
of cruel mockings, and scourgings, yea, moreover,
bonds and imprisonments. They were stoned, they
were sawn asunder, were. tempted, were slain with
the sword; they wandered about in sheep-skins and




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.          157
goat-skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented; of
whom the world was not worthy; they wandered il.
deserts, and. in mountains,. and in dens and caves of
the earth.' I would rather be like my blessed Lord,.
who had no place where to lay his head, and who,
was betrayed by a courteous Judas, and put to death
for us, than to have the favour of kings and the
cruel mercies of a persecuting church."
"Not se loud, my friend, or you will betray yourself. You do not know but that every other mane
who passes by is one of Morin's detectives. Let
us walk."
"Whither?  I was. only venturing out a little to
see if I could find Friar Bernard,"
" Come, then, I will show you where he is. Not
ten minutes ago I saw him enter the house of your
excellent friends, the La Forge family. They are
overwhelmed with grief. Jeanne is scarcely expected to live."
Yallette was agitated.. He walked on in silence;.
He had been in prison, and he only knew that;
Stephen La, Forge had been suddenly executed.
His thoughts: had turned to. that generous family
as: soon as; he was set free. He wished to thank:
them, and bid themt farewell, expecting never to see.
them again. HIis feet had led him to the door, not
an hour previously; he had lingered, seen the.
windows darkened, suspected. that family had fled,
or feared something more dreadful. His diffidence
had. prevented him from making any inquiry at the
14




158         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
door. The two young men now came near the
house.
"We are just in time," said Vallette's guiding
friend, " for there is Friar Bernard standing in the.
door. Catch his eye, and I will leave you."
"Is it possible?" said Friar Bernard, stepping
upon the pavement and grasping the hand of the
sculptor, when his friend went on his way.  "Are
we to see you once more before you set out as a
pilgrim and stranger, seeking a rest-that rest
which remains for the people of God?"
" Come in thou blessed of the Lord," said Madame
La Forge, using the salutation which was so often
on the lips of her martyred husband.'" Friar Bernard will come also, and point out to you the words
of comfort."
They were soon seated in the room which had
often been filled with God's hidden ones, who there
had renewed their vows to God, their pledges to one
another, and their spiritual strength. In tears they
spoke of the past, and in gloom of the future..' Remember," said Friar Bernard, "that our Lord
declared,'Blessed are they which are persecuted
for righteousness' sake; for theirs is the kingdom
of heaven. Blessed are ye, when men shall revile
you, and persecute you, and say all manner of evil
against you falsely for my name's sake.' "
" How often," said Madame La Forge, "did our
Calvin close his sermons with the words:'If God
e for us, who can be against us?' And my young




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.          -59'
friend you will be glad to know that we have just
heard of the good leader of our little meetings."
"Does Calvin dare to write to any one here?"
asked Vallette.
"Not yet; we will have letters, however, if we
remain in this city, as soon as there will be less
danger of their being found, and thus involving his
friends in new troubles. He does not forget us.
A courier, who is not suspected, has seen him at
Basle, and he brings us his messages of sympathy."
Calvin had heard of the martyrdom of many of
his friends. He grieved to think that certain of
them  had been implicated in " heresy" by the
papers left in his room at the college of Fortret.
And the remembrance of their hospitality brought
him to tears.  How often had he sat at Du Bourg's
table, shared in the generosity of La Forge, and
conversed with the poor cripple! He thought day
and night of the cruel work going on in Paris. He
resolved to do something to turn away the sword
that threatened other lives, "If I do not oppose it
righteously, and to the best of my ability, I shall
fairly be called a coward, and disloyal to God on
account of my silence. I will reply to the wicked
tales that are circulated against my brethren; and
as similar cruelties may be practised against many
other believers, I will endeavour to touch foreign
nations with some compassion in their favour.":Such were some of the reasons which led him to




160        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
shut himself up among his books and write the Institutes of the Christian Religion-a work for which
he had been long preparing. Never did a noble book
have a nobler origin. As he wrote the first pages
of it, he was thinking of the extreme sufferings of
his faithful brethren. In another work, he said:
"The memory of the late Stephen de La Forge
ought to be blessed among the faithful as that of a
holy martyr to Christ."
How much was there to be recalled concerning
him by those who still remained in Paris! Nor did
they alone remember him. Let us notice the picture drawn of Calvin in Paris, by a Roman Catholic
of a later day. Pasquier says of him: "Devoted
otherwise to his books and his study, he was unweariedly active in everything that concerned the
advancement of his sect. We have seen our prisons
gorged with poor, mistaken wretches, whom he
exhorted without ceasing, consoled or confirmed by
letters; nor were his messengers wanting, to whom
the doors were open, notwithstanding all the diligence exercised by the jailors. Such were the proceedings by which he commenced, and by which he
gained, step by step, a part of our France." No
wonder that he had warm friends in Paris who
talked of him with tears.':'I wish I could follow him,''" said Yallette.
" Perhaps Basle:could furnish -some work for a poor
sculptor."
Why can you not go?" inquired Madame La




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.         161
Forge, "although we should part with you in
sorrow."
Vallette did not like to confess his poverty. Friar
Bernard understood the meaning of his silence, and
said: "You shall have the means. I have something to share with you. I must keep enough to
help myself away when I find that I am suspected'
of heresy, er of aiding those who love their Saviour
and his gospel. My time may soon come."
"And I shall be most happy to assist you, for
you may do us a favour. We will leave the city as
soon as Jeanne is able to go. Viermey, who often
is here, will dispose. of our property. You can look
us out a home in some of the towns along the Rhine,
or in some valley of Switzerland, where the Reformation is established, and we will follow you." Vallette took courage, and left Paris the next day.
He was cheered by the hope of benefiting his
friends.
The next week Friar Bernard visited a young
Italian, who was condemned to the flames. He saw
the martyr's wife refused a parting word; she went
home, and shortly after, "died of grief at such
infamy."
About the same time two ribbon weavers came to
Paris from Germany, bringing with them a Lutheran
book. They stopped at an inn. "Landlord," said
one of them imprudently, "take care of this book,
while we go into town, and do not show it to anybody."
14 *




162        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
"It shall be safe," was the reply. The travellers
took their round through the streets. The innkeeper was curious to know what sort of book had
been entrusted to his hands.  He turned it round
and round, tried to read, but it was all German to
him. He went out and showed it to a priest.
"It is full of heresy," said the priest, after opening it.  "It is a damnable book. You cannot do a
better service than to have its owners arrested."
" I'll send word to Morin."  In a short time the
two innocent travellers were seized, condemned to
have their tongues cut out, and burned, "alive and
contumacious," says a journalist of that day.
Paris was not the only place in France where
such cruelties were visited upon the innocent Christians. A poor girl had been in service at Rochelle,
where her master had taught her the good news of
salvation. She returned to her native town in
Vendde. One day, a gray friar was preaching
there, and she went to hear him. After the sermon,
when none others were present, she said to him,
"Father, you do not preach the truth."
" How do you say?" he replied.  " If you are
so wise, point out the truth to the preacher."
" Here it is in the word of God."  The friar was
ashamed, confused and angry. He could not-very
well bring charges against his instructor, for there
were no witnesses present. But he laid his plot.
He preached again. He resolved to get himself
reprimanded a second time in the presence of other..




BAITHI TRIED BY FIRE.         163
persons. He insulted the doctrines of grace. The
poor girl was so indignant that she said: "If you
insult the gospel, the wrath of God will be against
you."
"There is another wrath now due to you for insulting a priest," rejoined the friar. She was soon
after condemned to the stake, and endured her
punishment with such patience, that her courage
caused great admiration.
At Arras, in Artois, there was the chapel of the
Holy Candle. There was a candle in it which the
priests said, had been sent down from heaven, and
was never consumed. The devout used to sing
hymns to it. It was the custom to have watchers
every day and night around this holy candle.
Nicholas, surnamed the Penman, heard the story
about this-wonderful taper, how it never would burn
out, and said, "that is what we will see."
" If they would let us be the watchers for a while
we might," said two of his friends, who had received
from Nicholas much instruction in the gospel.  One
day they were appointed to keep the watch. They
took their station, and were careful not to go to
sleep. The priests had no chance to creep in with
a new candle, on account of these inquisitive men;
an old trick that the superstitious people had never
detected. So the perpetual candle came to an end,
as might be supposed.
"Come in, you poor idolaters," said Nicholas,
the next morning, "and: see how the holy light has




164         YOUNG CALVIN IN PARIS.
gone out.  There is nothing left but the burnt out
wick." As a reward for this discovery, the three
Christians received the crown of martyrdom together.
Thus the persecution raged throughout France.
"One sees nothing in Paris," wrote a Roman Catholic eye-witness, "but gibbets set up in various
places, which surely terrify the people. of the said
Paris, and those of other places, who also see gallows and executions." Another chronicler says:
"But for ten that were put to death, a hundred
others sprang up from their ashes."
One winter's day, Calvin saw an old man arrive
at Basle; he was half blind, and felt his way as he
walked. It was Courault, whom Queen Margaret
had freed from the convent, where he had been shut
up. It was a great joy to Calvin to see this venerable Christian again. The refugees gathered around
him. They wanted to hear the terrible news from
Paris. As he described the woes of the faithful,
cries of sorrow rose from all who had friends still
exposed to the horrors of the stake. Courault was
followed by other fugitives. Nicholas Cop was
already there, having been for some time on the
watch for his friend Calvin.
The true Christian peeple of the towns and cities,
where these refugees sought protection, were given
to hospitality. At Strasburg, the house of the good
pastor, Matthew Zell, was known to all Christian
travellers, and especially to the exiles from all
lands. Ile often had a large number of persecuted




FAITH TRIED BY FIRE.         165
wanderers around his table every day for weeks.
At one time, there came one hundred and fifty men,
who had left their homes, at Brisgau, in the middle
of the night, and reached the city in great distress.
It was night, but Catharine, the pastor's-wife, found
means to lodge four-score of them in the parsonage,
and for a month had nearly sixty of them at her
table. She was never weary in well-doing. We
may suppose that many an exile from Paris, coming
to her door, with the love of Christ in his heart,
was welcome to the best that her hands could supply.
Ten years after these events John Calvin was
passing through a little town in Switzerland on a
very rainy day. At the door of a school-house he
saw a man whom he thought he had seen before in
Paris. As he often met such former acquaintances,
his glance became a fixed gaze. It was returned
by the teacher of the school, who asked, "Is this
our dear Calvin?"
"Is this my modest Vallette?" was the reply.
They spent no short time in their greetings and inquiries.
"You must stop for the day. I will have you
talk to my scholars as long as you choose, and dis.
miss them. Then you will come to my home."
Calvin hesitated. "Would you not like to see
Jeanne La Forge?"
"Surely; it would be worth a week's lingering
in this town."
"You shall see her, and her aged mother, for she




166        YOUNG CALVIN IN PARTS.
is now Madame Vallette." Calvin addressed the
scholars, went to a little cottage, and spent twentyfour of the happiest hours of his life. From their
varied experiences, these friends drew fresh commentaries upon the text, "Fear not little flock, for
it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the
kingdom." They parted with those golden words,
"If God be for us, who can be against us?"
THE END.