Theodore Beza

8/17/2019 Theodore Beza

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/theodore-beza 1/462

This is a reproduction of a library book that was digitized

by Google as part of an ongoing effort to preserve theinformation in books and make it universally accessible.

http://books.google.com

https://books.google.com/books?id=pjk9AQAAIAAJ



heo ore

tounsellor

r e n c h

eor tion519 16 5

a r t y n



REESELIBRARY

O F

THE

UNIVERSITYOFCALIFORNIA

Class









HEROES OP THE REFORMATION.

I .

—

Martin

Luther

( 1 4 8 3 - 1 5 4 6 ) .

The

Hero

of

the

Reformation. By Henry E y s t e r

J a c o b s ,

D.D.,

LL.D.

I I .—Philip Meianchthon(i497-156o). The

Protestant Preceptor of

Germany.

By

James William R i c h a r d ,

D.D.

I I I .

—

Desiderius

Erasmus

( 1 4 6 7 - 1 5 3 6 ) . The

Humanist i n

the

Service of

the

Re

formation.

By

Ephraim

Emerton, Ph.D.

I V .

—

Theodore Beza ( 1 5 1 9 - 1 6 0 5 ) .

The

Counsellor of

the

French Reforma

t i o n . By Henry Martyn B a i r d , Ph.D.

G . P . PUTNAM'S SONS

NEW YORK

AND LONDON



Iberoes

of

tbe

IReformatton

E D I T E D B Y

S a m u e l f l D a c a u l e s 3 a c f e e o n

P R O F E S S O R

O F

C H U R C H

H I S T O R Y ,

NEW

Y O R K

U N I V E R S I T Y

A i a t p « ' < r « t s ^ a p i a ' f t a T W i ' , t o 5 e a v r b i r e e y / i a .

D I V E R S I T I E S

O F

G I F T S , B U T

T H E

S A M E S P I R I T .

THEODORE

BEZ





:





TlIEODORKI.

the

cor\sr; ;

:

THE

ERENC

I Nl'.l •

riENRY M.\kiY\

• ,

A ' . v ' » , H I V T ' . ' J Y O K * I * h l > } > * , ■

G.

I ' . i 1

»

'

V

S

r

' \

NEW \ < ; 1 . . - i I < • < V

:

Zbc l i i i i c h c

i

i \ v i i c v r<c»





Theodore

Beza

THE

COUNSELLOR

OF

THEFRENCHREFORMATION

1519-1605

BY

HENRY MARTYN BAIRD

i i

P R O F E S S O R I N NEW Y O R K U N I V E R S I T Y

A U T H O R O F " H I S T O R Y O F T H E R I S E O F T H E H U G U E N O T S O F F R AN C E , " " T H E

H U G U E N O T S A N D H E N R Y O F N A V A R R E , " A N D " T H E H U G U E N O T S A N D

T H E R E V O C A T I O N O F T H E E D I C T O F N A N T E S "

G.

P . PUTNAM'S

SONS

NEW

YORK AND

LONDON

Zbe I f t i U c f t e r b o c f e e r p r e s s

1 8 9 9



REESE

•5 SB

C o p y r i g h t ,

1 8 9 9

B Y

HENRY

MARTYN BAIRD

E n t e r e d a t S t a t i o n e r s ' H a l l , L o n d o n

T Z b c

I f t n f c f e e r b o c f c e t

i p r c 6 s »

H ew

i & o r f e



PREFACE

IT

i s

not a

l i t t l e surprising that there seems to be

no

l i f e of

Theodore Beza accessible to the

gen

eral

reader

either

in English or

i n French. In

Ger

man

there i s , i t i s true,

a

satisfactory

biography

by

Heppe, written for

the

series of

the

Lives and

Select Writings of the Fathers and- Founders of

the

Reformed Church, edited by Hagenbach, besides

a

masterly work

undertaken by that eminent

scholar,

J . W. Baum,

on

a much larger

scale, but unfor

tunately

l e f t

incomplete

at his

death.

Both

bio

graphies, however, were published many years ago,

and by Baum the l a s t

forty

years of

the

activity of

Beza are

not

touched upon at a l l .

Yet/ of

the heroes of the

Reformation Theodore

Beza i s

by

no means the least attractive.

Kis

course

of activity

was

long

and

b r i l l i a n t . He

presided

over

the Reformed Church

in the French-speaking coun

t r i e s through a protracted

series

of

years,

i t s recog

nised counsellor and leader

in times

of

peril

both

to Church and to State.

The

friend of Calv in,

he

was

also the

friend and adviser of Henry

IV.

until

within f i v e years of that monarch's end. Thus his

permanent influence c an scarcely be exaggerated./

Moreover, his

career was

rich i n incidents

of

drama

t i c

interest.

Certainly

no

more

impressive

and

174389

i i i



iv

Preface

romantic scene c a n be found

i n

the history

of the

period

than

the

appearance

of

Beza

at

the

Colloquy

of Poissy, when

for

the f i r s t

time Protestantism

secured a

hearing

before

the

King and royal

family,

i t s

ad vocates not

being forced upon their unwilling

notice,

but,

on

the

contrary, formally invited to set

forth the

reasons

for i t s

existence

and for i t s separa

tion from the Roman

Catholic Church.

The history of Protestantism in France could not

be

written

with

the

part

played

by

Beza

omitted.

The author ha s therefore

had

not

a

l i t t l e to sa y of

him in his History

of

the Rise

of

the Huguenots and

i n his Huguenots and Henry of Navarre.* But the

protagonist in the drama of the French Reformation

m erits s ep a ra te treatment, and

a

thorough

know

ledge of the man

and

of

his work

requires

a develop

ment of

his l i f e

and actions

that could find

no p l a ce

i n

a

general history.

For

the

facts I

have

gone back

to the

original

sources, most

of

a l l

to

Beza's own autobiographical

notes and to his l e t t e r s .

An

indefatigable

writer,

Beza

ha s

l e f t us

a

great

mass

of

correspondence,

much of

i t

of historical

importance. A portion

of

that which he

judged

to be of

most permanent

value

in

i t s

bearing

upon

theolog ic a l s ubj ec ts

saw

the

light during his lifetime, f i r s t separately and after

wards i n his

collected

theological works, entitled

Tractationes

T l i e o l o g i c c e .

I shall

have

frequent

oc

casion to draw upon these. Of his correspondence

more strictly historical in interest, down to and i n

cluding the Colloquy of Poissy, Professor

Baum

1

New

York

: C h a r l e s

S c r i b n e r ' s

S o n s ,

1 8 7 9 , 1 8 8 6 .



Preface

v

gathered a large store in the documentary append

ices

of his biography. Professor

Baum

had also,

many years

since,

copied

with

his

own

hands,

but

not

utilised,

several hundred letters s t i l l preserved

i n the libraries of Geneva, Zurich, Basel, e t c . These

copies

have recently

become

the property of

the

French Protestant Historical Society and been

added to that society's rich collections i n Paris.

Most of

these

letters

have

never

been published.

I

have

been

able

to

secure

for

my

book

many

interest

ing facts

and illustrations derived from this

source.

Besides his l e t t e r s , I have made great use of Beza's

extended treatises contained i n

the

collection already

referred t o . The original chronicles and memoirs

of the time, including the Histoire

EccUsiastique

des

Eglises Reformees, erroneously attributed to Beza

himself, but

undoubtedly

composed under his gen

eral

supervision,

have been

my

guide

throughout

the

narrative. For the t i t l e s of most of these works

I refer the rea der

to

the appended Bibliography.

As

in

my earlier

histories, so i t i s

now

again both

a duty and a

pleasure to

express

my

gratitude to

Baron

Fernand de Schickler

and Mr.

N. Weiss,

president and secretary

respectively

of the French

Protestant

Historical Society,

for

many

acts

of

kindness

and for valuable help in my later r e

searches. I owe to the courtesy of Mr. Ferdinand

J .

Dreer, of

Philadelphia,

the

facsimile of an inter

esting letter of the Reformer, now in his rare col

lection

of manuscripts.

New York University,

September

1 5 ,

1 8 9 9 .





CONTENTS

CHAPTER

I

CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH I

V e z e l a y—B i r t h—P a r e n t a g e—Marie B o u r d e l o t—C h i l d

hood i n P a r i s—Becomes a P u p i l o f

Wolmar

a t O r l e a n s

and Bourges—F e l l o w - S t u d e n t o f C a l v i n—B e g i n s C i v i l

Law

—Love f o r C l a s s i c a l

L i t e r a t u r e

—S u c c e s s i n P o e t r y—

A L i c e n t i a t e

i n Law—

R e t u r n s t o

P a r i s .

CHAPTER

I I

BEZA

IN

PARIS

6

P r e s e n t

and P r o s p e c t i v e Revenues—Mental

S t r u g g l e s

—

Repugnance

t o P r a c t i c e o f t h e

Law

—Urgency o f h i s

F a t h e r—

His S t u d i e s—E x t e r n a l Q u i e t and

I n t e r n a l Un

r e s t

—S e c r e t Marriage w i t h C l a u d i n e Desnoz—F i r s t L i t

e r a r y E f f o r t—

The y u v e n i l i a

—

Not

Attacked

t i l l a f t e r

B e z a ' s

C o n v e r s i o n

—

His Own R e g r e t

—E t i e n n e

P a s q u i e r ' s

E s t i m a t e

—

m i t a t i o n o f

Ovid and C a t u l l u s .

CHAPTER I I I

1 5 4 8 - 1 5 5 0

conversion—

all to

lausanne—abraham's

sacrifice"

2

I l l n e s s

—His Own Account o f h i s C o n v e r s i o n— e t i r e s

w i t h h i s

Wife

t o Geneva—F i r s t I n t e n t i o n t o Become a

P r o t e s t a n t P r i n t e r

—

Jean

C r e s p i n

—

e r s o n a l

Appearance

v i i



v i i i

Contents

—Kindly R e c e i v e d by Calvin—V i s i t s Wolmar a t

Tubingen

— i e r r e V i r e t—Annexation o f t h e P a y s

d e

Vaud

by

Bern

( 1 5 3 6 )

—

E s t a b l i s h m e n t o f P r o t e s t a n t i s m

—

D i s p u t a

t i o n

i n C a t h e d r a l

o f

Lausanne

—C a r o l i ,

F a r e l ,

and

B l a n c h e r o s e—I c o n o c l a s m—"

Academie" o r U n i v e r s i t y

—

Beza

C a l l e d

t o

C h a i r

o f Greek

—

H e s i t a n c y

and Acceptance

—

His

Second P o e t i c a l Work—

Drama

o f Abraham's

S a c r i f i c e .

CHAPTER IV

1 5 5 4

T R E A TI S E

ON

THE

PUNISHMENT

OF

H E R E TI C S

.

E x e c u t i o n o f M i c h a e l S e r v e t u s—

P r o t e s t

S i g n e d

"Martin

B e l l i u s "—

A s c r i b e d

t o S e b a s t i a n C h a s t e i l l o n

o r C a s t a l i o

—

His S c h o l a r s h i p—Beza M a i n t a i n s

t h a t

H e r e t i c s

o u g h t

t o

b e P u n i s h e d by t h e C i v i l M a g i s t r a t e—Even C a p i t a l l y—

His Arguments from Holy

S c r i p t u r e .

CHAPTER

V

1 5 4 9 - 1 5 5 8 .

BEZA'S ACTIVITY AT LAUSANNE

I l l n e s s

—

The

"

F i v e S c h o l a r s

o f Lausanne

"

—

Labours

f o r

t h e i r R e l e a s e

( 1 5 5 2 ,

1 5 5 3 )—

B e z a ' s B r o t h e r

and

h i s F a t h e r

Try t o

B r i n g

him

back t o F r a n c e

and t o

Roman C a t h o l i c

i s m—

r o v i d e n t i a l L e a d i n g s

—

Renewal

o f

A l l i a n c e be

tween Bern and Geneva—P e r s e c u t i o n

o f

Waldenses by

French P a r l i a m e n t o f Turin ( 1 5 5 6 )—Beza and F a r e l I n

t e r c e d e w i t h Z u r i c h , B a s e l , and S c h a f f h a u s e n —With

German P r i n c e s—Beza P l e a d s f o r C h r i s t i a n

Union

—

Piedmont R e v e r t s t o t h e Duke

o f

Savoy— e r s e c u t i o n a t

P a r i s

—

B e z a ' s

New

I n t e r c e s s i o n

—

His

I r e n i c

E x p o s i t i o n

o f t h e Reformed F a i t h— n c u r s Danger o f A l i e n a t i n g Old

F r i e n d s— s

Defended by

C a l v i n .

CHAPTER VI

1 5 5 8 ,

1 5 5 9

B EC OM E S

CALVIN'S COADJUTOR—ECTOR OF THE

UNIVERSITY

OF

GENEVA

Why

Beza L e f t Lausanne—P i e r r e V i r e t A d v o c a t e s S t r i c t e r

D i s c i p l i n e

—

O p p o s i t i o n

o f

Bern

—

B e z a ' s

A t t i t u d e

—

Re



Contents

ix

moves

t o

Geneva ( 1 5 5 8 )— a l v i n ' s

P l a n o f

a True

Uni

v e r s i t y

—

T h e o l o g i c a l

S c h o o l w i t h

Beza

a s

R e c t o r

—

Other

S c h o o l s P r o j e c t e d—Solemn Opening

( 1 5 5 9 )

—The

Livre

du

J i e c t e u r — C a \ \ ' m and

Beza L e c t u r e

o n A l t e r n a t e Weeks

— e l f - S a c r i f i c e—

S u b s c r i p t i o n t o

C o n f e s s i o n o f F a it h .

CHAPTER VII

1 5 6 0

BEZA AT

N£RAC . . . . . . .110

Assembly o f

N o t a b l e s

a t

F o n t a i n e b l e a u—Beza P r e s s e d by

t h e

King

and

Queen

o f

Navarre

t o

Come

—

r e a c h e s

be

f o r e them—Manly A d v i c e—

n f a t u a t i o n

o f Antoine

o f

Bourbon and

h i s

B r o t h e r

—

e r i l o u s

Return

t o

Geneva

—

S a lu t a r y I n f lu e n c e on

Jeanne

d ' A l b r e t—

The Eyes o f

French

P r o t e s t a n t s

S e t

on B e z a .

CHAPTER VIII

1 5 6 1

RECALL

TO FRANCE

Il 8

Changes

s i n c e

Beza

L e f t

France

—

Bloody

L e g i s l a t i o n

and

P r a c t i c e under F r a n c i s I . and

Henry

I I .—

Church

o f

P a r i s I n s t i t ut e d ( 1 5 5 5 ) —

O r g a n i s a t i o n

o f

French

Re

formed Churches ( 1 5 5 9 )—Tumult o f Amboise—Rapid

P r o g r e s s

—C a r d i n a l Odet d e C h a s t i l l o n—Worship i n

Suburbs

o f P a r i s

—P r o t e s t a n t Grandees Absent them

s e l v e s

from t h e C o r o n a t i o n

o f

C h a r l e s I X .—G r e a t P u b l i c

A s s e m b l i e s—P a p a l Nuncio D i s h e a r t e n e d—P r o t e s t a n t s

Promised a Hearing—C a t h a r i n e d e ' M e d i c i D i s s u a d e d by

V e n e t i a n Ambassador—Viewed w i t h S u s p i c i o n—u s t i f i e s

h i m s e l f

—

Why

C a l v i n

i s

n o t

Summoned

—

Theodore

Beza

I n v i t e d i n h i s P l a c e—R e l u c t a n t l y A c c e p t s .

CHAPTER

IX

1 5 6 1

R E C E P T I O N AT COURT

I3 9

D i s c o u r a g i n g News a t h i s

A r r i v a l

i n P a r i s—

Summoned

t o

S a i n t Germain

e n Laye—A t t i t u d e

o f

Grandees— r e a c h e s

b e f o r e t h e P r i n c e s s o f Conde— r e s e n t e d t o t h e Queen-

Mother

—

n t e r v i e w w i t h C a r d i n a l

L o r r a i n e

—

The

C a r d i -



X

Contents

n a l P r o f e s s e s t o

A c q u i e s c e

i n B e z a ' s D o c t r i n e o f t h e

L o r d ' s

Supper

—

a t h a r i n e ' s

D e l i g h t

—

Madame

d e

C u r s o l

S c e p t i c a l— a l v i n n o t S u r p r i s e d a t t h e C a r di n a l ' s D e c e i t—

R e l u c t a n c e o f t h e P r e l a t e s

t o

D i s c u s s

—

The

Queen-

M o t h e r ' s R e s o l u t e n e s s .

CHAPTER X

1 5 6 1

S P E E C H AT THE COLLOQUY OF POISSY . . . 153

P r o t e s t a n t s h i t h e r t o

Denied a Hearing—Beza and t h e

D e l e g a t e s

C a l l e d

t o

P o i s s y

—

G a t h e r i n g

i n

t h e

Nuns'

Re

f e c t o r y ( S e p t e m b e r 9 , 1 5 6 1 )—C h a r l e s

I X .

P r e s i d e s—

T he

C h a n c e l l o r ' s

Speech

—Vain

Attempt o f C a r d i n a l Tournon

t o

P r e v e n t

t h e

Conference

—T he P r o t e s t a n t s I n t r o d u c e d ,

b u t L e f t

S t a n d i n g b e h i n d a

Bar

— e z a ' s Exordium

—H e

P r a y s ,

Using t h e C o n f e s s i o n o f S i n s o f

C a l v i n ' s L i t u r g y

—

Loyal P r o f e s s i o n s—

o i n t s o f Argument—Wherein t h e


and t h e i r

Opponents D i f f e r

—T he

Complete

S a t i s f a c t i o n

o f C h r i s t—D o c t r i n e o f Good Works

—

u f f i

c i e n c y

o f Holy

S c r i p t u r e

—The S a c r a m e n t s—

Both Tran-

s u b s t a n t i a t i o n

and

C o n s u b s t a n t i a t i o n

Repudiated

—

Only

Two

Sacraments Admitted

—S t r u c t u r e o f Church Govern

ment

Confused

beyond R e c o g n i t i o n—

e r o r a t i o n—

Up

r o a r o f t h e P r e l a t e s—" He h a s Blasphemed "—Cardinal

Tournon

a g a i n Appeals t o t h e King

—

His Speech Cut

S h o r t by t h e Queen-Mother.

CHAPTER XI

1 5 6 1 ,

1 5 6 2

FURTHER

DISCUSSIONS

THE

E D IC T OF

JANUARY

MASSACRE OF VAS SY 88

B e z a ' s P l e a f o r P r o t e s t a n t i s m—L e t t e r t o

C a t h a r i n e

d e '

M e d i c i

—Second C o n f e r e n c e—C a r d i n a l

L o r r a i n e ' s Reply

—Change i n t h e Form o f t h e

C o l l o q u y

—C o n f e r e n c e s a t

S a i n t

Germain

—

A b o r t i v e

E f f o r t s

t o

Frame a n A r t i c l e

on

t h e L o r d ' s Supper—

Beza D e t a i n e d i n

France by t h e

Queen-Mother and

Eminent P r o t e s t a n t s

—"Edict o f

J a n u a r y "

P u b l i s h e d

—

The

P r o t e s t a n t s Urged t o

Accept

i t

—

M a s s a c r e

o f

V a s s y

P e r p e t r a t e d

by

t h e

Duke

o f

G u i s e

—



Contents

xi

I t Leads t o C i v i l War—

e z a ' s Remonstrance

—His Words

t o t h e King o f

Navarre—

The

Church

a n

A n v i l t h a t

h a s

Worn

o u t

Many

Hammers.

CHAPTER XII

1 5 6 2 , 1 5 6 3

COUNSELLOR OF CONDE AND THE HUGUENOTS IN

THE FIRST CIVIL

WAR

. . . . ' 2IO

Geneva Extends h i s Leave o f Absence—His P o p u l a r

P r e a c h i n g—

a r i e d D u t i e s

—Reply t o Jeanne d ' A l b r e t—

P r e p a r e s a

M a n i f e s t o

f o r t h e P r i n c e—R e v i s i t s Geneva

—

Again P e r m i t t e d t o Return t o France

—

r e s e n t a t t h e

B a t t l e

o f Dreux—F a l s e l y Charged w i t h C o m p l i c i t y i n t h e

Crime

o f

P o l t r o t—

r i c e

S e t on h i s

Head

by t h e Regent

o f

t h e

Low C o u n t r i e s .

CHAPTER XIII

1 5 6 3 - 1 5 6 5

BEZA S U C C E E D S

CALVIN

—DITS GREEK

NEW

T E S T A

MENT

28

Welcomed by t h e C o u n c i l o f Geneva and by C a l v i n—

Calumny

o f

C l a u d e d e S a i n c t e s—Moderator

o f

t h e Vener

a b l e Company—C a l v i n ' s Death (May 2 7 , 1 5 6 4 )— e z a ' s

E d i t i o n

o f t h e Greek New

Testament

—" Codex B e z s e . "

CHAPTER

XIV

1 5 6 6 - 1 5 7 4

BROAD SYMPATHY—YNOD

OF

LA

ROCHELLE—

AS

SA C R E

OF

S T .

BARTHOLOMEW'S

DAY

.

.

239

New R e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s—Wide Sympathy—S t a t e o f Europe

—

a t i o n a l

Synod o f La

R o c h e l l e

( 1 5 7 1 )

—

I l l u s t r i o u s

Members

—

T h e i r Adhesion t o t h e C o n f e s s i o n o f F a i t h—

Beza

E l e c t e d

Moderator

—

M a s s a c r e o f

S t . Bartholomew's

D ay ( A u g u s t

2 4 ,

1 5 7 2 )—F u g i t i v e s Reach Geneva

—

e z a ' s

Sermon a t t h e P u b l i c F a s t—Welcomes Refugee P a s t o r s—

His Advice P r i z e d by Conde, Henry I V . , and t h e French

Churches

—By t h e

B r i t i s h P r o t e s t a n t s

—Queen E l i z a b e t h ' s

A v e r s i o n ,

t o

Geneva,—Yi^ws

o f

B i s h o p s

J e w e J

a j i d

G r i n d a l



xii

Contents

—The

D i s p u t e a b o u t

Vestments

—

A t t i t u d e o f

Z u r i c h

T h e o l o g i a n s—B e z a ' s

R e p l i e s

t o t h e B i s h o p s—

Admiration

f o r

C a r t w r i g h t

—

Sympathy

f o r

t h e

P r e s b y t e r i a n

Move

m e n t .

CHAPTER XV

CONTROVERSIES AND CONTROVERSIAL W RITINGS . 268

C o n f e s s i o n of t h e

C h r i s t i a n

F a i t h—Summary

of

t h e

Whole of

C h r i s t i a n i t y—Book of

C h r i s t i a n Q ue s t i o n s

and Answers—D i s c u s s i o n o f P r e d e s t i n a t i o n — Westphal

and Hesshus— a s t a l i o and Ochino—Polygamy and Di

v o r c e—

T he D i s c u s s i o n

r e g a r d i n g t h e L o r d ' s Supper—

Claude de

S a i n c t e s

—

A t t i t u d e

toward Lutheranism

—

A n d r e a e .

CHAPTER XVI

BEZA AND

THE HUGUENOT P S A L T E R . . . 287

Not Author o f t h e Huguenot L i t u r g y—But J o i n t Author

o f t h e French Psalms— Clement Marot—M a r o t ' s F i r s t

Psalter—

His

C o l l e c t i o n

o f F i f t y P s a l m s ( 1 5 4 3 )—

The

Ad

d r e s s

"to

t h e L a d i e s

o f France"

—Marot i n Geneva—

D i e s

a t Turin—

B e z a ' s

F i r s t

T h i r t y - t h r e e

P s a l m s

( 1

5 5 1 )—

The

E p i s t l e

"to

t h e

L i t t l e

Flock"

—

r o s c r i p t i o n

o f

P r o t e s t a n t Books—Completion o f t h e P s a l t e r ( 1 5 6 2 )—

Momentary P o p u l a r i t y o f t h e P s a l m s a t

C o u r t

—

P s a l m -

S i n g i n g on

t h e Promenades

—

o p y r i g h t S e c u r e d—M u l t i

p l i c a t i o n o f E d i t i o n s—

Gain

t o P r o t e s t a n t i s m—

B e z a ' s

L a t e r Hymns.

CHAPTER XVII

CONTRIBUTIONS TO

HISTORY

07

C h i e f l y a Teacher and a Ma n o f A c t i o n— r i t e s a L i f e

o f

C a l v i n

—

A

V i n d i c a t i o n

and

a

Eulogy

—

The

E c c l e s i

a s t i c a l H i s t o r y—An I n v a l u a b l e

C o m p i l a t i o n

—Errone

o u s l y

A s c r i b e d t o Beza—His / c o n e s—A P i c t u r e G a l l e r y

o f Worthies— r e a t i s e on t h e French P r o n u n c i a t i o n .

CHAPTER XVIII

1 5 9 0 - 1 5 9 3

THE PATRIOTIC PREACHER HENRY I V . * S

APOSTASY. 315

Geneva Threatened —T he

Duke

o f Savoy a

P e r s i s t e n t

Enfemy

—

S u f f e r i n g s

o f

t h e

C i t i z e n s

—

E l o q u e n t

Appeals

t Q



Contents

X l l l

P A G E

t h e i r

Devotion

and

P i e t y

—Remonstrances w i t h Henry

I V . on h i s A b j u r a t i o n—F r a n k n e s s toward t h e K i n g .

CHAPTER

XIX

beza's later years in geneva 25

Worldly

C i r c u m s t a n c e s

—Annulment o f Decree o f t h e

P a r l i a m e n t

o f P a r i s— n t e r c o u r s e w i t h h i s Family—His

F a t h e r ' s L a s t Wishes—

An A c t i v e

Ol d Age—The F i r s t

C i t i z e n

o f Geneva—Second M a r r i a g e—E f f o r t s t o C o n v e r t

him t o Roman

C a t h o l i c i s m

—F r a n c i s o f S a l e s—

Dragon-

n a d e s o f t h e Duke o f Savoy—S a l e s Encouraged by a

P a p a l

B r i e f

—

F i r s t

I n t e r v i e w w i t h

Beza

—

An

Attempt

t o

B r i b e

t h e Reformer—B e z a ' s Reply—R e p o r t s o f h i s Con

v e r s i o n— e r s e s on a Homely Theme—P o r t r a i t Drawn by

a V i s i t o r—Honourable L e t t e r o f Henry I V .—

T he

King

R e c e i v e s Beza and G r a n t s h i s R e q u e s t—The "

Escalade"

( 1 6 0 2 ) —

Beza

Renders

P u b l i c

Thanks f o r t h e C i t y ' s

D e l i v e r a n c e .

CHAPTER XX

1 6 0 5

CLOSING

DAYS

349

B e z a ' s L a s t I l l n e s s—His Death ( O c t o b e r 1 3 , 1 6 0 5 )—

U n i v e r s a l

S o r r o w .

APPENDIX

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL

LETTER TO WOI.MAR

.

.

355

T R AN SC RI P T OF l i E Z A ' S LETTER TO PITHOU, WITH

TRANSLATION 68

IN D EX

371





ILLUSTRATIONS

Theodore beza

rontispiece

CHURCH

OF

S T .

MARY

MAGDALENE,

AT

VEZELAY

.

2

MELIOR

(MELCHIOR) WOLMAR

. . . . 8

From B e z a ' s " I c o n e s . "

THEODORE BEZA

AT THE AGE

OF 29 .

.

28

From f i r s t e d i t i o n

o f

B e z a ' s " Poemata."

t

P IE RRE VIRE T

2

LAUSANNE

02

ANTOINE DE

BOURBON,

KING

OF

NAVARRE .

. IIO

JEANNE D 'ALBR E T , QUEEN OF NAVARRE

. 1

14

COLIGNY 122

From a n o l d e n g r a v i n g i n t h e P r i n t - R o o m ,

B r i t i s h

Museum.

O D E T ,

CARDINAL OF C HA S TILLON . . . 124

FRANCOIS

DE

CHASTILLON, LORD OF ANDELOT .

1

30

THE

COLLOQUY OF

POISSY, SEPT. 9 , 1561 . . 134

Reduced

copy o f t h e contemporary e n g r a v i n g o f

J .

T o r t o r e l

and J . P e r r i s s i n .

CHARLES I X . 158

From an e n g r a v i n g i n t h e Print-Room, B r i t i s h Museum.

P E T E R

MARTYR

VERMIGLI

196

LQUIS

OF

BOURBON, P RINCE OF CONDE . , . 198



xv i

Illustrations

P A G E

THE

MASSACRE

OF VASSY,

MARCH I ,

1562

.

204

Reduced

copy o f

t h e

contemporary

e n g r a v i n g

o f

J .

T o r t o r e l

and

J .

P e r r i s s i n .

FRANCOIS, DUC DE GUISE

226

From

a

p r i n t by T h e r e t .

From

a n e n g r a v i n g

i n

t h e

P r i n t - R o o m , B r i t i s h Museum.

ANCIENT PORTAL

OF

CHURCH OF SAINT PIERRE,

GENEVA,

TORN

DOWN

IN MIDDLE

OF

THE

1 8 T H CENTURY 44

Redrawn

f r e m

S c h a u b ' s

"

S u i s s e

H i s t o r i q u e

e t

P i t t o r e s q u e . "

FACSIMILE LETTER OF

BEZA

TO PITHOU, 1 56 6 . 250

Reduced from o r i g i n a l i n t h e c o l l e c t i o n o f

F . J . D r e e r , P h i l a d e l p h i a .

A

FRENCH NATIONAL

SYNOD

IN

THE I 7 T H

CENTURY

266

From a n e n g r a v i n g by

G .

S c h o u t e n i n Aymon's " Tous

l e s S y n o d e s . " The Hague,

1 7 1 0 .

CLEMENT

MAROT

88

From

a p a i n t i n g by C a r l o n e .

CATHERINE D E MED1CIS

02

From

a n Engraving i n t h e P r i n t - R o o m , B r i t i s h

Museum.

FRANCIS OF

SALES

34

NOTICE

OF BEZA'S

DEATH AND INVITATION TO

THE FUNERAL 50

Reduced from o n l y

known copy

i n

l i b r a r y o f

t h e French

P r o t e s t a n t

H i s t o r i c a l S o c i e t y ,

a t P a r i s .



BIBLIOGRAPHY

THE CHIEF WORKS QUOTED IN THE PRESENT

WORK

I . The

Sources

and MS. C o l l e c t i o n s and Reprints of

t h e Sources.

Aymon, J e a n , Tous

l e s

S y n o d e s

Nationaux

d e s E g l i s e s

R e ' f o r m e ' e s

d e F r a n c e .

The Hague,

1 7 1 0 . 2

v o l s .

C o n t a i n s

t h e

m i n u t e s

o f

t h e t w e n t y - n i n e French P r o t e s t a n t N a t i o n a l

S y n o d s ,

1 5 5 9 - 1 6 5 9 .

P r e f i x e d t o t h e f i r s t volume

( p a g e s

1 - 2 8 3 ) a r e f i f t y

l e t t e r s w r i t t e n

,

from

France by t h e

p a p a l

n u n c i o

C a r d i n a l

P r o s p e r o d i S a n t a Croce

t o

C a r d i n a l

Borromeo,

g i v i n g

a n

a c c o u n t

o f

t h e y e a r s

1 5 6 1 - 1 5 6 5 ,

i n c l u d i n g t h e C o l l o q u y o f P o i s s y .

Baum, C o l l .

MSS.,

a s

r e f e r r e d

t o

i n t h e

f o o t n o t e s

o f t h i s v o l u m e ,

d e s i g n a t e s a c o l l e c t i o n o f many hundred c o p i e s o f B e z a ' s l e t t e r s

f o u n d i n t h e

l i b r a r i e s

o f G e n e v a , Z u r i c h , e t c . , i n t e n d e d f o r u s e

i n a c o n t i n u a t i o n o f h i s g r e a t b i o g r a p h y

mentioned

b e l o w . T h i s

m a n u s c r i p t c o l l e c t i o n i s now i n t h e B i b l i o t h e q u e du P r o t e s t a n t i s m e

F r a n c a i s , i n P a r i s .

B e n o i s t ,

E l i e , H i s t o i r e d e I

Edit

d e N a n t e s . D e l f t , 1 6 9 3 - 9 5 . 3

p a r t s

i n

5

v o l s .

B e z a ,

Theodore,

/ c o n e s ,

i d

e s t ,

V e r c e

I m a g i n e s

Virorum

d o c t r i n a

simul e l

f i i e t a t e

i l l u s t r i u m , e t c . f o r f u l l t i t l e and d e s c r i p t i o n s e e

p a g e 3 1 2 ) . G e n e v a , 1 5 8 0 .

B e z a , Theodore, T r a c l a t i o n e s T h e o l o g i e c e . G e n e v a , 1 5 8 2 . 3 v o l s . ,

f o l . T he R e f o r m e r ' s c o ll e c t e d t h e o l o g ic a l w o r k s .

B o n n e t ,

J u l e s ,

L e t t e r s of John

C a l v i n c o m p i l e d from t h e

o r i g i n a l

m a n u s c r i p t s and e d i t e d w i t h h i s t o r i c a l n o t e s . T r a n s l a t e d from t h e

o r i g i n a l L a t i n and F r e n c h . Edinburgh and P h i l a d e l p h i a , s . a . 4 v o l s .

By

t h e

same e d i t o r , L e t t r e s

F r a n c a i s e s d e

Jean

C a l v i n , P a r i s ,

1 8 5 4 .

2

v o l s ,

x v j j



xviii Bibliography

B u l l e t i n

h i s t o r i q u e e t

l i t t e ' r a i r e

t i e

l a Sod He

d e

V H i s t o i r e du P r o -

t e s l a n t i s m e F r a n f a i s . P a r i s , 1 8 5 3 ,

f o i l .

T h i s

m o n t h l y ,

now

( 1 8 9 9 )

i n

i t s

f o r t y - e i g h t h

y e a r ,

c o n t a i n s

a

v a s t

number

o f

o r i g i n a l

docu

ments h e r e t o f o r e

u n p u b l i s h e d , a s

w e l l

a s

monographs, e t c . ,

and i s

i n d i s p e n s a b l e

a s

one o f t h e c h i e f s o u r c e s f o r t h e h i s t o r y

o f

t h e

French Reformation and o f t h e Huguenots.

C a l e n d a r of

S t a t e Papers

( F o r e i g n

S e r i e s ) p r e s e r v e d

i n t h e S t a t e

Paper Department

o f H.

M.

P u b l i c Record O f f i c e . R e i g n s o f

Edward V I . ,

Mary,

E l i z a b e t h .

E d i t e d s u c c e s s i v e l y by T u r n b u l l ,

T y t l e r , and

S t e v e n s o n . London, 1 8 6 1 , f o i l .

C a lv i n i O p e r a . E d i t e d

by

t h e

S t r a s s b u r g

p r o f e s s o r s , Baum,

C u n i t z ,

R e u s s ,

B r u n s w i c k ,

1 8 6 3 ,

f o i l .

More

t h a n

f i f t y

volumes

o f

t h i s a c c u r a t e and

comprehensive

work have a p p e a r e d . T he l e t t e r s

t o

C a l v i n

and

o t h e r i l l u s t r a t i v e m a t t e r a r e

s c a r c e l y

l e s s

i m p o r t a n t

f o r

h i s t o r y t h a n t h e R e f o r m e r ' s own l e t t e r s .

C o n d e ,

M e " m o i r e s

d e . London, 1 7 4 3 . 6 v o l s . , 4 t o . A

r e p r o d u c t i o n

o f

r a r e t r a c t s , e t c . ,

o f t h e s i x t e e n t h

c e n t u r y , t o g e t h e r w i t h

some

h i t h e r t o

u n e d i t e d p a p e r s , a l m o s t a l l

o f

g r e a t i n t e r e s t and permanent

v a l u e .

C r e s p i n ,

Jean

( L a t i n i s e d C r i s p i n u s ) , A c t i o n e s e t Monimenta Mar-

t y r u m . Geneva, 1 5 6 0 . For f u l l t i t l e s

o f

t h e e a r l y French and

L a t i n e d i t i o n s , s e e page 3 6 . An a c c u r a t e r e p u b l i c a t i o n o f t h e l a t e r

e d i t i o n s

i n

t h e

French

l a n g u a g e ,

was

p u b l i s h e d

w i t h

n o t e s

o f

L e l i e v r e .

3 v o l s . T o u l o u s e , 1 8 8 9 .

D e

Thou, J a c q u e s

Auguste

( L a t i n i s e d T h u a n u s ) , H i s t o r i a r u n i s u i

T e m p o r i s L i b r i 1 3 8 . P u b l i s h e d i n French a s

w e l l

a s i n L a t i n i n

many s h a p e s and d i f f e r e n t number o f v o l u m e s . The French e d .

w i t h t h e

i m p r i n t

o f T he Hague, 1 7 4 6 , i n 1 1 v o l s . , h a s been

u s e d .

Haton, C l a u d e , M e ' m o i r e s . E d i t e d by F e l i x B o u r q u e l o t . 2

v o l s .

P a r i s , 1 8 5 7 .

The work

f o r m s p a r t o f t h e m a g n i f i c e n t " C o l l e c t i o n

d e

Documents

I n e d i t s

s u r l ' H i s t o i r e

d e F

r a n e e , " p u b l i s h e d

under

t h e a u s p i c e s

o f

t h e

M i n i s t r y

o f

P u b l i c

I n s t r u c t i o n

a t

t h e

s u g g e s t i o n

o f

G u i z o t .

Haton was a p r i e s t , o f

M e r i o t ,

n e a r P r o v i n s . His

memoirs c o v e r

t he y e a r s 1 5 5 3 - 8 2 .

H e r m i n j a r d ,

A . L . , C o r r e s p o n d a n c e d e s R e " f o r m a t e u r s d a n s l e s

Pays

d e Langue F r a n c a i s e . Genev a and P a r i s , 1 8 6 6 , f o i l . 9 v o l s , h a v e

a p p e a r e d up t o 1 8 9 7 , r e a c h i n g o n l y t o

1 5 4 4 .

H i s t o i r e E c c U s i a s t i q u e d e s E g l i s e s A Y / o r m e ' e s au Royaume d e F r a n c e .

E d i t i o n

n o u v e l l e

a v e c Commentaire, e t c . E d i t e d by Baum and

C u n i t z . 3 v o l s . P a r i s , 1 8 S 3 - 8 9 . B e s t e d i t i o n

o f

t h i s g r e a t

h i s t o r y

w h i c h , was f i r s t

p u b l i s h e d

a t Antwerp i n 1 5 8 0 , S e e

page

5 1 0 ,



Bibliography

xix

J a c o b , P a u l L . , C E u v r e s

F r a n c o i s e s d e

C a l v i n , r e c u e i l l i e s pour l a

p r e m i e r e

f o i s ,

p r e c e d e e s

d e

s a

v i e ,

p a r

Theodore

d e

B e z e .

P a r i s ,

1 8 4 2 .

L a n g u e t , H u b e r t , E p i s t o l a

S e c r e t c e . H a l l e ,

1 6 9 9 . C o l l e c t i o n

o f d e s p a t c h e s o f a s h r e w d , h o n o u r a b l e , and w e l l i n f o r m e d s t a t e s m a n .

La

P l a c e , P i e r r e

d e ,

C o m m e n t a i r e s d e

I ' E s t a t

d e

l a R e l i g i o n e l R e -

p u b l i q u e

s o u s

l e s r o i s Henry e t F r a n c o i s

s e c o n d s

e l C h a r l e s n e u f v i e s m e .

P a r i s , 1 8 6 5 . R e p r i n t e d i n t h e " Pantheon L i t t e ' r a i r e , " e d . by J .

A .

C .

Buchon.

P a r i s , 1 8 3 6 . The a u t h o r , a n eminent j u d g e , was

murdered a t t h e M a s s a c r e o f S t . Bartholomew's

Day.

L a y a r d ,

S i r Henry, D e s p a t c h e s

of

M i c h e l e Suriano

and

Marc

'An

t o n i o B a r b a r a , V e n e t i a n Ambassadors a t t h e C o u r t of F r a n c e , 1560-

1 5 6 3 .

( P u b l i c a t i o n s

o f

t h e

Hug.

S o c .

o f

London)

Lymington,

1 8 9 1 .

Le C h r o n i q u e u r . An h i s t o r i c a l c o l l e c t i o n under t h i s name p u b -

l i s h e d f o r t n i g h t l y a t Lausanne

i n

1 8 3 5 and 1 8 3 6 , by L . V u l l i e m i n .

C o n t a i n s a d e t a i l e d n a r r a t i v e and t o a g r e a t e x t e n t t h e documentary

h i s t o r y o f t h e

c o r r e s p o n d i n g

y e a r s t hr e e c e n t u r ie s b a c k .

Le L i v r e

du

R e c t e u r . C a t a l o g u e

o f

t h e S t u d e n t s o f t h e Academic

o f

Geneva from

1 5 5 9 - 1 8 5 9 .

E d i t e d by C . Le

F o r t ,

G . R e v i l l o t , and

E . F i c k .

G e n e v a ,

i 8 6 0 .

P a s q u i e r ,

E t i e n n e ,

L e s

R e c h e r c h e s

d e l a F r a n c e . P a r i s , 1 6 2 1 .

Rjemond, Florimond

d e ,

H i s t o r i a

d e

O r t u ,

P r o g r e s s u ,

e t

Ruina

Hareseon h u i u s s a c u l i . C o l o g n e , 1 6 1 4 . The a u t h o r , a c o u n s e l l o r

o f t h e P a r l i a m e n t o f T o u l o u s e , ha d from a P r o t e s t a n t become a

Roman C a t h o l i c , and h i s book b e t r a y s h i s s t r o n g Roman C a t h o l i c

b i a s .

I t i s l i v e l y and i n t e r e s t i n g and i s f u l l o f s t r i k i n g f a c t s .

R e c u e i l d e s c h o se s m e " m o r a b l e s f a i t e s e t p a s s e ' e s pour

l e

f a i c t d e l a

R e l i g i o n e t E s t a t

d e

c e Royaume, d e p u i s l a mort du Roy Henry I I .

j u s q u e s au commencement d e s

t r o u b l e s .

S . 1 . 1 5 6 5 . S u b s e q u e n t l y

i n c o r p o r a t e d i n t h e f i r s t

volume

o f t h e M e " m o i r e s d e C o n d e " .

S e r r e s ,

Jean

d e

( S e r r a n u s ) ,

Commentarii

d e S t a t u

R e l i g i o n i s

e t

R e i p u h l i c c e

i n

r e g n o

G a l l i a .

I n

f i v e p a r t s o r v o l u m e s ,

p u b l i s h e d i n

1 5 7 1 - 8 0 ,

t h e f i r s t f o u r s i n e l o c o , t h e l a s t a t

Leyden. One

o f t h e

most f a i t h f u l

and

v a l u a b l e o f t h e h i s t o r i e s

o f

t h e French


from t h e p e r s e c u t i o n a t P a r i s i n

1 5 5 7

t o t h e

p u b l i c a t i o n

o f t h e

E d i c t

o f

1 5 7 6 .

T he

l a s t

volume i s

e x c e e d i n g l y s c a r c e .

Z u r i c h

L e t t e r s .

C o r r e s p o n d e n c e

of s e v e r a l

E n g l i s h B i s h o p s

w i t h

s o m e

of

t h e H e l v e t i a n Reformers during t h e r e i g n of Queen E l i z a

b e t h .

P u b l i s h e d by t h e P a r k e r

S o c i e t y .

Cambridge, 1 8 4 6 .



xx

Bibliography

I I . Biographies of Beza and Other Works Drawn from

t h e

Sources.

Baum,

Johann

Wilhelm,

T h e o d o r

Beza

n a c h

h a n d s c h r i f t l i c h e n

Q u e l l e n d a r g e s t e l l t . L e i p z i g , v o l . i . , 1 8 4 3 , v o l . i i . , i n two p a r t s ,

1 8 5 1 ,

1 8 5 2 . T he most

t h o r o u g h

and

s c h o l a r l y l i f e

o f

B e z a ,

b u t

coming

down

o n l y t o 1 5 6 3 .

The

a p p e n d i c e s i n t h i s work c o n t a i n

many

d o c u m e n t s , e s p e c i a l l y l e t t e r s

o f

Beza p r i n t e d from c o p i e s . m a d e

by P r o f . Baum i n v a r i o u s l i b r a r i e s o n t h e C o n t i n e n t . These a r e

g e n e r a l l y r e f e r r e d t o i n t h e n o t e s a s "

Baum

Doc."

B e n r a t h , K a r l , Bernardino O c h i n o of

S i e n a . T r a n s l a t e d

from

t h e

German

by H.

Zimmern.

New

York,

1 8 7 7 .

Douen, O . , C l e ' m e n t Marot e t l e P s a u t i e r Huguenot. P a r i s , 1 8 7 8 ,

1 8 7 9 . 2

v o l s .

A work o f wide r e s e a r c h p u b l i s h e d i n p a r t a t t h e

e x p e n s e o f t h e French government, and p r i n t e d by t h e n a ti o n a l

p r i n t i n g o f f i c e . A p o r t i o n o f t h e s e c o n d volume i s d e v o t e d t o t h e

m e l o d i e s o f t h e

P s a l m s .

The a u t h o r ' s b i a s i s i n

f a v o u r

o f

M a r o t ,

whom

h e

r e g a r d s

a s a

f i n e r

t y p e

o f t h e r e f o r m a t o r y

movement t h a n

B e z a .

G a b e r e l , J . , H i s t o i r e

d e

V E g l i s e d e G e n e v e d e p u i s l e Commence

ment

d e

l a

R e ' f o r m e

j u s i / u

' e n

1 S 1 J .

Geneva,

1 8 5 5 - 6 3 ,

3

v o l s .

Haag, Eugene and E m i l e , La France P r o t e s t a n t e .

An

e x c e e d

i n g l y v a l u a b l e b i o g r a p h i c a l w o r k . The f i r s t e d i t i o n , P a r i s , 1 8 5 6 ,

f o i l . ,

1 0 v o l s . , i s o u t o f p r i n t . The

s e c o n d ,

e d i t e d by Henri B o r d i e r ,

P a r i s , 1 8 7 7 ,

f o i l . ,

p r o j e c t e d o n a much more

e x t e n d e d

p l a n , h a s been

t e m p o r a r i l y i n t e r r u p t e d a t t h e c l o s e o f t h e s i x t h v ol ume by Mr.

B o r d i e r ' s

d e a t h .

Heppe, H e i n r i c h , T h e o d o r B e z a , L e b e n und a u s g e w d h l t e S c h r i f t e n .

E l b e r f e l t , 1 8 6 1 . T he a u t h o r , a p r o f e s s o r a t

Marburg, c o n t r i b u t e d

t h i s volume t o t h e s e r i e s ( " Leben und a u s g . S c h r i f t e n derVaterund

B e g r i l n d e r

d .

r e f o r m i r t e n

K i r c h e

)

e d i t e d

by

T I a g e n b a c h .

L e s s

f u l l

and

d e t a i l e d

t h a n

Baum's b i o g r a p h y ,

i t p o s s e s s e s t h e g re a t a d

v a n t a g e o f c o v e r i n g t h e

e n t i r e l i f e

o f B e z a .

S a y o u s , A . , E t u d e s LiMraires s u r l e s P \ c r i v a i n s F r a n c o i s d e l a

R e f o r m a t i o n . P a r i s , 1 8 4 1 . 2 v o l s . D i s c r i m i n a t i n g and s c h o l a r l y

s k e t c h e s . T he s k e t c h o f Beza i n t h e f i r s t volume c o v e r s more t h a n

a

hundred p a g e s .

S c h l o s s e r , F .

C . , L e b e n d e s

T h e o d o r d e Beza

und d e s P e t e r Martyr

V e r m i l i . H e i d e l b e r g , 1 8 0 9 . The

l i f e

o f Beza i s ' w r i t t e n

f a i r l y

b u t

u n e v e n l y

and

w i L h

o c c a s i o n a l i n a c c ur a c y .



Bibliography

xxi

W e i s s , N . , La Chambre A r d e n t e . P a r i s , 1 8 8 9 . A s t u d y o n r e

l i g i o u s

p e r s e c u t i o n

under

F r a n c i s

I .

and

Henry

I I . ,

c o n t a i n i n g

a b o u t

f i v e hundred r e c e n t l y

d i s c o v e r e d s e n t e n c e s

r e n d e r e d by t h e P a r l i a

ment

o f P a r i s .

Many o t h e r

works l e s s f r e q u e n t l y u s e d a r e o m i t t e d from t h i s

l i s t .

T o t h e above ma y be added t h e f o l l o w i n g

t h r e e

Huguenot h i s t o r

i e s w r i t t e n

by

t h e a u t h o r ,

t o which

f r e q u e n t r e f e r e n c e

i s

made

and

i n

which a d d i t i o n a l

a u t h o r i t i e s

a r e g i v e n .

H i s t o r y

o f

t h e R i s e of t h e

Huguenots of F r a n c e . New

York, 1 8 7 9 ,

London,

1 8 8 0 .

2

v o l s .

C o v e r s

t h e

p e r i o d

from

1 5 1 2

t o

1 5 7 4 ,

i n

c l u d i n g t h e M a s s a c r e

o f

S t . Bartholomew's

Day.

The Huguenots and

Henry of N a v a r r e .

New York and London,

1 8 8 6 . 2

v o l s . C o v e r s t h e

p e r i o d

from

1 5 7 4 t o

1 6 1 0 , o r t o t h e d e a t h

o f Henry

I V . , i n c l u d i n g

t h e

Wars o f

t h e

L e a g u e ,

t h e

A b j u r a t i o n

o f

Henry I V . , and t h e Enactment o f t h e E d i c t o f t h e N a n t e s .

The Huguenots and t h e R e v o c a t i o n of t h e E d i c t of N a n t e s . New

York and London,

1 8 9 5 .

2 . v o l s .

C o v e r s

t h e p e r i o d

from 1 6 1 0

t o

1 8 0 2 , t e r m i n a t i n g

w i t h

t h e f u l l r e c o g n i t i o n o f

P r o t e s t a n t i s m by

Napoleon

B o n a p a r t e .



Y



THEODOREBEZA

CHAPTERI

CHILDHOOD AND

YOUTH

1519-1539

THE

leaders

of

the

great Reformation differed

I from one another as distinctly in personal t r a i t s

as in

the

incidents of their lives and the work which

they

were

called to perform. Theodore Beza, whose

career and influence I purpose to trace,

did not

p os

sess

precisely

the same

remarkable natural

endow

ments that fitted Martin Luther and John

Cal vin

for

the

accomplishment of their

brilliant

under

takings, but in a different sphere his task was of

scarcely

inferior

importance,

and was

accomplished

equally

well.

Like

Melanchthon, he belonged to

another and not less essential class of men whose

great office i t

i s

to consolidate

and

render

permanent

what

ha s been begun and carried forward to

a

certain

point of development by others. But between Beza

and Melanchthon there was

a

marked contrast of

allotted activity. Melanchthon

was

born fourteen

1



2

Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i g -

years later than Luther, and survived him by

the

same number of

years.

He was,

therefore, a

younger

contemporary

of

the

great

German

Reformer,

and his

o f f i c e was

preeminently

that

of

supplementing what

seemed naturally lacking i n

the

master whom he

loved and revered, moderating that master's inordin

ate

f i r e , by

his

prudence restraining the older

Re

former's intemperate zeal, by

his superior

learning

and scholarship

q ua lif ying hi ms el f to

become

in

a

peculiarly

appropriate

s ens e the teacher

of

the

doc

trines which

Luther

had propounded. Beza

was

s t i l l nearer to

Cal vin

in point of birth, for only

the

s p a c e of

ten yea rs s ep a ra ted

them. But

he

outlived

Cal vin more than four times that number of years,

and ended his l i f e at over fourscore, and early in

another century. Thus

while

Melanchthon i s natur

ally to be regarded as a companion of Luther, Beza

presents

himself

to

view

chiefly

as

a

theological

successor of

Calvin,

in

whose doctrinal

system

he

introduced l i t t l e

change and

which he

merely

accent

uated, and as

an

independent leader

of the French

Reformed Churches during over a

third

of

a century.

More,

perha ps ,

than any of

the other

prominent

leaders of

the

great religious movement of his time

Beza

i s

entitled to

be

styled

the

courtly

Reformer.

"

Sprung from the ranks

of

the

ol d

French nobility,

a

man for whom access to

the

favoured circle of the

powerful and opulent was open from earliest youth,

with

wealthy connections, nurtured

i n ease

and

i n

the

prospect of preferment,

into whatever

de part

ment of Church or State he might elect to enter, he

manifested in his bearing, his manners, and even i n



CHURCH

OF

S A I N T

MARY

MAGDALENE, AT

V E Z E L A Y .





1 5 3 9 ]

Childhood

and Youth

3

his language

the

effects of a ss oc ia tion upon equal

terms

with

the

best

and

most

highly

educated

men

of his time. This was a n advantage

that

widened

the sphere

of his

influence, both

at

the

court of

Charles IX. and at that of Henry IV.

The members of

the f am il y

from which he s pr an g

wrote

their

name De Besze. Theodore himself so

wrote i t to

the

end of his days, s a v e when he gave

i t

the

Latin

form

of Beza.

The family was

of ol d

Burgundian

stock.

Theodore's

birthplace was

the

town

of Vezelay, now a decayed

and insignificant

p l a ce

of somewhat less than

twelve

hundred souls.

Situated about one hundred and f i f t y miles south

east of the capital

of France, i t

continues in

i t s ob

s curity to carry on a limited t r a f f i c in

wood,

grain,

and wine,

the

wood being obtained in

t he e xt en si v e

forest

of

Avallon

and

being

sent down

the

river

Yonne, to s u p p l y

in

part

the

needs of

Paris

and i t s

environs. Even i n

the

sixteenth century, Vezelay

lived

chiefly on

memories of

i t s

p a st

distinction. In

attestation

of

former greatness, i t pointed

with pride

to a

famous abbey church dedicated

to

Saint Mary

Magdalene. The ruins

s t i l l crown a

h i l l

overlooking

the town,

and

even

now arouse the

curiosity and

e l i c i t

the

admiration

of

su ch

visitors

a s ,

from

time

to time, turn aside

from the

beaten ways of travel to

more secluded paths.

Hard-by

i s s t i l l pointed

out

the spot where, on

Palm

Sunday, in the

year 1 146,

the

Second

Crusade

was preached

by

Bernard,

the

celebrated Abbot of

Clairvaux. The

slope of

a h i l l

at

the

gate of the p l a ce

was

occupied

on

that famous

occasion

by

a

throng

of

lords

and

knights,

of

eccle



4

Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

s i a s t i c s and persons of

every station,

too numerous

to

be

contained

by

any

building,

a l l

of

whom were

attracted to Vezelay by the fame of the eloquence

and

piety

of

the

future

saint. Upon the great plat

form

erected

at

the ba se

of

the

h i l l sat Louis

VII.,

King of

France,

and

near him the

orator

who divided

with his

Majesty the

attention

of the vast

concourse

of s p ec ta tors . Here

i t

was

that, at the

close

of

Bernard's

fervid

a p p e a l for Palestine,

just

bereft

of

the

flower

of

i t s

possessions

by

the

f a l l

of

the

city

of

E de s s a ,

not onl y the lords almost

to a man,

but

Louis VII. himself and his

wife

Eleanor of Guy-

enne, begged the

p rivil ege of

a tta ching the

symbol

of

the

holy c ros s to their

garments

and of joining

the

crusade

soon

to

set forth

to

rescue

from the

pollut

ing foot

of

the infidel the

land once

made

holy

by

the

tread

of

the

Son

of

God.1

Nearly four centuries

had elapsed from the

day

on

which Vezelay

resounded

with

the

cries of

Deus

vult Deus

vult

"

interrupting

Bernard's address,

when, in

15

1 9 ,

on Saint

John Baptist's Day,

the

14th

of

June, Old

Style,

or

the 24th,

New

Style,

was born

the

future French

Reformer. He

was a

son

of Pierre

de Beze,. the b a i l l i

of

the place.

Vezelay,

having

lost

i t s

importance

in

other

respects,

s t i l l

retained

the

honour of

being the

seat of a royal officer bear

ing this designation.

The

position

was

as honour

able

as

i t was influential. Pierre

de Beze

had

married

Marie

Bourdelot,

also of

noble

descent, by

whom

he

had had six

children

before

the birth

of

Theodore—

1 Michaud,

H i s t o i r e

d e s C r o i s a d e s , i i . , 1 2 5 s e q . ; M i l l s , H i s t o r y of

t h e

C r u s a d e s ,

1 2 0 .



1 5 3 9 ] Childhood and Youth 5

two

sons and four daughters.

Her

kinsmen,

a s wel l

as

h i s ,

were

persons

of

prominence.

Nicholas

de

Beze, brother

of

Pierre, was a

c ouns el lor or judge

of the

Parliament

of Paris, the highest judicial body

in France.

Being

wealthy, unmarried,

and of

an

affectionate

disposition, Nicholas would

gladly

have

had a l l the children of P ierre

brought

to his house

i n the capital, there to be reared under the most

favourable circumstances ; nor would

he

have sp ared

either trouble or expense. Theodore subsequently

styled him the Maecenas of the family. Another

brother,

having

entered the

Church, possessed, as

Abbot of

Froidmont, the

means

of

rendering

him

s e l f no

less

serviceable

to

the promotion of the in

terests

of

his nephews.

E vi dent ly i f Theodore

should f a i l of

promotion

either in Church or in the

judicial

career,

i t

would

not

be

from

the

lack

of

strong

family connections.

' There must, i t would

seem,

have been something

particularly winning in Theodore,

the

youngest child

i n a family of seven children ; for

he

had

not

emerged

from infancy when his uncle, the member of the

Parliament of Paris, being on a v i s i t

to

the b a i l l i of

Vezelay, conceived so

strong

an admiration and

affection for

the

child that he begged to be allowed

to take him back with him to the capital. The

father consented. The mother at f i r s t demurred,

but

a f terwa rd s y iel d ed reluctantly in deference to

her husband's command. She insisted, however,

on accompanying her l i t t l e s on

to

Paris, where she

l e f t

him. Nor

did

she. long survive the enf orc ed

separation

from

her

child.

Theodore,

who

in

after



6 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i 9 .

years set i t down as

a

singular

mark

of the divine

goodness

that

he

had

been born

of

s uch

a

mother,

praises,

and

a p p a r en tl y n ot

without sufficient

reason,

both the intellectual and the moral

endowments

o f

Marie Bourdelot. To

extraordinary

nerve and

dex

terity

s he

added great kindliness of heart. Her at

tention to the wants of the poor was assiduous. They

repaid

her untiring solicitude with a sincere love.

I t

was no ordinary

misfortune

for Theodore to

be

separated

from, and shortly after de prived altogether

o f , su ch

a mother

and at a so tender age.

He

was

but a puny child,

of so

weakly

a constitution that

he barely

walked

at f i v e

years

of age. When this

dangerous

stage

was passed,

his physical

ailments

seemed

only to

increase.

At

one point

in

his child

hood

he

became

the

victim of

a

malady so painful

that

he

was

once,

when crossing

one

of

t he bri dg es

over

the

Seine, about to throw himself into

the river

for

the

purpose

of ending

his l i f e and his

misery

i n

a single

moment.

Such are

some

of the incidents that have come

down to us

i n , regard

to Beza's childhood and for

which we

are indebted to

the

autobiographical

notices

inserted in a letter

prefaced

to

his Confes

sion of

the

Christian

Faith.

The

letter

was

ad

dressed to Melchior Wolmar,

a

distinguished scholar,

to whom, under

God, the

future Reformer owed, more

than

to father

or

mother, that

training both

of

the

intellect

and of

the

affections which

qualified him

for

the great

part

he was

to p l ay

in

the

a f f a i r s of

Church

and State.1

1

T h i s

l e t t e r

i s

g i v e n

i n

t r a n s l a t i o n

i n

t h e

Appendix.




Melchior Wolmar was

born in ancient

Suabia,

or

i n

what

now

constitutes

the s outherl y

part

of

the

kingdom

of

Wiirtemberg,

at

the

l i t t l e

town of

Rott-

weil. Following an uncle, Michael Rottli, to Bern,

i n Switzerland,

he

became f i r s t pupil, then successor

of his kinsman in a Latin school which the latter

had

founded.

Thence Wolmar p a s s e d to Fribourg,

and a year or

two

l ater to Paris. Extreme indigence

did not

prevent

him

from

gratifying

his

taste

for

study, and he gave himself so ardently to the mas

tery of

the

Greek language, under the guidance of

Nicholas Berauld

and

other

competent

instructors,

that of one hundred young men that came up for

the degree of

licentiate at

the University, his name

was

the f i r s t

upon

the l i s t of the successful

c andi

dates. The pleasures or honours of

the

capital were

not

so

attractive

to him

as

tq

detain

him

long

on

the

banks of

the Seine,

o r ,

more probably,

Wolmar's

leaning toward Protestant

views was

too pronounced

to

make

a sojourn

at P aris either comfortable or

s a f e . Thus i t

was

that, about the year

1527,

he

established at

Orleans a school

for youth

which

soon obtained a

considerable degree of

popularity.

A

few

boys were

received

into

the f amily

of

the

founder.1

I t

was p erha p s

a yea r after

this time

that Beza's

uncle

happened to

entertain

at

his

house

in

Paris

a

relation

residing in

Orleans.

The

guest

was

a

man

of high

position, being

a member of

the king's

greater

council.

In the c ours e of the

meal,

noticing

1

S e e H e r m i n j a r d ,

C o r r e s p o n d a n c e d e s

R e ' f o r m a t e u r s dans l e s

Pays

d e Langue F r a n ^ a i s e , i i . , 2 8 0 , 2 8 1 , n o t e .



8

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

Theodore, who was present,

a

boy nine years old, he

remarked

that

he

had

himself

a

s on

of

about

the

same

age,

whom

he

had

p l a c e d with a certain Wol-

mar. So highly d id he praise the learning and a b i l i

ties

of this foreigner that, on the instant, Beza's

uncle,

who

had never

before heard of

Wolmar,

declared his

intention

to take

the rare

opportunity

and

to send

his

nephew to

Orleans.

He begged

that

Theodore might be a companion

of his

guest's

son.

He would make no

account of

t he op p o si tion

which

a l l

the

rest

of

the family made to the plan.

I t i s almost needless to s ay that, when, many years

l a t e r , Beza reviewed the circumstances from the

standpoint of

a

Protestant

and

a

Protestant leader,

he

c oul d not but regard the i m pu l se that

led his

uncle on the s p ur

of the moment

to send him

away

from

t he Un iv er si ty

o f .

Paris,

long

since

regarded

as

the most august

educational establishment of

the

world,

to

a school newly started in

a

province by a

stranger,

as

a

signal

exhibition

of

the

direct

inter

ference of

God.

He styled the

day on which

he

reached

Wolmar's

house

at

Orleans—t was the

5th

of December,

1 5 28—is second nativity; for i t was

the p oint in

his l i f e

from which

was to be

reckoned

the

beginning

of

every

advantage

he

received.

Never

ha s

pupil more enthusiastically admitted

the

instructor

of his boyhood

into the

company of

men

whose

pictures, he affectionately cherishes

i n his

memory,

than did Beza insert

the

portrait of Wol

mar

in the gallery

of

worthies

which,

many years

l a t e r , he

gave

to

the world

with

words

of

high

praise. Judging

from

the

profile

there

sketched,



MELIOR ( M E L C H I O R l

WOLMAR.

F R O M

B E Z A ' 8 I C O N E 8 .



OF

T H E

VERSITY



1 5 3 9 ]

Childhood and Youth 9

the

eminent

scholar's

appearance

indicated

the

strength

of

the mind that

lay

within. The

fore

head was high

and

prominent,

the

nose slightly

aquiline, the eyes

f u l l of

l i f e , the mouth small but

f i r m . 1

Melchior

Wolmar was no

longer an obscure

man.

About 1 5 3 0 he

was

invited by the

good

Princess

Margaret of Angouleme, sister of

Francis

I .

and

grandmother

of Henry

IV.,

to

be

one

of

that

band

of eminent

scholars with whom she

surrounded

her

s e l f

in

Bourges,

the

capital

of

her duchy

of Berry.

When Wolmar a c ce pte d the c a l l , young Theodore

Beza

went

with him

to

continue his studies.

I f

the

autobiographical letter which we

print in

the

Appendix f a i l s to

s u p p l y

us with

a

complete l i s t

of

the

branches

the

boy

pursued

under

his

beloved

teacher, his words afford a sketch which

the

reader's

imagination may readily f i l l out.

The teacher

was

painstaking and gave himself

unreservedly

to his

pupils.

He found in

Beza a

mind fired with

a desire

to learn. I f the natural

sciences

were few and im

perfectly understood at that time,

the

literature of

ancient Romeand Greece was a tre as ury upon which

students

might

draw

without s t i n t .

I t

would

have

been d i f f i c u l t for

a

lad of even moderate ability to

be constantly under the

faithful

instruction of any

respectable teacher for seven years without acquiring

great familiarity with

the

classical tongues. Under

so admirable a humanist as Wolmar, and s o uns el f

ishly devoted to his

l i t t l e

group of

ambitious youth,

1

S e e

B e z a ' s

I c o n e s .

The

book

i s

n o t

paged

and

t h e

p o r t r a i t s

a r e .

n o t

numbered,



io Theodore Beza [ 1 5 r 9 -

Beza and his

companions

gained a command of

both

Latin

and

Greek

su ch

as

few

men

i n

our

times c a n

claim

to possess. To Beza

Latin

became as familiar

as his mother

tongue. He

used

i t e ver a fterwards

readily, correctly,

and

effectively,

as one needed

to

be

able to

use

i t

who

was to s p e a k before kings and

the most

cultured of

audiences. The two

languages

at

once became the

key to

unlock the treasures

of

knowledge

laid up

in

p a st ages. I t was

no

hyperbole

i n

Beza's

mouth

to

s a y

tha t there

was

not a

branch

of

learning,

even to juris prudence, into whose

mys

teries he was not

at

least

partially

initiated

under

the

guidance

of

an

instructor

who

held himself

rather a friend and

companion

i n s tud y tha n

a

dis

tant

and austere

pedagogue.

Best of a l l , i n

Beza's

view, Wolmar had

not negl ec ted the

religious

wel

fare

of

his

pupils,

and

had

imbued them

with

the

knowledge of true religion drawn

from

the Word of

God, thereby giving him a claim to

their imperish

able gratitude.

Yet Theodore

Beza

was

certainly at

this time

no

ardent convert in whom clear convictions of

truth

had been

immediately

succeeded by overmastering

convictions

of

duty

and

by

a determination

to

re

nounce

a l l

s e l f i s h

plans

i n

favour

of

a

l i f e

of

volun

tary consecration to

a Master

whose service he

henceforth joyfully espoused. This

assertion

i s

abundantly proved by

his l i f e for

the next

ten

years.

Fully

as

he may have

accepted, and doubt

l e s s

did

accept,

the Word

of God as authoritative,

and sincerely as he

rejected

i n

his

heart,

and

pur

posed

at

some

future

and

convenient

season

to



1 5 3 9 ] Childhood

and

Youth n

rep ud ia te op enl y, s uch doctrines of

the Roman

Catholic

Church

as

he

had

learned

to

be

unscript-

u r a l ,

a long with the r i t e s

which

he now

viewed as

absurd and superstitious, he was by no means ready

as

yet to

make the sacrifices

which the

frank

acce pt

an ce of the new faith demanded. I f

his

intel

l e c t approved t he c reed in attestation of which many

humble men and women—arders, weavers, and

the

like—heerfully suffered martyrdom in France about

this time,

counting the

present

l i f e

as insignificant

and

valueless in comparison with

the l i f e eternal,

Beza was

s t i l l to

wait many

a

year before

reaching

such a condition

of mind and heart as was t h e i r s .

The present

l i f e with i t s

pleasures

and

ambitions

occupied both mind and hea rt p retty fully as yet.

I t

i s

interesting

at

this

point to notice

that there

was

another

youth

destined

to

be

a leader

i n

the

Protestant Reformation whose

l i f e

was

equally,

p os

sibly

even

more

deeply, affected by

contact

with

Melchior

Wolmar.

This

was

the young student

from Noyon, Jean Calvin, who also sought to profit

by the German

instructor's

great familiarity with

the Greek

language.

His residence was

not

a

p ro

tracted

one. He arrived after

Wolmar

had

removed

to

Bourges, and he

was

very shortly recalled home

by the death

of

his father.

Whether

the

two pupils,

Beza

and Calvin,

were

at this

time

brought

into re

lations

of close

intimacy,

i s

not

clear.

The disparity

of their ages may well have kept apart

the

young

man

of

twenty-two

and the

boy of

twelve,

but the

elder

not

less than

the younger imbibed the views of

their

common

teacher.

I t

i s

in

fact

the

statement



i2 Theodore Beza Osig-

of one of

the

most inveterate enemies of

the French

Reformation,

that

i t

was owing

to a

direct

sugges

tion of Wolmar that the young Cal vin abandoned

the

study of

the Code

of J us tini an to a p p l y

himself

to

the

study of theology, and that

this

was the

beginning of that career which

was

to p rove

the

source

of countless damage

to the

Christian Church.

Wolmar, although feigning to

be a

Catholic, was,

says this writer, a means of instilling

into

Ca lv in the

Lutheran

poison,

with

which

Cal vin

during

his

own

lifetime in

turn

infected many thousands

of s oul s to

their

eternal ruin.1

Calvin's stay with Wolmar was suddenly brought

to an end, as has been stated. That of Beza was

terminated, four or

five

years l a t e r , by

Wolmar's

return to Germany. Recalled to

his

native land,

Wolmar

would

gladly

have

taken with

him

his

promising student,

but Beza's

father resolutely

de

clined to

grant

his permission, and

insisted

that

Theodore should retrace

his

step s to the city of

Orleans, there to devote himself to

the

mastery of

c i v i l law.

As the son

obeyed reluctantly (May, 1535), so he

found no great

pleasure

in his new

task. The

study

of

the

l a w

pursued

without

intelligent

method,

and

taught, as i t

appeared

to him,

in a

barbarous man

ner, inspired

him,

not

with

admiration, but

with

aversion.

Consequently, while not neglecting

his

legal

studies, he began to devote

a considerable,

possibly

the

greater, part of his time to polite l e t -

1

Florimond

d e Rsemond, H i s t o r i a d e O r t u , Progressu

e t Ruina

Hareseon

hujus

S a c u l i ,

i i . ,

4 3 4 ,

4 3 5

( l i b . v i i . ,

c .

9 ) .




t e r s , and found

a

singular delight

in both Greek

and

Latin

authors.

I t

should

be

remembered

that

the

French tongue

was

as

yet rude. France had thus

far produced

few writers

of genuine

literary merit.

There

was

l i t t l e in contemporaneous

literature to

divert Beza from the perusal

of

t he m a s te rp i ec e s of

ancient

Athens and Rome.

Poetry, in

particular,

attracted him greatly.

.

He

a p p rec ia ted t he

verses of

the poets of a

bygone age,

and i t was no

d i f f i c u l t

thing for

a

youth

of

his

tastes

and

station to imagine himself

born to be

a

poet.

Nor

indeed was he

altogether

mistaken.

Whatever

may be said of the use to which he at f i r s t a p p lied

his poetical

a b i l i t i e s ,

and

however

much

those a b i l i

t i e s , when

subsequently employed in the

service

of

religion, have, especially in our age, been studiously

underrated,1

i t

will

be

seen

in

the s eq uel

that

while

Beza

was possessed of no genius calculated by i t s

scintillations to arouse the enthusiastic admiration

of the

world,

his poetical gifts were of no mean rank.

I t i s

no

accident

that

the

battle-psalm " of the

Huguenots,

so

well adapted to be sung at

the

charge,

as i t was

so

often sung during

the course

of

whole centuries, was not from the

pen of

the f a c i l e

and

timid

Clement

Ma rot, but

from

the

pen of

Theodore Beza, his

resolute

and more

thoroughly

convinced collaborator in the p rep ara tion of the

Huguenot psalter.

The time

for

writing the Protestant

battle-psalm

and s uch

serious compositions, however, was

as

yet

1 Notably by M. O . Douen i n h i s CUmcnt Marot e t l e P s a u t i e r

f f u g u e n o t

( P a r i s ,

1 S 7 8 - 7 9 ,

2

v o l s . ) .



i4 Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 I 9 -

i n the distant future, then to be composed under

the

p l a y

of

strong

and

serious

views

of

l i f e .

For

the present

his

poetical

gifts led

Beza to associate

himself with

a

select band

of young

men

of

similar

tastes, a l l

inc lined to

unite the

study

of the l a w with

the

more seductive

pursuit of the Muses. They

were

some

of

the most

cultured

and

learned mem

bers of the University

of

Orleans, men

who,

when

at a later date Beza

was

beginning his remarkable

career

as

a

Reformer

in

Switzerland,

had

already

secured high honours

in

the

land

upon

which

Beza's

conscientious convictions

had

compelled him reluc

tantly

but deliberately to turn

his back.

What the

poems

were

that Beza wrote

at

this

period, we shall examine a l i t t l e farther

on.

Four

years elapsed

from

the

date when

Beza

parted

from

Wolmar

—

our

years

of

a

decorous

and

blameless l i f e spent

in the society

of

honourable

and

scholarly men—hen, in August, 1539, his stay at

Orleans came to an

end.

He

had been

promoted

to

the

degree of licentiate

in

law, and

he

l e f t

the

university

on

the

banks of

the Loire

to return to

Paris. Let i t

not

be imagined that

the

training he

had received at Orleans even i n

the

matter of

l aw

had

been

insignificant

in

i t s

bearing

upon

his

subse

quent course, nor

that

he

had failed to

exhibit that

wonderful power of acquisition which characterised

his subsequent efforts in ev ery other department of

knowledge. Of

his

great popularity with

his

fellow-

students, there i s evidence enough in the cir

cumstance that

the nation

of Germany —he

scholastic

division

into

which, as a nativ e of Bur



1 5 3 9 ] Childhood and

Youth 1 5

gundy, he was

admitted

—elected him to be i t s head

under the

t i t l e

of procurator." As su ch not onl y

did

he

preside

over

the

internal a f f a i r s of the students

of his nation," but, with the other nine procura

t o r s , had a v ote i n the university council even in

such important matters as the election of the rector

of

the

institution.1

1 Heppe,

T h e o d o r £ e z a ,

8 .



CHAPTER

II

BEZA IN

PARIS

I5 3 9 -I5 4 8

THEODOREBEZAhad lately entered upon his

twenty-first year when, having

further

literary

or

professional

studies in view,

he returned

to

the

French capital. His prospects and his mental a t t i

tude deserve notice. He was a man of leisure, well

p r ov id ed with friends, possessed of abundant means

of present support, and a p p a re ntl y

the

master of

a

secure future. His uncle, the member of the judi

c i a l Parliament of Paris, the

best

friend of his child

hood, had indeed been dead for

seven years;

but

his

father's other brother, the Abbe de Froidmont,

was s t i l l alive and was not less attached to him than

the

judge had been. Theodore was in

the

enjoy

ment of

the

revenues

of

two rich

benefices

amount

ing

together to

about seven

hundred gold crowns.

His friends had

made this

weighty provision for

him

i n

his absence and despite

the

fact that

he was not

i n orders, and, according to his own admission, as

ignorant as any

other

layman could

possibly

be of

a l l matters of

a

clerical nature. As i f this were

not

enough, his good uncle had fully made up his mind

1 6



Beza in Paris

i7

that

Theodore

should

succeed him in

his abbey,

worth,

at

the

very

l e a s t ,

f i v e thousand

gold

crowns

a

year. Besides

t h i s ,

Theodore's eldest brother, s o

infirm in

body that his

l i f e

was

despaired

o f , held

certain

other

ecclesiastical benefices. There was

every reason to

believe

that

these would

ultimately

go

to

swell

Theodore's

income.

In short, the young man was surrounded with

every allurement to a l i f e of ease and comfort. Re

latives and

connections

of

the f a mily

by

marriage

were alike disposed

to further his d esires; while

other friends, whose favour was conciliated by the

reputation he

had

already gained and by the

p re

dictions made of his future distinction,

stood

ready

to applaud and congratulate. Whether he should

select the Church or the Bar, his

success

seemed

equally

assured.

In

his

reminiscences

of

the period of

his

l i f e now

i n

question, Beza

informs

us

that

at this

very

time

he was conscious that a l l these advantages were but

shares laid

for his

feet

by

the powers

of e v i l ,

with

the view

of preventing him from choosing the p a t h

which his inner con v ic tion s prompted him to enter

upon.

He had,

that i s

to say, long since

formed

the

resolution

that,

so

soon

as

he

should

find

him

s e l f master of himself and possessed of a certain

competence, he would leave

France.

He would

make

his

way to Germany, rejoin

his ol d

preceptor,

and, in

society

with

Wolmar, enjoy

the

liberty

of

professing his

conscientious convictions, even

at the

sacrifice

of more

brilliant worldly

prospects.

Meanwhile,

however,

there

was

l i t t l e

to

show

that



1

8

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

he had not renounced

the

hopes kindled within him

by

the

words and

example

of

Wolmar.

Without

giving a loose rein to dissipation or r i o t , and while

living what was regarded as an exemplary l i f e for a

young man of station, wealth, and brilliant expecta

tions, he

was quite

content

to

devote the ease con

ferred

upon him by

his

p os ition to the pursuit of

the

Muses

and

to whatever

literary

studies

his f ancy

might

dictate.

Such

a

l i f e ,

however,

was

as

far

from

meeting

the

legitimate ambition of his father, as i t was from

satisfying the demands of

conscience.

Conse

quently, the

next

few years were i n reality as f u l l

of struggle and discontent as they might have been

supposed replete with satisfaction and quiet. A

brief sketch of Beza's experience at this time i s

fortunately

l e f t

us

in

a

letter

written

by

him

to

an ol d comrade at Dijon. When he returned from

Orleans,

Theodore says to his friend, his father

looked

to

his devoting himself at once to the prac

tice of

the legal profession. Unfortunately the very

thought of s uch a l i f e inspired him with disgust.

The palais," or parliament-house, seemed

a

house

of bondage ; to enter i t s walls was to become

a

bond

man

for

whom

there

was

no

hope

of

escaping

a

hate

f u l drudgery.1

As much as the father

insisted, so

much

the

son resisted, urging,

not

without reason,

that his previous training,

not

to speak of

the

natural bent of his mind, disqualified him for

the

lucrative

but

repulsive profession to which

he

was

urged. Apparently

the disputes

between father

1

Beza

t o

Pompon,

P a r i s .

J u l y

1 9 .

s .

a .

Baum.

i . ,

9 1 .



1 5 4 8 ]

l 9

eza in

Paris

and s on were frequent, protracted,

and

animated.

They

were

ended,

or

at

least

adjourned,

through

the intercession of

Beza's elder brother.

Unable

to

oppose the united entreaties

of his

two sons, the

father

became

l e s s obdurate,

and domestic

harmony

was finally restored

by

a compact on these terms:

that the two brothers should hire

for themselves a

house at common expense,

and

that, whil e the elder

should devote himself to the family

a f f a i r s ,

the

younger

should

enjoy

his

liberty

to

study.

"Accordingly,"

says

Beza, I lived

one

year

a nd

then

a

second i n by

f a r the

most

blessed manner, since

I lacked neither l e i s u r e ,

nor

any kind of teachers, nor

abundance of

means,

nor, i n

f i n e , -the

inclination t o

master

those

studies which,

as

you know,

have

pleased

me

supremely."

The untimely, i f not altogether unexpected, death

of his brother broke rudely

in upon

Beza's delight.4

This

blow

recalled to the father's mind

his former

purposes

regarding his son, and caused

him

again

to i n s i s t upon a f i n a l renunciation of

the

scholarly

l i f e to which Theodore had hitherto devoted

himself.

" I am weighed down, said P i e r r e ,

"

by a great ma s s

of a f f a i r s , a nd have reached an

a d v an ce d age.

I t

i s but

j u s t

a nd

f a i r

that

you, my

son,

upon

whom

a l l my hopes

are

f i x e d , should assume

the

burden. Yield a t length

and consult your own best i n t e r e s t s a nd the i n t e r e s t s of

your f r i e n d s , a nd give up those empty and p r o f i t l e s s

studies

which you

have

pursued

f o r

so

many

years."



2o Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

Theodore, however,

was not

convinced that

the

p a t h

urged

upon

him

was

that

which

he

ought

to

take,

and

resisted

with great determination.

Con

scious of the

possession of abilities

for which

the l i f e

of routine i n a p rof es sion which

he

detested

offered

no

scope,

he f e l t

that to yield would

be

to make

shipwreck of a l l

higher

aspirations. In this

he

was

doubtless encouraged by the judgments

which his

associates had p a s s e d

upon

his literary

powers, a l

though

not

even

their

most

sanguine

anticipations

could

have

forecast the

particular

sphere

of his

b r i l

liant successes. I t i s d i f f i c u l t , however,

in

view

of

the

great part

which

Beza

was

destined to p l a y i n

the

religious and political history of

the sixteenth

century, to close

our eyes

to

the

providential guid

ance

of his mind and

will in the strenuous

opposi

tion

which

he

instituted

and

maintained

to

forces

that might

have

made

him possibly

a couns el l or of

parliament conspicuous

for intelligence and for

greater

freedom

from class

prejudice than his f e l

lows, but

exercising no appreciable influence

upon

the

great movements of the

intellectual

and

religious

thought

of

his generation.

How long the

obstinate

contest between father

and

son

might

have

lasted,

and

to

what

l en gths the

former might have

gone in

his indignation at the

disappointment of his c heris hed hop es , had i t

not

been

for the enlightened

views

and calm judgment

of

the

Abbe

de

Froidmont, are questions that we

cannot

answer. That

sagacious

kinsman, who had

more than once before given us ef ul a dv ic e, being

now

chosen,

by

mutual

consent

of

the

parties,

to



1 5 4 8 i Beza in Paris 2t

the

honourable o f f i c e of

umpire, gave

a decision

which

i f i t

did

not

satisfy

his

nephew's

desires, at

least seemed to him slightly

more

equitable than the

course hitherto

prescribed.

"

Inasmuch as

Theo

dore i s so averse

to

the

practice

of the

law," he

said, l e t him indeed continue in

the

course upon

which

he ha s entered ; l e t him, however, become

the client of some p rince or magnate from whom

there

may be

hope

of deriving

some

f r u i t of his

labours." Sooth to say,

the

line of l i f e suggested

by his uncle was scarcely less repugnant to

the

young

and

ambitious student than that which his

father would

have

had him follow.

" What do

you fancy

that my feelings were then, my

friend Pompon

?

"

he exclaimed.

" Was

I to go t o

the

court,

I

who

had

learned

neither

how

t o

dissemble

nor

how

t o

f l a t t e r ?

Was

I

t o embrace t h i s

mode

of l i f e sub

j e c t

t o so

many tumults,

I

who

hoped t o l i v e

i n

such

honourable l e i s u r e ?

"

Yet yield he must, for f ear that worse might befall

him. He

had

chosen,

or

there

had

been chosen for

him, the Bishop

of

Coutances

as

the patron

under

whose auspices he was to enter upon the l i f e of a

courtier;

he

had

in fact just been introduced

to

the palace and household of this magnate,

when

c i rc um stan c es oc c urred which, as was thought at the

time, merely deferred until

a

future occ asion the

execution

of his unc le' s designs ,

but

which in

reality, as i t

turned

out, altogether

frustrated

them.

In his contemporaneous corres pondence

the

c i r

cumstances

in

question

are

somewhat

vaguely de



2 2

Theodore Beza

r 1 5 t o -

signated as the

storms

of wars "

;

but

as the letter

containing-the

expression

i s

unfortunately

without

the date of

the

year,

i t

i s p erha p s impossible to

as

certain

definitely the political or milita ry events

particularly

referred

t o .

Meanwhile Beza

gladly

welcomed any respite from the

employment

to

which he

had

so lately

deemed himself

condemned.

"

Thus

has

i t

come

t o p a s s ,

"

he gleefully

wrote, "

that

I

have

returned

t o

my

former

manner

of

l i f e ,

i n

which,

unless some greater force s h a l l hinder, I s h a l l assuredly

grow o l d . And I f e e l confident that a t length I s h a l l

leave t o

posterity

the proof that Beza did not l i v e u t t e r l y

i d l e , a l b e i t

he

lived i n the

greatest

leisure." 1

The

l a s t words, written

in the confidence

of friend

ship, give

us the clue

to the

employments

and

aspira

tions

of

this

somewhat

obscure

period

of

Beza's

l i f e .

His was no t r i f l e r ' s existence. I f he daily spent

some hours i n

the

company of a select number of

wits

of

his

own

age, and

i f he

may occasionally

have

seemed

to have

no higher aim than by intercourse

with

them

to

strive to

give

a keener

edge to

his i n

cisive

speech, by far the

greater

part of his time was

devoted to more

serious e f f o r t s .

Year by year,

partly

alone,

partly

with

the

help

of

the

numerous

excellent teachers

whom

he had

at command,

he

was

making

progress i n the departments of study

r.pon

which he

had

already entered, and entering

f i e l d s previously unexplored. All this was to be no

l e s s s erv ic ea bl e to him in

that

future of which he

could

as

yet have had scarcely even

a

suspicion,

1

Beza

t o

Pompon.

P a r i s .

J u l y

l g , . J . a .

Baum,

i . ,

A p p . ,

9 2 .



1 5 4 8 ]

Beza in Paris

23

than the

literary acumen

which

attrition

with

men

of s im il ar

tastes

and gifts

was

conferring

upon

him.

There seem

to have

been

some f r u i t s

early

in

his

residence at

Paris

of

the

legal studies imposed

upon

him by his father, or

undertaken from

a

sense

of

compunction at seeming

to

pay

l i t t l e or no

respect

to that

father's wishes.

A

casual

reference

made

i n

the postscript

of one of his

letters

1 to

a

treatise

on the Salic

Law, that might be expected to issue

from the press

within

a

few

months, and

under

his

auspices,"

points

ap p arently

to some

results

of

attention given

to

the theory

of law, which was l e s s

repugnant to him than i t s practice. Be that as i t

may, there i s , so far as I know, no evidence that the

book or booklet i n q ues tion ev er actually

ap peared.

In the

same

letter

the

writer s peaks of

devoting

hours

to

the

reading

of

Hebrew.

Occasionally,

too,

he

varied his

work by

perfecting his

acquaintance

with

mathematics. To Latin and Greek he

undoubt

edly s t i l l gave great attention.

I f

the foundations

of an

accurate knowledge of

the

latter tongue had

been well

laid while he

was under the instruction

of

Wolmar,

there must

have

been

built up

during

the

years of private study at P aris that superstructure

of

close

and

intimate

familiarity

with

the

idiom

of

the

language which stood him i n good stead both a t

Lausanne and at Geneva. I t was evidently a long

course of preliminary

reading

that qualified

him

for

the d is c ha rg e of

the

duties of professor of Greek i n

1 I f i s t he f o u r t h

o f

t h e e i g h t

l e t t e r s

which P r o f e s s o r Baum

was s o

f o r t u n a t e a s t o d i s c o v e r i n t h e Simmler C o l l e c t i o n

o f

t h e L i b r a r y

o f

Z u r i c h .

S e e

Baum,

T h e o d o r

B e z a ,

i . ,

3 3 .



24 Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 i 9

the

c ollege of

Lausanne

— position

which

he

ac

ce pted

soon

after his

expatriation,

and

which

he

retained for the next nine

or ten

years—s well as

for

his

work of

Biblical

interpretation.

In the enjoyment of means and of leisure, now at

length secured, to gratify to the f u l l his literary and

studious tastes, i t might have seemed that Beza

must possess everything essential to

his

happiness.

I t was not

s o .

I have

already

referred to

the unrest

of

his

soul

from

the

moment

of

his

return to

Paris,

and to

the distinct purpose

which he had

soon

formed to

break loose i n due time

from everything

detaining him in a land where he could not profess

the doctrines with which he

had

become imbued

from association with Wolmar,—

he

purpose to

direct his steps to a country in which liberty of con

science

reigned,

and

where,

in

company

with

his

ol d

preceptor, he might live

an

ideal existence. This

purpose he never renounced. Neither, on

the

other hand ,

did

the allurements by which he was

surrounded lose their force. Between the higher

and the lower motives,

the

struggle in Beza's soul

was severe and protracted.1 I p a s s on to the ev ents

i n which

the conflict issued.

Of

these

the

f i r s t

was

his secret

marriage.

Beza had not taken

the

f i r s t step toward becoming

a p r i e s t . He had never assumed the vows

that

con

demn to

a

l i f e

of

celibacy. Yet, in

accordance

with

a n abuse against which complaints had certainly

1 For a

f u l l

t r a n sl a t io n o f B e z a ' s c o n f e s s i o n , whose

p a t h o s

i s

s c a r c e l y i n f e r i o r

t o

t h a t o f

S a i n t

A u g u s t i n e h i m s e l f ,

s e e h i s .

l e t t e r i n

t h e

Appendix,



1 5 4 8 ]

2 5

eza

in

Paris

been numerous enough, but

which no complaints

had

been

potent

enough

to eradicate,

he

was

enjoy

ing, although

a layman,

the income of more than

one ecclesiastical foundation. He

was nattered

by

the hope

of obtaining

s t i l l

greater

resources

of the

same kind in future. There were many

other

f av ourites of fortune

that

found

themselves

in

a

similar situation. The world

was

so used

to the

sight of

laymen

fattening

upon the

Church's

p a s

tures,

that

the

unthinking

were

not

even

greatly

startled when the

intruder was

the most

unfit

of

men

for

the discharge

of

sacred functions, possibly

as unblushing in the

immorality

of

his l i f e as the

libertine

Abbe

de

Brant6me of a later period. They

were shocked only when the

lay abbot

married and

shut

himself

o f f

from

the possibility

of

ever becom

ing

a

clergyman.

Claudine

Desnoz was the

narrie of

the

young

woman

upon whom

Beza's

choice f e l l . She was of

a reputable f am il y, but, as Beza himself admits, of

a

family inferior in

station to his

own.

In view

of

the

fact that

her

husband, who was by

no

means

indifferent to matters of

the

kind, ha s nothing to

say

of her gentle birth, we may well dismiss as pure

fictions

su ch

statements

as

that

s he

was

the

daugh

ter of a n ad vocate of Paris, or

the

sister of a

bishop

of Grenoble.1 Be t h i s , however, as i t may, the

marriage took p l ace

ap p arently

at some time

in the

year 1544, and

the

witnesses were

two

of Beza's

most intimate and honourable friends, both of them

jurists of distinction, Laurent de Normandie and

1

B a y l e ' s

D i c t i o n a r y ,

i n

t h e

a r t i c l e

"

B e z a , "



26

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 I 9 -

Jean Crespin. Of the latter I shall have

more

to

say

presently.

As

to

the

marriage

i t s e l f ,

much

as

the s ec rec y with which i t was

entered

into must be

condemned, the

union,

duly ratified as i t was four

years

later i n

a p ublic

ceremonial,

proved a

ha r

monious

and

congenial

one that

lasted until the

death of Claudine.

In

later times Beza

proved

himself

no

irresolute

man. At

the

present time, whether i t

should be

said that

the desirability

of earthly possessions and

ease and leisure to pursue his studies with an as

siduity that

had

won

him

among

his

companions

the

playful

appellation of

the new philosopher,"

loomed up before his eyes in exaggerated propor

tions, or that

the

far more exceeding v alue of

the

favour of

God

and

of

a clear

c ons cienc e v oid

of

offence

with

Him

and

with

men

had

not yet

be

come to him

a

living

reality, he

long remained

i n a

pitiable condition of

uncertainty, not

so much re

specting

what

he

ought

to do as respecting what

he could

bring

himself to do.

Nothing

short of a

miracle seemed

necessary

to draw him

out

of the

mire

in

which,

to

use his

own expression,

he found

himself caught, unable to come to a definite

c on

clusion

;

with

a l l

his

relations

prompting

him

to

a do pt some

certain course

of l i f e from which he

might acquire wealth and distinction, and his

kindly

uncle offering him

the

prospect of s t i l l greater

property, while,

on

the other hand, conscience

pointed him in

a

different

direction and his wife

pressed him

again and again to

execute

his

long-de

ferred

purpose

to

acknowledge

her

bef ore the

world.



1 5 4 8 ]

27

eza in Paris

That miracle was wrought i n

his

conversion, which

dates

from

the

latter

part

of

the

year

1548.

Before speaking

of this

turning-point in

his

l i f e ,

i t

i s appropriate

that I should s p e a k

of

the publication,

early i n the same

year, of

the collection of

his

poems

which came

to

be

styled his

Juvenilia.

These

cele

brated

pieces belong

altogether to

his

youth, that

i s ,

to

the period i n which he

was

i n

no sense a Re

former,

but, ins tea d,

a

brilliant

and

ambitious devo

tee

of belles-lettres.

Though

many

of them had

circulated freely

among

the author's

friends and a d

mirers,

they

had never

been given

to

the public

through the

press.

I t

was

evidently not

without some

scarcely c on

cealed

satisfaction at the neatness of

his work,

that

Beza dedicated

these

f i r s t - f r u i t s

of his

poetical efforts

to

his

ol d

preceptor

Melchior

Wolmar.

/ /

Beza was

twenty-eight or twenty-nine years

of age.

Neither

the young man who dedicated, nor the

ol d

man who

acce pted

the

dedication with obvious delight, saw

anything amiss

in these poems.

Twelve

years

more

elapsed,

and

Beza, now be

come

a

man

of forty,

a n

avowed Protestant and a

zealous

Reformer,

had occasion

to dedicate

to his

former

teacher a

second volume of

an

entirely differ

ent

character, which he entitled

a

Confession of

the

Christian

Faith.

He assigned

two

motives

for so

doing.

The one

was

that he might

return to Wol

mar

some

harvest from

the f i e l d which Wolmar had

sown; the other, that he

might

have

the opportun

ity of offering his master

a

book infinitely better and

more

holy

than

the

poems

which,

i t

seems, Wolmar



28 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

had urged

him to republish.

To this

statement

he

appended

a

f ew

pathetic

words:

" As respects

those

poems, who i s there that either has

condemned them more than I , their unhappy a uthor, or

that

detests

them more than I d o to-day ? Would, there

f o r e ,

that they

might

a t length be

buried

i n perpetual

oblivion

And may

the

Lord

grant t h a t , since

i t

i s im

possible that what has been done should be undone, the

persons

who

s h a l l

read

writings of

mine

f a r

different

from

those poems may rather congratulate

me

upon the

greatness of God's goodness t o me, than accuse him who

voluntarily makes confession and deprecates the f a u l t of

h i s

youth."

1

These are

the

brave

and

honest words of

a

man

true to his convictions and more anxious to set

himself

right

at

the bar

of

his

own

conscience

than

to forestall the adverse judgment of others.

For,

i n point

of

f a c t , learned and cultured men, and

none

more than

the

adherents of the other f a i t h , ap

plauded the sprightliness

of his verses and never

thought

of

condemning them

as wanton,

certainly

never

gave expression to such

a

thought. Thus

the

grave and learned President

fitienne Pasquier,

i n

his

great work on

The

Researches

of

France,"

remarked

that Beza i n his youth

composed

divers French

and

Latin poems

which

were

very

favourably re

ceived

throughout a l l France,

and

particularly

his

La tin ep ig ra m s, wherein he

celebrated

his mistress

under the name of Candida.

" In 1 5 4 8 , " he adds,

1 D e d i c a t i o n o f

C o n f e s s i o F i d e i ,

i n

f i n e .

2

L e s

R e c h c r c h e s

d e

l a

France

( e d .

o f

1 6 2 1 ) ,

6 4 9 .



THEODORE

BEZA

AT T H E AGE

OF

2 9 .

F R O M

F I R S T E D I T I O N

O F

B E Z A ' S

P O E M A T A . "





1 5 4 8 ]

29

eza in Paris

"

when

he

changed his

religion,

he made

a

show of

despising

them.

"

Literary productions upon which their author

himself

sets a low

estimate

have in

ordinary cases

a

f a i r

chance of

being

forgotten

by

others

naturally

l e s s interested i n

preserving

them.

The

odium theo-

logicum of

which

Beza was the

object may

safely be

credited

with being

the c aus e of the

survival and

celebrity of

the Juvenilia. In

f a c t ,

the outrageous

misrepresentation

of enemies, determined to

discover

i n

what was

most innocent untol d depths of deprav

i t y , compelled

the very author who

had vainly

sought to consign

them

to forgetfulness,

himself

to

bring

them

out

again

in

subsequent

editions,

so that

he

might

be

able

to

show

to the

world what

were in

reality these

lighter

poems so maligned

by

men who

had

a ma nif est

purpose

in

their

inventions.

The

contrast between

the Juvenilia

and the sacred drama

of Abraham

Sacrifiant,

or the metrical

translation of

the

Psalms

of D a v i d , might be unedifying enough;

but, at l e a s t ,

the

republication was

sufficient

to

cast

to the winds those

foul calumnies that

breed most

readily

in darkness and ignorance.

,

What,

then,

were

these much-abused epigrams

?

/ J ust

su ch

poems

as

a

very

young

man - âlmost

a l l

of them

were

written before B eza ' s twen tie th year,

although

they

were

published some

years

later--

might write; especially i f that young man were pos

sessed of a certain s k i l l in composing verses and

were much encouraged thereto by

the

a p p l a u s e that

welcomed his f i r s t efforts; most of a l l i f ,

wielding

a

facile

pen,

he were

uncommonly

learned

for

his



3°

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

a ge

i n classical literature,

admiring

Virgil, adoring

Ovid,

and

conscious

of

no

higher

ambition,

so

far

as

style was

concerned, than to

spend

his

hours

of

re

laxation

i n

imitating

and

endeavouring

to equal o r ,

i f possible, exc el the

wonderful elegance of Catullus.

I t was the

fashion of the

a ge to indulge in a freedom

of language

which offends a more modern sense

of

propriety, but

by no

means proves

that

the

l i f e

of

the writer was

imp ure. Ind eed , the poet

indignantly

protests

against

s uch

an

inference

and

confidently

a p p e a l s to the testimony of those

that

knew him

intimately to

establish

the

contrary.

/

" There are among my

poems ,"

he wrote,

"

a

few that

are written

i n somewhat

too

f r e e

a

tone, that i s , i n imita

t i o n of Catullus

a nd

Ovid; but I

ha d

not the s l i g h t e s t

fear

a t that

time, nor

do

I

now

f e a r ,

l e s t those

that knew

me a s I wa s

should

gauge my morals by those playful i n

ventions

of

my imagination." 1

On this score nothing more need be said than that

not many of the fuvenilia are open to

the

charge

of indelicacy, while many are above reproach ; none

more charming and innocent than the celebrated

poem

addressed

to

a

fictitious

Audebert,

a

com

panion

and equal

in

years, wherein

the

r i v a l claims

of

friendship and love are

poetically

set

forth.

I t

ha s been the misfortune of Beza,

as

i t i s

a striking

illustration of

the

perverse imaginations

of

those

who will

see evil i n everything

on which

they

cast

their jaundiced eyes, that this most graceful and

de-

1

J u d i c a t i o n

o f

C o n f e s s i o

F i d e i ,

p a g e

3 ,



Beza in

Paris

3i

Iightful of

lyrics ha s been

furiously

attacked

as i f i t

were

a

shameless

avowal

of

unnatural

passion.1

In sum, i t may be s af el y s aid that poems which

were read

and

admired by the

cultured

throughout

France would never have met with censure or p ro

voked controversy, had i t not been that their author,

subsequently to their publication

and many years

later

than their composition,

was

converted to other

and worthier views of l i f e and i t s great objects.

They

belong to a

stage

of

Beza's l i f e with which he

had

completely

broken when,

under

the

sway of

strong religious convictions, he turned his steps

toward Switzerland ; and so far from

seeking

for a

l i f e of quiet and self-indulgence, deliberately re

nounced

a

future of ease for

the

prospect of com

parative poverty,

of conflict, and of p e r i l .

1

S e e

t h e

poem

"

Theodoras

B e z a ,

d e

s u a

i n

Candidam

e t

Aude-

bertum

B e n e v o l e n t i a . " Baum, T h e o d o r B e z a , i . ,

1 0 1 ,

1 0 2 ,

and t h e

e di t io n o f t h e f u v e n i l i a

by

A .

Machard ( P a r i s ,

1 8 7 9 ) , 2 3 4 - 2 3 6 .



CHAPTERIII

CONVERSION

OF BEZA

—EPARTURE

FROM FRANCE

—

ALL TO LAUSANNE—"

ABRAHAM'S SACRI

FICE "

1548-1550

THE

onversion

of Theodore

Beza

occurred

a

few

months after

the

publication of

the

fuvenilia

and in connection with an illness of so

serious

a

nature

that

his

l i f e

was

for

a

time

in

doubt.

Never

had

man greater reason

to

regard an

a p p ar ent ca

lamity as a blessing in disguise. He rose from the

bed upon which disease had cast him with views and

aims totally different from those which he

had

cher

ished until then.

The

same letter that ha s ena bl ed

us to trace to some extent his intellectual develop

ment, raises for

a

moment the veil

that

hides

the

innermost

spiritual

experiences

of

the

man

from

the

scrutiny of his fellow. Hours of enforced idleness,

as well as of extreme peril

and

suffering, were

the

condition of

his gaining the f i r s t glimpse

of

his true

character in God's sight. P a s t and present alike

seemed to arise and ac cuse him, and their testimony

could not be silenced

or

refuted.

Turn

his eyes

which

way

he

would,

he

found

confronting

him

the

3 2



1 5 4 8 ]

33

is

Conversion

judgment throne

of

an offended Deity. The agony

was

sharp

and

protracted.

I t

was

merc if ul ly s uc

ceeded

by a view of the pardon

extended to

him no

less

distinct

and

beyond the realm of doubt. Ab

horrence

of

his

sins

was

followed by petitions for

forgiveness,

and these

by

a f u l l consecration of his

powers

to

the service of

his

Saviour.

From

extreme

darkness

verging upon despair, he emerged

into

a

brilliant

and

enduring l i g h t .

Clearness

of

religious

conviction

led

to

decided

and instantaneous action. Old objections and ob

stacles vanished or were brushed aside. Theodore

Beza once thoroughly convinced of duty was

not

the

man to postpone action, o r , in the apostle's

words, to be disobedient to the heavenly vision.

He did

not

even wait until he was fully restored to

health,

but while s t i l l far from strong carried into

effect the resolution which he

had

formed of betak

ing himself to

a

land where he could freely make

profession of his religious b e l i e f . He gathered to

gether su ch of his property as he could carry with

him,

and,

not announcing

his purpose to any of his

friends or relatives, made his way, accompanied by

his wife, and under

the

assumed name, i t i s said, of

Thibaud

de

Ma y , 1

to

the

city

of

Geneva.

He

reached

i t on

the 24th

of October, 1

548.

Such

in brief

i s

Beza's

account

of the decisive step

of his l i f e

—

o

precipitate

and

enforced

flight of a

v i l l a i n unwhipped

of justice,

a f l i g h t rendered

neces

sary by

flagitious crimes

committed,

as

malignant

1 Florimond d e Rjemond, H i s t , d e O r t u , Progressu e t Ruina

Hares,

e d .

o f

1 6 1 4 ) ,

i i . ,

4 9 8 .

3




and mendacious calumniators

subsequently

and

down to our times have dared to assert with

unblushing effrontery,

but

the

honourable

with

drawal of an

honest

man from a country with which

were bound up a l l his prospects of p referment and

of worldly prosperity, that in a foreign land he

might seek and obtain, along

possibly

with the dis

comforts of poverty, the

freedom to

worship God in

a cc ord anc e with the

dictates

of

his

conscience.

One

of his

f i r s t

acts

on

reaching

Geneva

was

to

p ro

cure

the

public and solemn

recognition of

his mar

riage with C l aud ine Desnoz.

His

future

was a l l

unknown to

him. He possessed

no handicraft

by

means of

which

the emigrant may

hope,

as

soon

as

he ha s gained a

slight

footing in

a

foreign land, to secure subsistence.

Of

learned and

unpractical scholars

there was

an

abundance

both in

Switzerland

and

i n

Germany.

Many

of

these

were

penniless and a

burden upon

their hosts.

We have

no reason

to

believe

that this was the case

with

Theodore

Beza,

who in

his

quiet

removal

from

his

native land may well be supposed

to have

been

able

to

bring

with

him

a l l the

funds necessary to

meet

the

temporary

needs at least

of

himself

and his wife.

But

his

open

renunciation

of

the

Roman

Catholic

Church cut o f f ev ery c ha nnel of supply that had

flowed so

freely hitherto,

sa ve

su ch

as came

from

the

paternal estates;

and the anger

of father, uncle,

and

other kinsmen

might well be

expected

to inter

rupt,

i f

not permanently end, a l l expectations

from

this

quarter. Under these

circumstances, Beza's

thoughts at

f i r s t turned

to a

pursuit which,

although



1 5 4 8 ] HeLeaves France 35

not strictly

a learned

profession,

had

been taken up

by

some

of

the

most

eminent

scholars

of

the

day.

I

refer to

the

printing of

books,

which, in

the hands

of

the

Al di at

Venice

and

the

Etiennes or Stephens

of his

own

native

land,

had attained, or was soon to

attain,

the

distinction of ranking with

the

fine

a r t s .

Jean Crespin,

a

native of Arras, came to Geneva at

the

same time with Beza. They were men of about

the same

age.

Both

had

studied law,

and both had

been

affected by

the

new

doctrines,"

as

they

were

called. Crespin, i n particular,

had

witnessed

in

the

city

of

Paris, where

he was admitted as

an a d vo cate

of the

court of

Parliament, the triumphant

death of

at

least

one Protestant

martyr. The constancy

of

Claude Le Peintre, a goldsmith,

burnt

alive on

the

P l a ce Maubert, in 1540, seems to

have

led Cres pin

to

the

distinct

espousal

of

the

tenets

of

the

Reformed

Churches.1 Similarity

of views brought the young

men together,

and they naturally

conceived the

idea

of establishing at Geneva,

on the

very

frontiers

of

Franc e, a

great printing

establishment

from which

books and publications of various kinds

in favour

of

the

Gospel might be issued and

circulated

far and

near

throughout the

kingdom. The project as a

joint

enterprise

finally

f e l l

through

;

for

there

was

in

store for Beza a career of

usefulness

of quite a

different character and better s uited to his resplend

ent a b i l i t i e s . But Jean Cres pin

d id not

abandon his

purpose. His plans were realised within a f ew years

1 S e e a r t . " C r e s p i n " i n Haag, La France P r o t e s t a n t e , i v . ,

8 8 6 .

C r e s p i n d e s c r i b e s Le F e i n t r e ' s martyrdom i n h i s g r e a t work o f

which t h e t i t l e i s g i v e n i n t h e n e x t n o t e e d . o f 1 5 6 0 ) , f o l , 6 6 ,




so succes s ful ly

that

not onl y

did his

presses gain a

celebrity

for

the

beauty

of

their

products only

second

to the

fame of

the

presses of

the

great printers I

have named,

but

became instrumental in

giving

a

great i m pu l se to

the

doctrines of

the

Reformation.

His

own

personal activity as an

author did good

service in his great martyrology, which,

in

success

iv e editions and under different

t i t l e s , chronicled

" the

Acts and Monuments of

the

martyrs who from

Wyclif

and

Huss

until

this

our

age

have

steadfastly

sealed the truth of

the

Gospel with their blood in

Germany,

France,

England,

Flanders, Italy,

and

S p a i n

itself." I t

was

a great historical and bio

graphical work, not indeed free from

occasional

errors

—

rrors

that may well

be

excused, in view of

the difficulty

and

dangers encountered in the collec

tion

of

so

great

a

number of particular

facts

from

widely

different sources

and even from

well-guarded

prisons

and

places

of execution

—ut

a

work, never

theless, for the

most part, wonderfully exact

and

trustworthy, with which Crespin

i s

to be

congratu

lated for having

linked

his name for a l l time.1

1 T he f i r s t

i m p r e s s i o n

was i n French and was e n t i t l e d " Le L i v r e

d e s M a r t y r s , q u i e s t

un

r e c u e i l d e p l u s i e u r s M a r t y r s q u i o n t e n d u r e

l a

mort pour

l e

nom

d e

n o s t r e

S e i g n e u r

J e s u s

C h r i s t ,

d e p u i s

Jean

Hus

j u s q u e s

a c e t t e annee p r e s e n t e ,

1 5 5 4 . "

The a u t h o r ' s manu

s c r i p t o r i g i n a l l y had

t h e t i t l e

o f "

Le

L i v r e

d e s

S a i n t s " ;

b u t t h e

G r e a t

C o u n c i l o f G e n e v a , i n

a u t h o r i s i n g

i t s p u b l i c a t i o n ,

s t i p u l a t e d

f o r

o b v i o u s

r e a s o n s t h a t " S a i n t s " s h o u l d b e changed t o " Martyrs,"

La France P r o t e s t a n t e , i v . , 8 9 0 . I

q u o t e

i n t h e p r e s e n t work t h e

L a t i n v e r s i o n made by B a d u e l under C r e s p i n ' s

own e y e s , p r i n t e d

a t

h i s own p r e s s e s , and t h e r e f o r e o f e q u a l a u t h o r i t y

w i t h

t h e French

my own copy b e i n g o f t h e r a r e

s e c o n d

e d i t i o n : A c t i o n e s e t Moni-

menta

Martyrum,

G e n e v a ,

1 5 6 0 .

S e e

B i b l i o g r a p h y .



1 5 4 8 ]

37

e

Leaves France

But

while i t may

not

have

been

very long before

Beza

definitely

renounced

the

career

to

which

Cres-

p in would

gladly

have welcomed him, i t

did

not at

once appear

to what

department of activity a man

of s uch marked

abilities

should devote himself.

For manifold were

the

advantages he possessed.

/His personal appearance was striking. He was of

good

stature and well proportioned. His

counten

ance was very pleasing. Refinement was stamped

upon his features. His whole bearing was that of a

man accustomed

to

the best society. His manners

at once

conciliated

the f av our

of

the great

and

found

him friends among

the

gentle sex. This i s

the

t e s t i

mony

both of the inimical his toria n of The Origin,

Progress,

andRuin

of

the

Heresies ofOur Time, Flori-

mond de

Raemond, and of

the

Jesuit

Maimbourg.1

The

latter

writer

furthermore

v ol un teer s t he

state

ment that i t

was

undeniable

that Beza's

intellect

was

of

a

very high order, being keen, ready, acute,

sprightly, and bright, for he had taken pains to cul

tivate i t

by the

study of belles-lettres and

particu

larly of poetry, wherein

he

excelled

both

in French

and i n Latin. To which very handsome tribute

the

c r i t i c

somewhat grudgingly adds

a

concession that

Beza knew a l i t t l e

philosophy and jurisprudence,

learned

i n

the schools

of Orleans. Allowance being

made in

the l a s t

sentence for

t he s tron g prejudice

of

the partisan historian, the

portrait

may be acce pted

as

sufficiently accurate,

as

i t

i s

unexpectedly favour

able.

1 H i s t ,

d e

O r t t i , Progressu e t

Ruina

Har. e d . 1 6 1 4 ) , i i . ,

6 3 2 .

Maimbourg,

H i s t o i r e

du

C a l v i n i s m e

( e d .

1 6 8 2 ) ,

2 1 7 .



38 Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

That Theodore Beza was welcomed with delight

by

John

Calvin

need

scarcely

be

said.

The

great

Reformer, now at

the

height of his renown and use

fulness, had never

forgotten

the promising lad,

ten

years

his junior, who had studied under

the

same

teacher and of whose

singular brilliancy

that teacher

had never tired of making mention. And now that,

after

a

long period of hesitation, Beza, by

a

single

bold step, had broken with

the p a st

and, sacrificing

rank, ease, and

ev ery worl d l y

consideration, had

thrown himself in

for

l i f e

or for

death with the re

formatory movement

to which

Calvin

had

devoted

his

own

magnificent

powers,

the

joy

and

the thank

fulness

to Heaven with

which the latter

welcomed

the new recruit

were

mingled

with

lively

curiosity

respecting

the

particular

work which Providence

had

reserved

for

him

to

accomplish.

As I

have

said, that work did

not

at once disclose

i t s e l f to

view.

The

enfeebled

condition of Beza, but

lately risen from a very c r i t i c a l i l l n e s s ,

did

not i n

cline him to great haste in

the

search. Thus i t was

that after a few months'

stay

in Geneva he

f u l f i l l e d

what had for years

been a strong

wish of his heart,

and made

a

journey to southern Germany to see

his

ol d

preceptor,

Melchior

Wolmar,

at

Tubingen.

P u p i l

and

teacher seem not to have met since Wol

mar made Beza

a

brief v i s i t , early in the latter's stay

at P aris, when

the

German was sent on a diplomatic

errand

by

the Duke of

Wurtemberg

to the French

court. That

was ten

years ago ; but the intensity

of

the mutual love of

Wolmar and

Beza

had suffered

no

abatement.

The

greetings

were

as

kind

and



1 5 4 9 ] Call to Lausanne 39

affectionate as could

be imagined. Yet

Beza made

no

attempt

to

carry

out

his

early

dream

of

study

and leisure in

Wolmar's neighbourhood.

I t must

be

supposed

that scholarly

idleness had lost i t s

charm for a man

who

had now

acquired

a

new

earn

estness

of purpose ; and

in the troubl ed state of

Germany at

the moment,

Beza saw

no

opportunities

beyond the Rhine

to

further the

work to which

he

had devoted his l i f e .

On

his way

back to Geneva Beza

naturally

p a s s e d

through Lausanne, the

most important

p l a ce in

what

at the

present

time

constitutes the Canton of

Vaud, one of the members of

the H elv etic

Union.

At Lausanne

he met

Pierre

Viret, himself

a nativ e

of

Orbe i n

this

d i s t r i c t ,

who

after

having

p la yed an

important part in the

reformation

of

Geneva, had

of

late

been

labouring

for

the

same

c ause

in

his

native

region. Viret recognised in Theodore Beza

the

very man whom he needed as a colleague in

the

' '

Acad6mie, or

University,

recently established at

Lausanne, and he begged him to

a c ce pt a

chair in

this institution.

The Pays

de Vaud, as i t

was

styled, had long

been

a part

of

the

dominions of

the

Duke of

S a voy.

Its

conquest

by the

Bernese

was

a

sequence

of

the

cam

p a i gn

of 1536,

in the

course of which

the

great Swiss

Canton of

Bern

sent an army of six thousand

men,

under the celebrated

Naegeli,

to the r e l i e f

of

Geneva.

Not content with having accomplished the chief

object of

their undertaking,

and

encouraged by the

absence

of the opposition which they had expected

to

meet,

the

Bernese

proceeded

to

annex

not only



40

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

the district

of

Chablais, on the

southern

side of

Lake Leman,

but

the

district

of

Gex,

and

the

greater

part of that of Vaud, on the western and northern

shores. At f i r s t

the

rich bishopric of the "

imperial

"

city

of

Lausanne was exempted from seizure. But

the

prize was

too

tempting. In a second incursion,

made only two months later in the same year, the

episcopal domain also was incorporated in the p os

sessions of

the

Canton

of

Bern.

For his

misfortune

the Bishop

of

Lausanne, Sebastian de

Montfaucon,

had only himself to blame. He had been

so

im

prudent as

to

write from

the

town

of

Fribourg,

where

he had

taken refuge, a letter inciting the

peo ple of his diocese to take up arms against the

Bernese.1

This was early i n 1536. At once the con

querors

set about consolidating their power by the

abolition

of

the

three

special

estates"

of

Lau

sanne, as well as of the estates by which Vaud

was governed,

and

by the substitution

of a

govern

ment administered through eight

b a i l i f f s set

up

at

as

many

places in

the d i s t r i c t . Asolemn conference,

or c ol loq uy,

was called

by

the Lords of Bern and

met, in October, in the cathedral

of Lausanne

dur

ing

a

number

of

s uc ces siv e d ays .

Here

were

dis

cussed

ten

theses drawn up by the Reformer, William

Farel.2 S ix commissioners of Bern

and

of Vaud

were present to hear the debate.

Four

presidents

1 D a g u e t , H i s t o i r e d e l a C o n f e d e r a t i o n S u i s s e , 3 3 2 - 3 3 4 .

8 I t was a d i s p u t a t i o n a f t e r t h e model o f t h a t h e l d a t Bern e i g h t

y e a r s b e f o r e ( J a n u a r y , 1 5 2 8 ) , i n w h i c h , i n l i k e manner, t h e r e had been

d is c us s e d t e n

t h e s e s , o r c o n c l u s i o n s , drawn

up by H a l l e r and r e v i s e d

by Z w i n g l i .

S c h a f f ,

H i s t , of t h e C h r i s t i a n

C h u r c h ,

v i i . , 1 0 4 . T he

p a r t i c u l a r t h e s e s , h o w e v e r , were

d i f f e r e n t

i n t h e two

c a s e s . .



1 5 4 9 ]

Call

to Lausanne

41

superintended

the

sessions.

Four notaries

kept

an

o f f i c i a l

record

of

the proceedings,

and

read, as

the

occasion

arose, any

cha pter of

Holy

Scripture that

might

be

called

f o r . The

discussion covered

in

general

the whole

f i e l d of controversy between

Pro

testantism and Roman

Catholicism.

I t

was carried

on

with

vigour,

but with

more

hopefulness by the

Reformers

—arel,

Viret, C al vin, and others—ha n

by

their

opponents. As

the Roman Catholics en

tered upon

the

struggle

reluctantly, their f i r s t

step

was to

submit a

protest on

the

part of

the cha pter of

the cathedral i t s e l f against any

disputation.

God

i s

not, s aid they, the author of dissension but

of

peace,

and discussion

may be

pernicious

to the particular

church, which even though

.gathered

in Christ's

name i s

liable to

f a l l

into error.

When this

protest

and

other

protests

of

a

like

kind

were

disregarded,

the

opposition instituted

was somewhat wanting in

courage, as though

the result of the

matter

were

a

foregone conclusion. Once, indeed, Jean Michodus,

" the Reverend

of

Vevey, grew

confident

when

replying to

the

Protestant view

of

the impossibility

of

justification by

works as set

forth by

Saint

Paul,

and turned upon

one of

the

champions of

the other

side,

Caroli,

formerly

a

Roman

Catholic

doctor

of

the Sorbonne, now a

professed

Protestant, although

later

he returned to his original f a i t h .

I hav e heard many good doctors a t Paris," said

h e ,

" but they did not,

l i k e you, exp l ain the third chap

t e r of Romans a s

referring t o

the deeds of the law, but

only

to

the

ceremonies.

And

you

yourself,

Monsieur




our m a ster

Caroli, I have

heard

you explain t h i s passage

otherwise

than

a s

you

expound

i t

now.

To which Caroli

could

only reply :

" Tha t I

expounded

t h i s passage

as you a s s e r t ,

I

con

f e s s .

I wa s

then

of

the

number

of the

persons

of

whom

Saint Peter speaks, those ignorant men that wrest the

Holy Scriptures, because they d o

not

understand them.

S o I

acted,

a nd

could not s a t i s f y my

own

conscience.

Then

I

s e t

myself

t o

reading

the

Scriptures

and

compar

ing

passage

with

passage, and praying

God

t o grant me

a

true i n t e l l i g e n c e .

And

God has

opened

my understand

i n g .

He

has

brought me t o the true knowledge of H is

gosp el, as you s e e . Do

not therefore marvel

i f I have

changed; but rather d o as I have done, forsake every

doctrine

not

taken from

the

Scriptures, a nd hold by

them alone." 1

There was a dramatic episode

at one point

when

the ground of

justification was

under

discussion.

Farel

called

for

the rea ding

of

the latter part of

Romans

i i i . ,

and

exclaimed

:

" You

see

how

that

i t

i s

freely, without desert,

without

the deeds

of the

law,

that a man

i s

justified ' ' Hereupon the Roman

Cath

o l i c disputant, a physician, D r.

Blancherose,

burst

out:

I do

not believe

that i t i s

so." At

once a

Bible was brought and laid before him,

not

a printed

volume

of modern

times,

whose authority

might be

questioned,

but

an ol d m a nus cri p t Bible written

on

p archment, taken from the library of the Fran.ciscan

1

T he

whole

d i s c u s s i o n i s g i v e n

a t

g r e a t

l e n g t h i n t h e

v a l u a b l e

work o f L . V u l l i e m i n , e n t i t l e d ,

L$

Qhromqueur ' . ' R e c u e i l H U-

t o r i q u e ,

3 1 3 ,

f o i l ,



1 5 4 9 ]

Call to

Lausanne

43

convent,

and he was bidden to read

the

p a s s a g e for

himself.

There

to

his

amazement

were

the

words

themselves,

and, though scarcely believing the

ev i

dence of his

senses, he

cried out:

"

I t i s

true

A

man i s

justified

by faith as the holy Apostle says

We are

not

s a v e d by works of righteousness which

we have

done,

but a cc ord ing to His mercy, God

s a ve d us " 1

The

commissioners had no

judicial

powers. They

could

only

report

the

proceedings of

the colloquy

to

the

Lords of Bern. The answer of the latter was

soon

forthcoming.

The conference ended on Sun

day,

the

8th of October; on Thursday,

the 19th,

or

only

eleven

days

l a t e r ,

the decree

was issued. By

virtue of

their

duty

not

only to govern

their

subjects

in equity and justice,

but "

to employ a l l diligence

and

force

that

these

subjects

may

live

according

to

God in

true and lively faith which produces good

works,

the

B ern es e p r oc l aim ed

their

decision to

cast down a l l

idolatries,

p a p a l ceremonies, traditions,

and ordinances of men not conformable to the Word

of

God.

In

the execution

of

this

purpose, they

ordered

a l l

their

b a i l i f f s

and

subordinate officers to

make a

personal visitation, immediately upon

the

receip t of

these

l e t t e r s , and

command

a l l priests,

deans, canons, and

other

churchmen so called at

once to desist from a l l papistical ceremonies, sac

r i f i c e s , o f f i c e s , institutions, and traditions," as they

d es ired to avoid

the

displeasure of the government.

They especially recommended them without

delay

to overthrow a l l images, i d o l s , and a l t a r s , whether

1

I b i d . ,

p .

3 2 2 .



44 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

i n church or monastery ; doing a l l this without dis

order

or

tumult.

And they

bade

a l l

these

and

their

other

subjects

to betake themselves, for the purpose

of hearing

the

Word of God, to

the

nea res t p l ac es

in which preachers

had

already

been appointed

or

should hereafter be appointed,

and

to give them

a

fa vourable audience. As to the further dispositions

respecting the so-called churchmen and church

property, the latter gave promise, with God's

help,

of

so

reasonable

and

holy

a

reformation

that God

and

the

world

shall be

well p leased." 1

Lausanne

had

not waited for the receipt of the

decision

of Bern.

No sooner was the

conference

concluded than the p eop l e, a ntic ip a ting the forth

coming decree, began in an unauthorised fashion

the

work of destruction

and

spoliation. The

beautiful

cathedral

of

Notre

Dame

was

the

f i r s t

victim

of

their

iconoclastic

zeal,

and

a church

whose erection

i s

traced

back to the early

part of

the thirteenth c en

tury s t i l l

bears testimony to

the

zeal of men

who

were resolved to

remove

every trace of

a supersti

tious

worship. Here,

as

elsewhere throughout

Vaud,

there

was

no lack of opposition ;

but the

overwhelming

influence of

the great

Canton of

Bern

everywhere

carried

the day,

and

the

whole

district

was

ultimately

brought over to

a

profession of the

Reformed doctrines.

The

immense

store

of treasures which

the

cathe

dral contained

was dispersed.2

A large

part

found

1 S e e

t h e

t e x t

i n Le C h r o n i q u e u r , 3 4 0 , 3 4 1 .

8

T he l i s t o f

g o l d

and

s i l v e r s ta t u e s, c ro ss es ,

j e w e l l e d r e l i q u a

r i e s ,

and

l i k e

p r e c i o u s

p o s s e s s i o n s

enumerated

i n

d e t a i l ,

i n




i t s

way

to Bern.

But

fortunately

the

government

of

this

sagacious

republic

saw

the propriety

of

a p p l y

ing

no inconsiderable portion of

the

ecclesiastical

property that f e l l into i t s hands to the promotion of

the

higher intellectual interests of the

region

i t s e l f .

Whether

from disinterested motives, or from

the

desire to attach their

new

subjects to them by s e l f -

interest, the Lords of Bern gave to the communes,

or s ol d to them at an insignificant price, lands here

tofore

belonging

to

churches

and

monastic

founda

tions, and we are told that the proceeds of this

property served to

form those

school and eleemosyn

ary funds which

the

Vaudois townships s t i l l

possess

at the

present day.1

Afragment

of

the

treasures,

or of the

endowment

of

the

cathedral of

Lausanne, was a p plied

to

the

establishment

of

the Academic

The

Bernese

in

the

capacity

of lords paramount had ,

in

accordance

with the

prevalent

ideas

of

the

rights and duties of

the c i v i l government,

undertaken to change

the re

ligion of the Pays de Vaud. They had taken

away

a religion that

a p p e a l e d to the senses

and

to the

imagination

of the

people, and substituted for

i t

a

religion

which

presupposed a

knowledge of the

Word

of

God

;

but

they

had

found

themselves

utterly unable

to

supply the teachers

or preachers

of

that

Word whom every place,

even to the

c h u r c h and

c h a p e l ,

i s g i v e n i n Le C h r o n i q u e u r , p a g e s 3 3 7 , 3 3 8 . I t

i s s i m p l y a s t o u n d i n g . Not

t o

s p e a k o f

P e r s i a n t a p e s t r i e s ,

o f m i s s a ls ,

and o f r e l i c s o f s a i n t s o f a v a l u e d i f f i c u l t t o e s t i m a t e , t h e r e were s i n

g l e a r t i c l e s o f p u r e g o l d w e i g h i n g f i f t e e n , t w e n t y , e i g h t y , o r more

pounds a p i e c e .

1

D a g u e t ,

3 3 4 ,

3 3 5 .




smallest village, absolutely

required in order to

p re

vent the

inhabitants

from lapsing into

a

state

of

s t i l l

more

abject ignorance

than had hitherto p re

vailed.

I t was primarily

for the purpose of

training

men for

the

pastoral o f f i c e , and

not

for that of p re

paring men

for

professional or public l i f e ,

that the

"

Acad6mie

was founded.1

Beza d id not at once undertake the duties which

he

was invited

to a s su me ,

but

returned to Geneva

and

consulted

with

his

brethren

and

especially

with

John Calvin. The c a l l was altogether unexpected,2

and

Beza was at f i r s t disposed to decline i t . Doubt

l e s s , as Professor Baum suggests,3 the state

of

his

health, not yet

altogether restored, was one chief

reason for t h i s . But i t would appear from the sequel

that

when he

thought

of deciding to go

to

Lausanne

the matter of the

recent

publication

of

his unfor

tunate

Juvenilia

weighed much

in his mind against

such a step.

But

Viret

wrote

to Calvin,

and the

latter with

other

friends

endeavoured to remove

Beza's

scruples.

The authorities of the

Canton of

Bern,

adopting

the

action of

the

Academy of Lau

sanne, extended

a

formal but

flattering

invitation.

To

this

Beza f e l t himself no longer at liberty t o . turn

a

deaf

ear. It

i s

characteristic

of

the

man,

however,

and

the

circumstance throws

a

bright

light upon the

sincerity

of his character and

the

thoroughness of

his c onv ers ion, tha t before he consented to be i n -

1 Le C h r o n i q u e u r , 3 5 9 .

2

B e z a ' s d e d i c a t o r y l e t t e r

t o

Wolmar. S o ^ t o o , i n h i s l e t t e r

t o

And. D u d i t h i u s , below r e f e r r e d t o . Baum, i . , 1 3 1 .

8

V o l .

i . ,

1 2 0 ,




ducted

into

the o f f i c e of

a

teacher

of sacred as well

as

secular

learning

to

whom

the

interests

of

the

young were entrusted,

he

was foremost in calling

the

attention of

the

ecclesiastical

council which,

as

the manner of

the

Reformed

Churches was,

met to

inquire

into his p a st l i f e and

into

his doctrinal be

l i e f , to

the

great error of his

youth.

"

Of

my

own

accord,"

he writes a t

a l a t e r

time, " I

made

mention

of

the

E pi gr a m s

I

ha d

published,

l e s t

p er

chance the matter m ig ht be t o

the

damage of

the

Church,

because there were among them some of an amatory

character and certainly now and then written with too

much

l i c e n s e ,

that

i s , i n imitation

of

the ancient poets.

I t

pleased the assembly of the brethren that nevertheless

I

should

assume that function i n the Church, i n the f i r s t

place

because

i t seemed

plainly unjust that

i n

the case

of

a

person

who

ha d

p a ss ed ov er

t o

Christ

from

the

P a p a l

r e l i g i o n , j u s t

a s from

paganism,

there

should

be imputed

t o

him the error

i n

question

i n

a l i f e otherwise

honour

able and

blameless,

and

i n the

second

place,

because I

voluntarily pledged myself t o make i t publicly known to

a l l men how greatly

that

inconsiderate

act

of mine dis

pleased

me, " 1

On

assuming

his

o f f i c e ,

Beza

took

an

oath

declar

ing

his hearty a p p rov a l

of

a l l the decrees

of

the

disputation held at Bern in 1 5 28 respecting the

Christian

religion,

and promised,

on

pain of God's

anger, to conform his l i f e and teaching thereto."

1 " E p i s t o l a d e d i c a t o r i a ad And.

Dudithium," Ma y

1 4 , 1 5 6 9 , p r e

f ix e d t o t h e s e c o n d e d i t i o n o f t h e f u v e n i l i a ,

apud

Baum, i . , 1 3 1 .

* The o a t h i n Baum,

i . ,

1 3 2 .



48 Theodore Beza Osiq-

Thus began the

course

of a brilliant and fruitful

professorship extending over a period of nine years

—5 4 9 - 1 5 5 8 . The work was congenial.

All

his

p ast studies had p r e p are d Theodore Beza for a

thorough discharge of i t s duties. Greek was his

favourite tongue. Its direct bearing upon

the p re

paration for

the

Christian ministry of

the

youth

that were drawn to his class-room by the repu ta tion

of his learning, procured him peculiar gratification.

There

had

been

a

time

when

secular

learning

pursued

for i t s

own

sake satisfied his highest aspirations;

now he

could

not be happy without the conviction

that, in the professor's chair, he was rendering no

l e s s important

a

serv ice to

the

advancement of re

ligion than he would have rendered in

the

pulpit

devoting his entire time to the work of a po pu l ar

preacher.

Thus

i t was that his labour became

from

the very start a l abour

of

love.

Apart from

the in

spiration

created by

contact with bright

minds

among

his pupils,

there

was also

the friendly

inter

course with his eminent

colleagues

and

the

growing

intimacy

with

scholars

and

theologians

eminent for

their

attainments residing in

neighbouring

c i t i e s ,

men already well known

to

him by

reputation,

but

now

beginning

to

be

familiar

to

him

through

p er

sonal

relations

or by correspondence

—o small com

pensation to

his mind

1

for

the

losses

he

had sustained

i n forsaking home and

native

land

—en like

Bullin-

ger,

Musculus,

and Haller,

not

to

speak

of

Cal vin

himself and

Viret.

We should

have known,

even

had not

Beza him-

1 S e e Heppe, 2 4 .



1 5 5 o ] Abraham's Sacrifice 49

s e l f expressly

told us,

that

i t was

this thought

and

the

analogy

of

the

patriarch

who,

at

the

bidding

of

Jehovah, l e f t the

land

of

his

nativity not knowing

whither

he

went, that chiefly

influenced

Beza i n

the

choice of

the

subject of the f i r s t

poetical production

that he brought

out

after his conversion. He had

not been

quite a year at Lausanne

when he

gave to

the

world

a

sacred

tragedy,

under

the

t i t l e of

Abra

ham's Sacrifice.

In the

preface

he introduced

i t

with

these

words

(dated

Lausanne,

the

1st

of

Octo

ber,

1550):

" I admit that by nature I have always delighted i n

poetry, a nd I

cannot yet repent of

i t ;

but much

d o I r e

gret

t o

have

employed

the slender g i f t s

with which

God

has endowed me i n t h i s

regard,

upon things of which the

mere

recollection a t present

makes

me blush. I

have

therefore

given

myself

t o

such

matters

as

are

more

holy,

hoping to continue

therein

hereafter." 1

The

drama

was written

originally for

the use of

the students,

and

was

f i r s t performed

by them

in

one of

the halls

of

the

former

officiality,"

or

seat

of

the

judge representing

the

late Bishop of Lau

sanne

in the t r i a l of

ecclesiastical

cases. So favour

able

was

i t s

reception

by

the

public,

that

i t

was

repeatedly brought on

the

boards.

From

Lausanne

i t p a s se d to other places

not

only in Switzerland,

but

in France, where i t

was

played with great

ap

plause in many c i t i e s . I t

was

also translated into

foreign

tongues. The famous President Etienne

Pasquier, while he i s certainly mistaken in the date

1

P r e f a c e

t o

"

Le

S a c r i f i c e

d '

Abraham,"

i n

Baum,

i . ,

7 4 ,

n o t e .



5o

Theodore

Beza t « s i $ -

and

occasion to

which he ascribes

the

work, i s

a

witness

whose

testimony cannot be challenged

to

the

impression i t made upon himself: Theodore

Beza,

a

fine poet, both

Latin

and French, com

posed, on the

accession

of

King

Henry

[the

Second],

the

Sacrifice

of

Abraham in

French

verse,

so

well

portrayed to the l i f e , that, as I read i t i n former

days, tears flowed from my eyes." 1 The most

pathetic p a s s a g e i s natura l ly that which culminates

i n

the

l a s t

dialogue

between

the

patriarch

and his

s on as

the

latter i s about to be sacrificed. Amodern

French c r i t i c

of

high

standing

may here be allowed

to speak, esp ec ially as he institutes a favourable

comparison between Beza's work and that of

the

great Racine himself, which might be esteemed

p re

sumptuous

i f instituted by a

foreigner.

In analysing

the

latter part of the

drama,

A.

Sayous,

in

his

Etudes

Litteraires,

observes upon the

p a s s a ge

where

Abra

ham turns to immolate Isaac, that

"

here

begins a

scene that a m p l y

j u s t i f i e s

Pasquier's

t e a r s . I t

i s

conducted

with

singular

a r t .

The emotion

grows from the

beginning

t o the end—he denouement

naturally suspended

a nd

the father's anguish

prolonged

by the

young

son's questions, the

tears of

Isaac, h i s

childish

prayer,

h i s

thought

of h i s

mother,

and h i s a r t

l e s s resignation—l l

t h i s i s of a truthfulness

that

sur

passes i n pathos the scenes i n the French I p h i g e ' n i e ,

between

Agamemnon

a nd

h i s daughter."

In which bold advocacy of

the

composition of

the

French Reformer, the acute c r i t i c f o r t i f i e s himself

1 E t i e n n e P a s q u i e r , L e s

R i c h e r c h e s

d e l a F i a n c e , 6 1 5 .



i s 5 o ] Abraham's Sacrifice " 5 1

by

citing the

German poet Chamisso " who

pushed

his

admiration

so

far

as

to

compare

the

dialogue

between Isaac and

Abraham

to

the

most

divine

productions

of

the Greeks."

1

1 J l t u d e s L i t i e ' r a i r e s , i . , 2 6 6 . . S a y o u s r e g a r d s—and h e i s p r o b a b l y

r i g h t , from a p u r e l y l i t e r a r y p o i n t o f v i e w—t h e S a < r i f i c e of Abra

ham a s t h e b e s t o f a l l B e z a ' s French p o e m s , a s s i g n i n g t o i t a p l a c e

f a r i n a d v a n c e o f h i s m e t r i c a l t r a n s l a t i o n s o f t h e P s a l m s o f D a v i d .

These l a s t were begun d u r i n g B e z a ' s r e s id e n c e a t Lausanne and

might

b e a p p r o p r i a t e l y

t r e a t e d

h e r e .

I

p r e f e r , h o w e v e r , t o g i v e

them

a

s e p a r a t e

c o n s i d e r a t i o n

f a r t h e r o n ,

i n

a c h a p t e r

on

Theodore

Beza and

t h e

Huguenot P s a l t e r .



CHAPTER

IV

TREATISE ON THE PUNISHMENT OF HERETICS

ITH

l i t t l e

pleasure

we

turn from

the f i r s t

V V of

the

poetical compositions written after

Theodore

Beza's conversion, to the

f i r s t of his

graver and

more

important

writings

in prose.

Abundant

attention was

given

in a previous chap

ter to

the youthful

error of Beza

into which he f e l l

before he broke with his ol d thoughts and purposes

i n l i f e , a n

error

at

a later time

not merely deplored,

but heartily repented o f , candidly confessed, and

publicly condemned by him to

the

end of his

days.

I must now

s p e a k of a n act of his more

mature

l i f e

which our later a ge must regard

as

most reprehens

i b l e , an

act

for which not only did he

never express

repentance,

but

which

he

continued

to

justify

as

proper

and

righteous throughout

a f u l l

half-century,

or to the very

time

of his death, with an unshaken

conviction that he was in

the

right. I

refer

to his

public advocacy of

the

tenet, then held

by the

vast

majority of educated

and

religious men,

but now as

universally repudiated, that

heretics,

and especially

outrageous

blasphemers, may and ought

to

be

1 5 5 4



1 5 5 4 ] The Punishment of Heretics 53

punished by

the

c i v i l

authorities,

even capitally.

In

1 5 5 4

Beza

f i r s t

published

his

treatise

"

Concern

ing

the

duty of punishing heretics by

the

c i v i l

magistrate :

in answer

to

the medley of

Martin

Bel-

l i u s and the sect of the new Academics " (" De

haereticis

a

c i v i l i magistratu puniendis, adversus

Martini

B e l l i i

farraginem,et novorum Academicorum

sectam").

The controversy arose from the execution of the

S p a n i s h

physician Michael Servetus,

burnt

alive at

the stake on the h i l l

of Champel,

at

Geneva,

on the

27th of October, 1553.

The

main facts i n

the

case are incontrovertible

and are so familiar to a l l readers of history, that

the

barest reminder i s necessary

in

this place. Having

been apprehended at

Vienne, near Lyons,

Servetus

e s c a p e d

from

the

hands

of

the

Roman

Catholic

judges

by a

secret

f l i g h t , and i n his absence was

condemned, as

a heretic

and

a fugitive,

to

a

death

by slow f i r e . But he

had

a voided one danger only

to f a l l into another equally appalling.

Discovered

in the city

of Geneva

by

John Calvin, and by

him

denounced

to the c i v i l

authorities,

he was again

t r i e d ,

found guilty,

and

sentenced to

the

same

punishment.

Calvin

had

long

since

forewarned

Servetus of the

peril

he

would incur by coming to

Geneva. He now

openly

advocated

his being

p ut

to

death.

It i s the great blot

upon

his name. I t i s

the

one great

error

of his

l i f e which ha s giv en oc ca

sion

to

his enemies and

the adversaries

of

the Pro

testant faith to blaspheme. And this i s none the

less

true

i f

we concede,

as

we

must

concede,

that




his

fault

was

the fault of the

great

majority of

his

contemporaries,

even

the

most

pious

and

excellent,

who with him held the pestilent d oc trine tha t sins

against God, transgressions against the f i r s t table of

the

law,

may be punished, even capitally, by the

c i v i l magistrate.

I t

i s

not that, according

to

the

po pular impression, John Cal vin burned Servetus;

f o r , in point of f a c t , so far from burning him, he

opposed this mode of execution as cruel;

but

that

he,

with

his intellect of

the

highest

order

and

with

a

heart which we know otherwise to have been kindly,

had

not

enfranchised

himself from

ol d and traditional

theories

of

the province

of

the secular power,

and

as

a Christian

knew not

what

s p i r i t he

was of; indeed,

that he seemed to have receded from

his

own tolerant

expressions in the earliest edition of his Institutes,

wherein

he

asserted,

respecting

our

treatment

of

the

excommunicated, that we

should

l i v e with

them

as

wi th T u rks ,

Saracens,

and other enemies of religion,

striving, meanwhile,

in

every possible manner,

whether

by exhortation and

by

teaching, or by

mildness and gentleness, or by

prayers to God,

to

induce them to turn to

the

better

way

and

the

so

ciety

of

the faithful.

To

cruelty

i n

the

putting

of

men out

of

the

world,

the men

of

the sixteenth

century were,

unfortun

ately,

pretty

well used. The estrapade, in the

neighbouring

kingdom

of France, had had i t s host of

victims, and the estrapade, ingeniously contrived to

prolong the

tortures of

the

dying

victim,

by altern

ately lowering him

into

the flames and hoisting

him out,

in preparation for

a

new

exposure

to

the



1 5 5 4 ] The Punishment of Heretics

55

f i r e , was, to

sa y the l e a s t , quite

as cruel as

the

ordinary

execution

at

the

stake.

I t

was

therefore

not so

much

the

cruelty

of the

means

used

to

p ut

Servetus to death, as the inconsistency of the Re

formers

in resorting to violence to suppress heresy,

that

shocked many

contemporaries, as

i t

shocks u s .

Among

those that entered

a

p rotes t a ga ins t

the

principle involved in the execution

of

Servetus,

was

a writer who signed himself Martin Bellius, but

whose

true

name

was

sus pected

by

Beza

of

being

Sebastian

Chasteillon, or

Castalio.1 I t

was

in answer

to his treatise that Beza wrote.

Castalio, i f

indeed

i t

was he, had

given to

his

small

volume,

now

become

extremely r a r e , 2 the form

of a n inquiry into the question, Whether heretics

ought

to be

proceeded

against, or

persecuted, and,

i n

general,

how

they

should

be

dealt

with."

I t

c laimed to be a book of

the

utmost necessity in

this

most

turbulent time," and

was

made

up

of a

collection

of

the sentiments

of

the l ea rned

in

ancient

and in

modern times. To u s ,

as

we shall

see

p re

sently, the chief interest centres i n the remarkable

dedicatory letter which

the

author prefixed to i t .

Castalio

was a

very

erudite man,

whose most note

worthy

production

was

a

new

translation of

the

Bible

into the

Latin language,

the

result of

the

labours of ten years. In this he strove, while often

1 For a b r i e f d i s c u s s i o n

o f

t h e

a u t h o r s h i p

o f t h i s t r e a t i s e , s e e

S c h a f f ,

Church

H i s t o r y , v i i . ,

7 9 4 ,

e t c . P r o f . Ferdinand

B u i s s o n , o f

N e u f c h a t e l , h a s t r e a t e d t h e m a t t e r a t g r e a t e r l e n g t h i n h i s S S a s t i e n

C a s t c l l i o n

( P a r i s ,

2

v o l s . , 1 8 9 2 ) .

B o n n e t ,

" S e b a s t i e n C a s t a l i o n , o u La T o l e r a n c e a u S e i z i e m e

S i e c l e , " i n B u l l e t i n , v o l . x v i . ( 1 S 6 7 ) . S e e e s p e c i a l l y p . 5 3 0 , ,



56

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

making a slight sacrifice of the l i t e r a l form, to give

to

the

Holy

Scriptures

a

clearness

and

an

elegance

of expression that would commend them to a wider

c i r c l e of readers, and

enable

them to

sup p la nt p ro

fane

writings

in the

schools.

I t

i s no impeachment

of his good intentions, o r , indeed, of his scholarship,

to admit that his Bible won no such

place

as was

anticipated

for

i t by

i t s author. Yet

Castalio

was

no

contemptible

exegete.

I f the scholarly reader

will

ta ke the

trouble

to

run

through

the

p a g e s

of

the

lengthy treatise in

which

Beza reviews

some of the

pa ssages

translated in

his

own Latin version of

the New Testament, and to compare them with the

same

pa ssages as

rendered by

Castalio,

he

will

con

v i nc e him s el f of t h i s . For i f he find Beza's judgment

i n

the

great

majority

of

cases

to

be

more sound

than

that

of

his

opponent,

yet

will

he

discover others

where the latter shows himself superior. Thus

Beza's

interpretation of Heb. v . , 7 , i n which he

co

incides

with Calvin,

i s

forced and undoubtedly erron

eous, while that of Castalio i s endorsed by the latest

and best of recent scholars, and i s certainly correct.1

As a

teacher

and

successor of the

famous Mathurin

Corderius, Castalio

had

worthily

discharged

the

duties

of

his

o f f i c e

in

the

college

of

Geneva, u n t i l ,

in consequence

of differences of

opinion

between

himself and his ol d

friend Calvin, he

voluntarily re

tired, and took up his abode f i r s t at Lausanne and

then at Basel. Here he spent

the

rest of his days

1 S e e " R e s p o n s i o ad

d e f e n s i o n e s

e t r e p r e h e n s i o n e s S e b a s t i a n i C a s -

t e l l i o n i s ,

q u i b u s suam

Novi T e s t a m e n t i i n t e r p r e t a t i o n e m d e f e n d e r e

a d v e r s u s Bezam e t

e j u s

v e r s i o n e m v i c i s s i m r e p r e h e n d e r e c o n a t u s

e s t "

( p u b l i s h e d

f i r s t

i n

1 5 6 3 ) .

I n

T r a c t ,

T k e o l . ,

i . ,

4 9 7 .




i n a n

honourable

but painful s trug gl e a ga ins t pov

erty.

History

ha s

in

our

own

times

vindicated

his

claim

to be

classed among

the f i r s t

and noblest as-

sertors

of

the

rights of the human conscience. The

letter to

the

Duke of Wiirtemberg

which "

Martin

Bellius

" prefixed to

his book on

the treatment of

heretics,

and

in

which he fully

sets

forth his views,

ha s

been justly styled

one of

the purest

inspira

tions of

the century," one

of

those beneficent

revelations

that

console

for

the excesses

of

another

age,"

in which i t s

author proclaims, with

rare

eloquence, a

truth so novel

that

i t

was to

scandalise

contemporaries—

he

right of every man to bel iev e

freely

and to

assert

his b e l i e f ,

remaining responsible

for his errors only before God. 1 A few sentences

describing

the

state

of

Christendom may

suffice

to

convey

a notion

of

i t s

s p i r i t

:

" Nobody

c an stand

the s l i g h t e s t

contradiction, and,

although there

are

to-day

nearly

as many opinions as

there are men, there i s not

one

sect that does not

con

demn

the

others; hence

e x i l e s ,

chains,

f i r e s , the gallows,

a nd that lamentable array of punishments f o r the simple

crime

of holding

views

displeasing

t o

the

powerful

of

the

e a r t h , on

questions

i n dispute for

centuries

a nd s t i l l

unsettled."

"

I

have

long

been

seeking

t o

find

out

what

a heretic i s ,

and here

i s

what

I have discovered:

he i s a man that thinks otherwise than we do respecting

religion." " I ask you, Who would wish t o be a Christ

i a n , when

he sees men that lay claim t o that designation

dragged t o

execution

and

treated

more cruelly than we

t r e a t thieves a nd robbers ?

Who

would

not

believe t h a t

1 B o n n e t , u b i s u p r a , x v i . , 5 4 4 .



58 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i ^ -

Christ

i s

a

Moloch

or some

p i t i l e s s divinity demanding

human

s a c r i f i c e s

upon

h i s a l t a r s

?

"

1

It i s deplorable to

see a

man

of

the

intellect of

Beza, through the long course

of a

treatise which,

in

the edition of his collected

theological

works,

f i l l s

not

less than

eighty-five

closely

printed folio

pages,

labouring to overthrow

the

arguments, for the most

part

clear

and cogent, by means of which Castalio

and

others, doubtless otherwise

his

inferiors i n

dialectic s k i l l , but on this question s peaking from

the

fulness of

conviction,

had

built

up a structure

which in our eyes

at

least i s

impregnable.

I t

i s

not

the

only case in which , looking back from a consider

able distance of time

upon a

p a st conflict of arms,

we cannot divest

ourselves of

the c onv ic tion that

there ha s been

some

frightful

mistake, and

that, from

their

character,

from

their

antecedents,

from

the

community of

their

great aims,

the

combatants

ought

to have been fighting, not

as

enemies, but

as

friends, i n

order

to

conserve and

not to

tear down,

making

a

common front against common foes. Nor,

perhaps, i s i t an unwarrantable

surmise

that

the

strong personal

friendship

in which he held Calvin,

and

the

ardent desire to

vindicate the p r op riety of

Calvin's

course,

added

unconsciously

to

the

virulence

with

which Theodore Beza treated both

the memory

of Servetus himself and the man who called in ques

tion the justice

of

the punishment

of

Servetus. As

for that

heretic, he

i s to Beza, I may remark, of a l l

men

that

have hitherto lived the

most

impious and

1

P a s s a g e s

q u o t e d

i n

B u l l e t i n ,

x v i . , 5 4 2 - 5 4 4 , and

i n

Haag,

L a ,

Frame

P r o t e s t m t e ^

s ,

v .

C A a i e i l l o n ,

i v , ,

1 3 0 ,

1 3 1 ,



1 5 5 4 ]

The

Punishment of Heretics 59

blasphemous, while the men who have condemned

his

t r i a l

as

iniquitous,

are

for him

the

"

emissaries

of

Satan. 1

Castalio and his

a l l i e s ,

according to Beza,

took

three positions, each of which they defended by a

variety of arguments.

The

f i r s t was, That heretics

ought

not to

be

punished. The

second was, That

heretics

cannot justly be punished by the c i v i l

magistrate. The third was, That heretics should

not

be

punished

with

death. In

order

to

p ro ve

that

heretics should not be punished,

they

alleged that

the matters in controversy

are

not

as

yet

necessary

to be known, nor c an they be known s a ve by

the

pure

in

heart, nor, i f known, would they

make

men

better

;

that

they cannot

be

decided by

God's

written

Word. They

argued from the examples

of

Judas

Maccabeus

and

of

Moses,

from

the authority

of

Gamaliel and Paul,

from the Scriptural

description

of Charity, from the mildness and gentleness that

should characterise a l l Christians. They asserted

that

no

class of men are l e s s to be feared than are

heretics. They brought up instances

of Christ's

clemency

and benignity. They showed that

the

c i v i l

magistrate

leaves

unpunished

much greater

offenders

—

urks,

Jews,

the

proud,

the

avaricious,

and the

l i k e . They

boldly

claimed that.

i n point of

fact

no one

c a n

be

compelled to

believe, and

there

fore the attempt ought not to be made to compel

men

to believe.

They proved

that,

i f to

be

punished at

a l l , the

1

"

D e

h o e r e t i c i s

a c i v .

mag.

p u n i e n d i s . " T r a c t a t i o n e s

T h c o l o -

g i c a ,

i . ,

8 5 .



6o Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

punishment of heretics

does

not belong to the c i v i l

magistrate,

by

our

Lord's

own

assertion

that

His

kingdom i s not

of

this world,

and

by

that of Saint

P au l that the weapons of our warfare are not carnal.

Theologians, they said,

c a n

defend their

doctrine,

as do

the

professors of

the other

sciences, without

a

recourse t o . the

magistrate. They

used Christ

and

His apostles as examples. They

did not

f orget to

notice

that

the world i s

incompetent to

judge of

heresy,

and

that

most

princes

abuse

their

authority

in

this as in other things.

They

fortified them

selves

with

evidence

drawn from

the practice

of

the

ancient Church.

As to

the

third

head,

they made effective

use

of

the Parable

of

the Tares

and

the command to l e t

the

tares

grow until

the

harvest. To permit

the

magistrate

to

k i l l

the

heretic

i s ,

said

they,

to

p er

mit him to exerc is e

God's prerogative of killing the

soul. I f

heretics

a r e . to be s l a i n ,

then

the greater

part of mankind should be p ut to death. S aint P a u l

bids us avoid,"

not "

kill,"

the heretic,

and en

joins u s , Judge nothing bef ore the time." The

fear

of death makes men

hypocrites.

Many are

the

instances

where

such punishment

ha s

resulted

very

badly.

By

the

Church

under

the

Emperors

the

l i f e

of even such

an

arch-heretic as Arius

was

spared.

Such were, according to Beza, the arguments,

often crudely stated, by which t he f orerunners of

that tolerance

which ha s

become

the l a w

of

our

higher civilisation undertook

to

establish

principles

which for us have become axiomatic truths. As his

toric evidence of human

progress

they deserve a p l a ce



1 5 5 4 ] The

Punishment

of

Heretics

6 1

here.

Nor

would i t be altogether uninteresting to

note in

detail the answers by

which

Beza

attempts

to break the force of the arguments of his oppon

ents. But

more important

i s i t

to examine

the

grounds

on which he undertakes a ff irm ativ el y to

establish

his

own

allegations.

' ' Heretics

are

t o be

punished.

' ' By

heretics

are

not

meant unbelievers, like Jews

and

Turks; nor

men

of blameworthy l i v e s , like

thieves and

murderers;

nor

men

that

err

from

the

truth

through

sheer

s im

plicity and ignorance

; but

su ch

persons

as lay claim

to be called the faithful, and, having been l e g i t i

mately convicted

from God's Word,

yet,

following

their own judgment, so

pertinaciously and

resolutely

defend certain false doctrines against the Church, as

not to hesitate by their factions to rend the Church's

p e a ce

and concord. That

su ch

men ought

to

be

punished,

no

one

—o

my

knowledge

at

l e a s t ,

—

says

Beza, ha s been found thus far to c a l l in ques

tion, with the exception of these new Academics. 1

They are

the

greatest pests of

the

Church, true i n

struments

of the

devil for i t s destruction.

The

great

part of

men live

far from exemplary

l i v e s ,

and are

exposed

to

the violent

assaults of

the external

foes

of

the

Church

;

but

so

long

as

Doctrine

remains

s a f e ,

i t a p p e ar s

as

a brilliant constellation, a Cynosure by

whose

rays

the pious

may hold

their course

in

the

midst of

the tempests.

But

when

Doctrine

i t s e l f i s

so corrupted that the devil lurks

beneath

i t , what

rem ains but that very many will embrace the devil

jn

p l a ce of God ? What

but

that very many, aban-

• I b i d . , i „

1 4 3 .



62

Theodore Beza

[ i 5 i 9 -

doning the hope of knowing the truth, will cast

from them a l l

religion,

and, in f i n e , there will arise

a

horrible confusion in the

Church of

God ? The

evil i s most grave when Satan has transformed him

s e l f and attacks

the

very

vitals

of

the

Church.

Then

the most prompt, the

sharpest,

of remedies i s called

f o r . So far

from

having

no

obligation to

keep within

bounds

the

spreading cancer, i t may

be necessary,

i n order to s a ve

the rest

of

the body,

for

men

to

resort

to

cautery

and

knife.

This

i s

shown

by

the

testimony of

God's

Word. Not to s p e a k of laws

against

blasphemers and false prophets, or

of

the

acts of Moses, As a , and Josiah, he that will not hea r

the

Church, we

are told, i s to

be

regarded as a

Gentile and a

publican. I f this was said

of

one who

had committed a

private

wrong, much more

ought

i t to hold good i n the

case

of one who plucks up

religious

Doctrine

i t s e l f .

Thus

did

the

apostles

give

over

to

S a t a n the

heretics

Philetus and Hy-

menaeus. The conclusion of the whole matter i s ,

therefore, that

"

those who

think

that heretics

ought not

t o be pun

ished, are

attempting t o

introduce

into

the Church

of

God the

most

pestilent of a l l opinions, a

view that con

f l i c t s

with

the

doctrine

f i r s t

given

by

God

the Father,

subsequently renewed by C h r i s t , a nd f i n a l l y practised by

the universal orthodox Church by perpetual consent."

"

S o that t o me,

indeed,"

observes Beza ,

"

such men

a p p ear t o act more absurdl y than i f

they

were t o deny

that

sacrilegious

persons or

parricides ought t o be

pun

ished; since heretics are i n f i n i t e l y worse than a l l such

criminals. For which reason I s h a l l not employ more




words t o prove t h i s part of the question, which I am

confident

that a l l who

are not altogether

unjust judges

w i l l

concede t o me.

1

I f heretics, then,

should

be punished,

by

whom

may

punishment be

inflicted

? "

They

are t o be

punished by the civil

magistrate,"

Beza replies. The

chief end

of human society i s that God

may receive

the honour which men

are

bound

to pay

Him.

Now, the c i v i l magistrate i s the appointed guardian

and

governor

of

human

society.

He

ought

therefore

i n

the administration

of

the

a f f a i r s of human society

to

ta ke the

greatest

account of this i t s

chief

end. I t

i s his duty

indeed,

so f a r as i n him l i e s , to

see

that no

discord shall

intervene

in

the

dealings of

the citizens

with one another; but since i t

i s

not the

ultimate

and chief end of human soc iety tha t men should

l i v e together i n peace,

but

rather that, living i n

peace,

they

should worship God, i t i s the duty

of

the

magistrate, even at

the

cost of external peace,

i f i t cannot be done otherwise, to secure

the

true

worship of God throughout the extent of his juris

diction. So far i s i t

from

being his duty to a bs ta in

from

exercising solicitude for religion. But

he c a n

not conserve religion unless he coerces the pertina

cious

and

factious

despisers

of

religion

by

the

sword

{jure gladii). I t remains, that whoever undertakes

to

divorce the

magistrate from religion either does

not

know

what i s the

true end of human

society, or

conceals what

he

knows perfectly well.

The ex

terior

discipline

of the

Church must be

entrusted

to one

of the

two—ither to the c i v i l

magistrate or

1 I b i d . , u b i s u p r a .



64

Theodore .Beza f 1 5 i 9 -

to the ministers

of

the Church—therwise there

i s

anarchy. I t cannot

be

entrusted to the l a t t e r , else

there

would

be

a

c on f us ed m in gl in g

of

the

power of

the sword and

that

of the keys. It must therefore

be entrusted to the

former. To illustrate:

An

Anabaptist i s denounced. The

body of presbyters

assembles. He i s summoned, but a ns wers that he

will

have

nothing to do with sinners. How does

the

Church act

? I f i t

acts

according to God's

Word,

when

the

unhappy

man cannot

be

corrected

in

any other

way,

i t delivers him unto

Satan,

that

he

may

learn not

to blaspheme. He, on

the

other

hand, willingly and of his own accord, separates

himself from the Church. Other fanatics

follow

him

and

so

a defection a r i s e s .

Next

some disciple of

Servetus or Osiander will

come

forward. On being

summoned,

he will present himself, but i t will be

to

judge

the

Church.

Being

cast

out,

he

too

will

find

disciples, and hence

another

faction. At length

some Academic, an excellent and modest man,

forsooth, will

make

his a p pearance.

When sum

moned,

he

will come

and

will state, by way

of

p re

amble,

that

he i s eager to learn, and that he reads

and hea rs e v erything . I f

you undertake to

teach

him, however, he p r ay s

that

no

violence

be done to

his conscience. I f you i n s i s t and expose his im

pudence in

corrupting

the Scriptures,

quite unlike

the

ol d

philosophers of the Academy, who used to

assert that

the

only

thing

they

knew was

that they

knew nothing, he will

t e l l

you that

no one

knows

anything but himself, and yet he will p rotes t tha t

he

condemns nobody. I f he

c a n find

any means of




so doing, he, too, on being ejected from the Church,

will

set

up

another

conventicle.

What

shall

the

Church

do in these

circumstances ? Cry unto

the

Lord, you say. Yes,

and

despite Satan' s vain

op

position,

the Church will be

saved. But

the hungry

man cries and does

not

wait to

be

fed by

an angel

as was Elijah. The bread

that

i s given him or

that

he seeks to obtain by his industry he regards as

provided

for

him by God.

Suppose that

there be

i n

the

Church

a

Christian magistrate.

Must he,

who

will

not

.tolerate

the

dissensions of

the citizens

i n

profane matters, remain quiet when

the

great end

for which human society was instituted i s in ques

tion ? Or,

are

those rather

to

whom the power

of

the sword i s not entrusted, to

be

permitted to take

upon

them

to exerc ise coercion ? Who

does

not

see that

i f

t he m inis try

thus

intrude

on

the

o f f i c e

of

the magistrate, as the Roman Antichrist ha s d one,

there

i s

the

greatest

danger of dire confusion

as

the

result of commingling what God Himself ha s made

distinct

?

Then, again, i f

the

pastors,

the

shepherds

of the flock,

become

transformed into

wolves, what

i s to be done ? You will say, Let a Council be con

vened and l e t i t compel

the submission

of

the

unruly.

But

who

shall

summon

the

Council,

especially

the

Universal

Council, i f not the c i v i l

magistrate

? For

the

apostle's prescription remains fixed, Let every

soul be subject to

the

higher powers.1

All t h i s , says

Beza, i s

confirmed by the

authority

of

the

Word of God—nd here he cites a

multitude

of pa ssages of the

Old Testament and of

the

New

—

1

I b i d . ,

i . ,

1 4 3 - 1 4 5 .

5



66 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i 9 -

and by

the

opinions of

the

learned men

of

more

modern

times

—

uther,

Melanchthon,

Bucer,

and

the l i k e . 1

Heretics are occasionally t o be coerced

even by

c a pi

tal punishment. The right of the m agis tra te to

punish

heretics being once

proven,

as

Beza

believed

that he

had

proved i t , he

found l i t t l e

difficulty

i n

the matter of the amount

or

severity

of

the p u nis h

ment.

The

gravity of

the

crime of

heresy

i s

the

f i r s t

and

chief

ground

for

the

infliction

of

the

penalty

of death. Inasmuch as

the purpose of the l a w

i s to

deter

men from sin by the example

of

the punishment

meted

out to the

wrong-doer, i t i s

right

that

the

judge should take great account of humanity.

Thus

i t happens that one

and

the same offence i s visited

i n

the

same

region, now with

a

more

severe,

now

with

a

milder

sentence.

But

there

are

some

crimes

which, because of their enormity, are

punished,

among a l l

rac es of men above

the

rank

of savages,

not indeed by one particular

kind of execution,

but

yet

universally by some

form

of death. Such are

parricide, voluntary

homicide,

sacrilege, blasphemy,

impiety,

or

the violation of the

publicly

received

religion,

and other

crimes

of

the

s o r t .

The

case i s

clear enough

as

far

as parricide,

v olunt ary homi c ide ,

and sacrilege are concerned. I t i s surprising that

anybody

should

entertain doubts respecting blas

phemy and impiety ; for

nobody c a n

deny that

the

magnitude

of

a crime i s

to be measured by the

quality of the person against whom the offence i s

committed.

Blasphemy and impiety, by which

1

I b i d . ,

1 4 5 - 1 5 0 .



1 5 5 4 ] The Punishment of Heretics 6 }

God's

majesty i s attacked,

are,

therefore, so much

the greater crimes as His glory excels the dignity of

men. Not

that

a l l blasphemers and impious per-

^ sons indiscriminately

are to

be punished, but only

> those that act willingly and knowingly. Those that

are without

the

Church must

be

l e f t to God,

who

will judge them

or

i n

His own

time enlighten them.

But

those

that are

within the

Church

must be ad

monished, f i r s t , privately, then

before a

greater

number,

possibly

dealt

with

more

sharply.

But

i f

to

blasphemy

and impiety there be added heresy,

that i s , a stubborn contempt of

the Word

of God

and of Church discipline, and i f a mad fury for cor

rupting others

also ha s taken

possession of

them,

what

greater or

more flagitious crime c a n arise

among men ? I f , then, the mode of punishment

ought

to be regulated according

to

the greatness

of

the

crime,

i t

would seem

that

no

adequate

penalty

c a n be found for this heinous enormity. A man

who slays another, or commits any

other

crime

against his

neighbour,

attacks

the commonwealth,

yet

so as that some estimate

c a n be made of the

injury; but he that

publicly

opens the way for

the

corruption of God's true

worship, starts

a conflagra

tion which possibly shall scarcely be extinguished

by the everlasting destruction of a n infinite number

of men. Whether to vindicate

the

glory of

God

or

to

preserve

human society, therefore, there are

no

men whom the

magistrate

ought

to

punish more

severely than heretical blasphemers.1

Such , briefly stated, were Beza's arguments. He

*

I b i d . ,

i . ,

1 5 1 ,

f o i l .



68 Theodore Beza [ I 5 i 9 ~

found them

to

be in

f u l l

accord

with

the

precepts

given by the Lord

in

the

Old Testament

to slay

without pity the introducer

of strange

gods, the

false

p rop het, the blasphemer, and the profaner of

the Sabbath.

Such

commands, he

said,

have never

been repealed. The Mosaic Law remains in force,

with

the exception

of

the

ceremonial part. Of

the

other

two divisions,

the Decalogue

or Moral Law,

being a n accurate

transcript

of

the Natural

Law,

in

which man's

conscience

agrees

with

the

unchanging

will of

God,.

cannot

suffer

destruction before nature

i t s e l f

perishes, but

abides the

certain rule of right

and wrong for a l l nations and for a l l ages.

The

third division of the Mosaic Law, the judicial, i s also

of universal obligation, in so far as i t s precepts do

not

relate to one

p eo p l e

alone,

nor punish the

v iol ation of ceremonies now abolished by the Gos

pel,

but

embrace

that

code

of

general

equity

which

should everywhere prevail.

In fine,"

said Beza, I

do not

hesitate to a f f i r m

that

those

princes

do t h e i r duty

who

adopt

as

examples

f o r t h e i r own imitation these laws of

God,

by establish

i n g , i f not the very same

kind

of p enalty, yet certainly

the very same measure of penalty, a nd who, as against

factious apostates,

enact

some

form

of

capital

punish

ment

for

horrible blasphemy and crime. For

the

majesty

of

God

should be held t o

be of

such moment among a l l

men,

through the

everlasting ages, t h a t , whoever s c o f f s

a t

i t , because

he

s c o f f s

a t the

very

Author

of

l i f e ,

most

j u s t l y deserves

t o

be p ut t o death by

violence. This I

s a y ,

t h i s I cry aloud, relying upon the truth of God a nd

the testimony of conscience.

Let

my opponents shout




u n t i l they are hoarse that we are savage, c r u e l , inhuman,

bloodthirsty.

Yet

s h a l l

the

truth

conquer

and show

a t

length that those deserve these epithets who, i n t h e i r

preposterous or insincere

zeal

for clemency, s u f f e r

the

wolves

to

fatten

upon

the

l i f e of

the sheep

rather

than

do

their

duty

i n vindicating

the

majesty

of God. 1

Most

deplorable indeed i s

the

error of Beza, both

because of the

perverted view

he presented

of

the

duty of

the

Christian

Church

to

a p p e a l

to

the

State

for aid in i t s

conflict

with heresy, and because

of

the

equally

disastrous notion he entertained of

the

duty of the Christian ruler to punish, even with

death,

the

crime of ac tiv e diss ent

from the

Church's

tenets.

It

i s impossible for us, however, to deny

the sincerity

of

the conviction, animating him

and

his

fellow-reformers, that

the

indiscriminate

admis

sion

into the

Christian

State

of

a l l

shades of religious

thought would at no distant

period

p ro ve

the State's

ruin.

It was this

conviction that rendered Beza

blind to

the consequences

that

were

sure

to follow,

and that

did follow, the a p p ro v a l

of

the principle

enunciated by Saint Augustine that constraint may

lawfully be employed to

bring

the recalcitrant

into

the

Gospel

fold.

Not to

s p e a k

of

the

justification

of every

form

of cruelty found by the apologists

for Romanism i n

the execution

of Servetus

by

Pro

testants,

the enforced

conversions of

the dragon-

nades,

a hundred

years l a t e r ,

seemed

to

have

a n

anticipated

vindication i n

the

theories advanced by

those Protestant writers who

with

strange inconsist-

1

I b i d . ,

i . ,

1 5 5 .



70

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 - 5 4

ency have striven to

clear

Cal vin and Geneva from

the

imputation

of

persecution.

Yet Beza was honest i n t h i s . He

was

also honest

i n

his relentless opposition to Castalio,

the

ad vocate

of

toleration

—

man

whom, in

his

Life of

Calvin,

written

ten

years l a t e r ,

he. did not hesitate

to

style

a

" monster,

who

"

by advising

every

man to be

lieve

what he

chose, opened

the door

to

a l l heresies

and false doctrines." Meanwhile, no more singu

l a r fact

could

be instanced i n

this

connection than

that the P rotes ta nt m arty rs , commonly known

as

the " Five from Geneva, while daily awaiting death

at the hands of the

executioner for

their

religious

opinions,

set the seal of their unequivocal ap proval

on the sentence

meted

out

to Michael Servetus.

One

of

their

number, Antoine

Laborie,

himself i n

forms

us

of

the

f a c t ,

i n

a

letter

written

shortly

before

his execution. On being reminded by one of his

judges that God

distinctly

commanded through

Moses, that

heretics

s houl d be

most

severely

pun

is hed ," the future

martyr t e l l s us:

"

I readily conceded

that heretics ought certainly t o

be punished, a nd for an example I brought up that im

pure

dog

Servetus,

upon

whom

was

i n f l i c t e d

the

l a s t

of punishments

a t Geneva; but I

bade

them be very cau

tious l e s t they should t r e a t Christians a nd the sons of

God a s heretics." 1

1 C r e s p i n , A c t i o n e s e t Monimenta Mariyrum,

f o l . 2 9 1 , R i s e

of

t h e Huguenots,

i . ,

2 1 3 ,

2 9 7 .



CHAPTERV

ACTIVITY AT

LAUSANNE

I5 4 9 -I 5 S 8

THEi f e

of Beza

at Lausanne was far from being

uneventful.

His health,

which

we have seen

was precarious when he ac cepted his

responsible

post

i n

the

University of Lausanne,

not

without fear that

i t

might tax

his strength beyond his powers of en

durance, was subjected to a s ev ere strain by a n attack

of

one

of

thos e s tr an ge

epidemics

which

were

in

the

sixteenth century confusedly spoken

of

as

the

pl ague." This occurred i n

the

summer of 1 5 5 1 ,

when

Beza had

been professor

for less than two

years.

Within

another twelve months Providence

laid new burdens upon him.

Five young

men,

a l l

of them

Frenchmen by birth,

who had been studying both

sacred

and profane

letters

at his feet and at

the

feet of his

colleagues

for

a

longer

or shorter

s p a c e

of

time, conceived the

brave project of

suspending their

studies that they

might v i s i t each his native region i n

the

fatherland

and enlighten

their own friends

and

kindred in the

truths which they had

themselves embraced. I t

was a

particularly hazardous

venture to which they

7 *



7 2

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

f e l t themselves individually called by God's Holy

Spirit; for

the French

Protestants had fallen

on

exceptionally perilous times. The cruel

E d i ct of

Chateaubriand had lately been enacted. Aight

of a p p e a l to the highes t

courts

ha s hitherto been

granted,

and s t i l l i s granted, to persons guilty of

poisoning, forgery, and

robbery,"

wrote

C a l vin

re

specting

the

new

law; " but this a p p e a l

i s

denied to

Christians. They are condemned by the ordinary

judges

to

be

dragged

straight

to

the

flames,

without

any liberty of a p p e a l . " 1 To

forsake

the hospitable

halls of Lausanne and enter France, was to rush

headlong into a fiery furnace. One

of

the f i v e ,

Bernard Seguin by name, a ref ugee from the region

of Limousin, had

been

an

inmate

of

Beza's

house,

possibly

earning

his livelihood in part

by service.3

Another had

lived

with

Viret. But

so far

from

dissuading

them,

their

teachers

and

patrons

ap

plauded

their

manly and Christian resolve, and

gave

them

letters

commendatory of their

character ad

dressed to the faithful whom they might

meet.

However,

the

immediate

issue did not

correspond

with their expectations. At Lyons, the very f i r s t

p l a ce

of importance which they

entered,

they were

arrested,

thrown

into prison, examined on

the ca pi

t a l charge of heresy, and condemned to death. I t

looked

like

a sheer

waste

of

valuable

lives which

with

a l i t t l e more

prudence

might

have been saved.

In truth, however, there was no waste. Contrary

' C a l v i n t o B u l l i n g e r ,

O c t . 1 5 , 1 5 5 1 . C a l v i n i O p e r a , x i v . , 1 8 6 -

1 8 8 .

S e e , a t l e a s t , C r e s p i n , Adiones e t Mvnimenla, f o l , 1 8 ( 3 ,



P I E R R E V I R E T .





1 5 5 2 ] Activity

at

Lausanne

73

to a l l anterior probability, under a law meant to

expedite

the

execution

of

dissidents

from

the

Church of Rome, they were kept in prison for over

a year. During a l l that

time,

and long

a f t e r , the

letters

that they

wrote, containing

minutes

of the

fearless

words they

uttered in the presence

of

every

thing that

would

naturally

have

terrified weaker men

into silence

or s ubm is sion,

thrilled

the

hearts of

multitudes of men and

women

into whose hands

they

f e l l .

It

i s

safe

to

s ay

that

each

of

the

five

scholars

of

Lausanne,

writing from

the noisome

dungeon

of

Lyons, made

many

more converts

than

he

would have gained had

he

been permitted to

reach

his home and p re a ch

without

hindrance to his

friends

and

neighbours.

The cause of the delay

that

rendered this activity

possible i s to

be

found in

the

influences which

Beza

and

Viret

were

able

to set in

motion.

The

young

men were the p roteges and the rec ip ients of the

bounty of

the

powerful Canton of

Bern, owner

of

the Pays de Vaud, and founder of the Un iv er sit y

of Lausanne. To secure

the

intercession of

the

Lords of Bern with

the French

King, who

was

i n

need of

Swiss troops, and

to

direct

the efforts of

Bern

in

every

quarter

that

appeared

to

offer

promise

of success—his was

the

incessant study of Beza and

his colleagues. They

did not hesitate

to

go in p er

son

and plead

before the magistracy the cause

of

their

beloved pupils. If a l l their

efforts

and a l l

the

honest endeavours of

the Bernese

failed to ac

com p l i s h the release

of

the captives, the

fault must

be laid at

the door

of Henry I I . and of Cardinal




Tournon,

rivals

i n the

ignoble

practice

of

violating

assurances and

promises

solemnly given.1

But

labours

su ch

as

this

episode

of

martyr

history

imposed were far

easier

to be endured

than

the t r i a l

that awaited Beza two or three years l a t e r . I have

spoken

at the

beginning of

this

work of

the

high

position of the Reformer's family,

of

the ambition

of

his

father

and

uncles,

and of the hopes which

both

father

and

uncles based upon the brilliant a b i l i t i e s

of

the

possession of which Theodore had given

proof. Even

now, although

four or f i v e

years

had

elapsed since

his

withdrawal

from

France, they

could

not

bring themselves to renounce

the

dream

of seeing him once more

at Paris,

well

started

upon

a

career

that

would add great

lustre and

wealth to

the

already fortunate family. They

were

encouraged

to make the

attempt to reclaim him, by

false

rumours

that

his

success

abroad

had

by no

means

corresponded

with his anticipations, and that they

might more easily persuade

him because he

was a

disappointed

man. First, therefore, Theodore's

elder brother John presented himself unannounced

at Lausanne,

fully pre pared to offer

sufficient

i n

ducements to

bring

the exile home.

I f Theodore

was surprised by his unexpected but welcome ad-

1 T he

A c t i o n e s

e t Moniimnia Martyr

um

d e v o t e s more t h a n h a l f a

b o o k ,

o v e r s i x t y - f o u r

p a g e s

( f o l s .

1 8 5 - 2 1 7 ) , t o

t h e h e r o i c

s t o r y o f t h e

"Five

S c h o l a r s o f

t h e Academie

o f

Lausanne"

—

by no means t h e

l e a s t i n t e r e s t i n g p o r t i o n o f t h e w o r k .

The " F i v e

S c h o l a r s

o f Lau

s a n n e , " who p e r i s h e d a t Lyons i n

1 5 5 3 ,

must n o t

b e

confounded

w i t h t h e "Five

o f

Geneva," who

were

p u t

t o

d e a t h i n 1 5 5 5 ,

a t

Chambery, and

o f whose e q u a l l y

r e m a r k a b l e

endurance

C r e s p i n t e l l s

u s , i b i d . , f o l s ,

2 8 3 - 3 2 1 ,



1 5 5 4 ] Activity

at

Lausanne 7 5

vent,

John was much

more astonished

to

find

Theodore

occupying

a

position

of

honour

and

i n f l u

ence. Calumny

had

reported him

to

be living

a

dissolute

l i f e . He

was

said

to

be

as

much despised

by others for his vices as he

was

himself wanting i n

self-respect.

On

the

contrary, John found him a

prominent citizen of Lausanne, a beloved

colleague

of scholars

of high

repute,

a

teacher

enjoying

the

confidence

of

his p up il s, the

pride of a

great school

of learning. The result of the conference of

the

two

brothers was such as might have been looked f o r .

"

You

must

before this

have heard of the unexpected

arrival of my

elder brother,"

Beza

wrote to

Calvin.

"

He

came

to institute a

struggle

with me, i n which,

thank God

I was so

successful

that I

gained

access

to

the

attainment

of what I never ventured to

hope.

Unfortunately,

we

have

no

further

information

re

specting

the interv iew or i t s ulterior

results.

We

only know that from Theodore

Beza's

l a s t will and

testament i t

would

appear that some of his nephews

had

been

brought

up in the

p rinc ip les of a pure

Gospel.1

The

conflict

was

not over.

John Beza at his

de

parture stated to Theodore that, in case his persua

sions

proved

ineffectual, his

aged

father

would

come

i n person to make

a

supreme e f f o r t . Accordingly,

some months l a t e r ,

father

and

s on met, on the c on

fines

of

Franche-Comte. The

Reformer looked for

ward

with

no

l i t t l e trepidation to a n interview

of

which, i f he

did

not fear the consequences, so far as

his own steadfastness was

concerned,

he dreaded

1

Baum,

T h e o d o r

B e z a ,

i . ,

2 3 5 .



76 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i o -

the

results in

the

case of his infirm parent. He

therefore

wrote

to

Farel

:

"

I have received

a fresh

message respecting

my

f a t h e r ,

which

gives me great

hope

that

either he

w i l l

shortly

come i n person to u s , or that I s h a l l certainly

meet him not f a r

from

here. Pray for

me,

I

beg

you,

that I may

not

be compelled t o be the

minister

of

death t o him through whom the Lord conferred t h i s l i f e

upon

me,

and,

i n

the

next

place,

that

against

the

impend

ing

temptation,

the

most

severe of

a l l ,

my strength

may

s u f f i c e that I may truly and earnestly

ponder

what the

Lord says: ' E v e ry

one

that

hath

forsaken father or

mother

for

my name's

sake, s h a l l receive an hundred

fold a nd s h a l l inherit everlasting l i f e . ' For, otherwise,

who am I that I should

r e s i s t these

temptations ? But

I hope t o be

able

t o do both t h i s and a l l things through

Him

who

i s

i n

truth

my

Father."

1

About

the

same time he wrote to

C a l vin

respecting

the same matter:

' ' A

s t i l l harder struggle threatens me

with

my f a t h e r ,

whom I am t o meet

i n

f i v e days on the borders of the

[Franche] Comte. May God

give

me grace, a s I hope

i n Him,

not

only t o

withstand

courageously h i s powerful

a s s a u l t s

upon

my

heart,

but

t o

win

him

over,

i f

possible,

for my Master. More than

a l l

other

threats

I fear

that

look,

the

caressing prayers,

the

tears

of the

f a t h e r ,

the

old ma n. But I hope that

here a l s o ,

as so often hereto

f o r e , my compassionate God w i l l graciously stand by

me,

that a l l may

redound t o

H is glory."

2

1 Beza t o F a r e l , A p r i l

2 4

( 1 5 5 4 ) . Baum, T h e o d . B e z a ,

i . ,

doc,

4 3 8 .

2 T r a n s ,

i n

Baum,

i . ,

2 3 5 ,

2 3 6 .





78 Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

ally and by easy stages, to a n incomparably wider

sphere of

usefulness—

hat, i n point of

f a c t , the

university

class-room

was

to

serve merely as

the

vestibule

of

a

grander

structure

—hat from

a

teacher

of youth i t was to make of

him

a p owe rf u l a d v oc a t e

of the op pressed

brethren of his

own

f a i t h , at a

later time the f i r s t recognised apologist before kings

and princes of the principles for which

the

martyrs

of the

Reformed

Churches

of France had

ineffectu

ally

striv en to

secure a

hearing,

and

u lt im a tel y t he

honoured

and

trusted Counsellor

and

Leader

of

French Protestantism.

I t was i n the years now under consideration

that

Beza took

the f i r s t

steps i n this

direction.

We have seen how

the circumstance

that

he

had

been

their teacher induced Beza to

assume

a

prom

inent

part

i n

the efforts put forth to sav e the lives

of

beloved

pupils,

destined

victims

of

religious

i n

tolerance.

The

s k i l l he manifested, and the c on

sciousness

to which he awoke, that his mental

characteristics,

his

liberal

training, his f amil ia rity

from infancy with the best society,

his

cultivated

manners, and his easy and dignified address afforded

him

special f a c i l i t i e s , and therefore conferred special

responsibility, for rep r es enting the cause

of

the op

pressed at court and in

the

homes of

t he p ower fu l,

opened

his eyes to his a d v an t age s and to his duty.

As a natural consequence,

from

this

time forward,

whenever

there

were delicate negotiations to be

conducted

in

behalf

of the

churches

of

his f a i t h ,

the

eyes of men

turned

with ever-increasing

confidence

to Theodore

Beza as the most

promising

man i n the



t 5 5 7 ]

Activity

at

Lausanne 79

Reformed

communion

to

conduct

them.

On the

other

hand,

Beza

himself

permitted

no

considera

tions of private comfort or

ease

to deter

him from

undertaking a work

often

tedious

and burdensome,

always making a heavy draft upon his sympathy.

His f i r s t attempt i n this

direction

had

a

political

as well as a religious side. The alliance between

the powerful

and

aggrandising Canton

of

Bern

and

the f a r l e s s extensive and independent city of Geneva

had been

made

for a definite number of

years

and

was to terminate on February 8 , 1556.

I t

was by

no means certain

that

the ambitious

government

of

the former state would renew

a relation

from which

the weaker city seemed to derive a l l the benefit.

Moreover,

Bern

had more

than

once made i t clear

that there was

no lack

of persons

powerful in i t s

councils

who

would

gladly

extend

i t s

territory

to

the outlet of Lake Leman and

hold

Geneva

upon

the

same tenure on

which

i t

already

held

the Pays

de

Vaud.

I f

this

project should f a i l , there were

men

ready to recommend

the

ac ceptance of

the

offers of a

close

alliance made contemporaneously

by Duke Emmanuel

Philibert

of Sa voy. The dan

ger to Protestantism was imminent. Forsaken by

Bern, the

nearest

and

most

powerful

of

the

cantons

i n which

the

Reformation had taken

root, the

re

public of Geneva,

the object

of

the im placable

hatred of the Roman Pontiff and of the Roman

Catholics

throughout

Europe,

could not have failed

to be ground to

pieces

between

the

two adjoining

countries—rance and Savoy—f which the one or

the

other

seemed

destined to destroy i t s independent



8o Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

existence. The danger that menaced Geneva

was

a

danger

menacing

Protestantism

entire,

and

Beza

hel ped

to avert i t , by exhibiting,

and

by inducing

others

to

exhibit,

to those in power the

conse

quences

that

were certain to

follow

the suicidal

policy

of

disunion. The renewal

of

the alliance be

tween Bern and Geneva, in 1557,

was

in great part

the

result of Beza's intercession at Zurich and with

the other

Protestant

cantons,

and

constituted in

i t s e l f

a

claim

to

t he g ra tit ude

of

the

city

which

was

soon to become his home for

the

remainder of his

l i f e . I t

formed a

new link

in the chain

already

binding him in the closest

friendship to John

Calvin.

Meanwhile,

before this

disquieting question had

been set at r e s t , another cause of solicitude arose.

The valleys inhabited by

the

Waldenses, or Vau-

dois,

of

Piedmont,

constituted a

part

of

the

t e r r i

tories

taken from

the

Duke of

Savoy by Francis I . in

1535. During the score of years which the French

occupation had now lasted, the inhabitants, profess

ing to be in f u l l accord with

the

Protestants, but

claiming that

they

had held

their

pure faith for

centuries

before the birth of Luther and even from

the

time of

the

apostles, enjoyed a respite from

persecution,

as

grateful

as

unlooked

f o r .

While

re

lentlessly vexing the adherents of the Reformed

faith i n their

own

dominions, Francis I . and Henry

I I . had either from

policy

abstained from similarly

maltreating the professors of a kindred f aith in

the

newly acquired domain, o r , possibly, had forgotten

the very existence of a n insignificant

body

of dis

senters who gave them no trouble in a time of gen



t 5 5 6 ]

Activity

at

Lausanne

8 1

eral confusion. In consequence of their

unwonted

exemption

from

external

interference,

the

Vaudois

began to

make a freer

profession of

their f a i t h ,

to

hold

more

public religious services, and to seek and

obtain the services of twenty

or more preachers,

many of them

trained

for

the sacred ministry in

Switzerland, and especially at the sc hool of Lau

sanne.

In the

Val d'Angrogna, in particular,

they

even commenced the erection

of

houses

of

worship.

Such boldness c oul d not long e s c a p e notice. The

French Parliament of

Turin

sent

two

of

i t s mem

bers, t he P r es id en t de Saint

Julien

and the Counsel

lor Delia Chiesa, with an ample escort to v i s i t

the

valleys and

put

a stop to

the

progress

of heresy.

I f p r oc l a m a ti on s c ou l d have effected t h i s , the men

aces addressed to those tha t ref us ed to submit, and

the

rewards

offered

to

those who

consented

to

em

brace

the

Roman Catholic f a i t h , would

have sufficed.

But

the

Vaudois either forsook their homes or

were

deaf alike to threats

and

to entreaties. This

was

in

1556.

The

next

year

more strenuous measures

were

instituted. I t became evident that nothing

short

of

a

determined

effort

to

su p press

the Vaudois

religion

was

to be expected.

That

i t would f a i l miserably

in

the

end,

as

a l l

similar

e f f o r t s ,

before

that

time

and since,

have

f a i l e d , was, i t i s

true, almost

a cer

tainty. AWaldensian martyr, p ut to death f or his

constancy twenty years

before,

expressed

the

truth

in

a

homely fashion, when, just before his execution

and being already bound to

the stake, he requested

a

bystander

to

hand him

two

stones,

and

having

re

ceived them began to rub the one

against

the

other,

6



82

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

and then addressed these words to a crowd now

curious

to learn

the

s ignif ic anc e of

his

strange

actions: You imagine

that

by your persecutions

you

will abolish our Churc hes , but that will

be

no

more

possible for

you

than i t i s possible for me to

destroy these stones with my hands

or

by eating

them up. 1

None the

less

was the

pros pect of one

of those massacres,

that

have

so

often

drenched

the

Waldensian

m oun ta in -s id es wi th blood, so terrible

that

no

time

was

lost

in

sending

forth

a cry

of

dis

tress to summon a l l friends in Switzerland and else

where to

the

rescue.

Both

Geneva and

Lausanne heard the news

with

pity and with horror. Among

the

destined

victims

of persecution and

death were

prominent ministers

of whom many formerly studied theology in those

c i t i e s

under

Calvin

and

Beza.

There was

no

oppor

tunity for long consultation. Someone

must be

promptly despatched to arouse the

f our grea t

Pro

testant cantons and the Protestant princes of south

ern

Germany, and

induce them

to

use the

privilege

of f riend s or a l l i e s with

the

King of France, by re

monstrating against

the execution

of

the proscriptive

measures ordered by the court. That man must be

courageous,

energetic,

and

quick

and

f e r t i l e

in

ex

pedients. Above a l l , he must be sufficiently catholic

i n

his views to be able to conciliate i n favour of the

proposed intervention

the partisans of the

different

shades of the Reformed faith and the Lutherans,

whether broad or

narrow

in their views. He must,

moreover,

be a

man of

conspicuous

tact and address,

1

M o n a s t i e r ,

H i s t o i r e d e

r £ g l i s e

V a u d o i s e

( T o u l o u s e ,

1 8 4 7 ) ,

i . ,

2 1 0 .



1 5 5 7 ] Activity

at

Lausanne 83

who from

his birth and associations would stand un

abashed

in

the

presence

of

princes

and

courtiers.

Such

a

man

was found in

Theodore

Beza,

and

the

choice of him was

fully

justified by the

sequel.

With him went, as

fellow-envoy, the

now aged

William Farel,

the

memory of whose

masterful

ministry of evangelisation

in French-speaking

Swit

zerland and

in the neighbouring parts

was

s t i l l

fresh

i n

men's

minds , and

whose

rash

impetuosity, i f not

altogether

extinguished

by

added

years,

was

well

kept in check by the surer judgment of his younger

colleague, whom

he thoroughly

respected

and

ad

mired. Bern not only gave leave

of absence to

Beza, but p rov id ed him and Farel with strong l e t

ters of recommendation to

her

three confederate

cantons of

Zurich, Basel, and

Schaffhausen.

In

these

places,

as

everywhere

e l s e ,

Beza

was

the

spokesman. Being unfamiliar with

the

German

language, he

spoke

in Latin, the universal

language

of courts and

universities,

and his ornate periods

and

graceful eloquence secured him

a favourable

hearing from

a l l the learned. When i t was

neces

sary, the Reformer Bullinger, of Zurich, and others

gladly acted as interpreters. With

the

su p port of

such

a

man

at

Zurich,

of

the

leading

pastor,

Sim-

pert Vogt, at Schaffhausen,

and

of Simon Sulzer at

Basel, i t was

easy

to bring

the

magistrates to

look

favourably on

the

p l a n of sending a body

of envoys

from

the

four

evangelical cantons

to

the French

court. The ' '

instruction

' ' given

to them

as

a

guide

for

the

discharge of their commission in a d el ic ate

undertaking

ha s

come

down

to

u s . I t

was

written




by

Theodore

Beza, and i s the f i r s t and

a

v ery f av our

able

example

of

his

p a p er s

dealing

with

political

a f f a i r s . 1

The

difficulties increased as Beza and

Farel

pur

sued

their

way,

but these were

overcome. At

Montbeliard—apital

of a

county now forming

part of France—hich, many years before, Fare]

and Toussain had undertaken to evangelise in the

midst of

great commotions, they found the p l a ce

altogether

won

over

to

Protestantism,

but

they

also

found Toussain, who was now at

the

head of the

Church, not only

decided

i n

his

adhesion

to

the

Lutheran view of the Lord's Supper as opposed to

the

Zwinglian or to

the Calvinistic, but

particularly

alienated

from Geneva and pronounced in his dis

a p p ro v a l

of

the

execution of Servetus, and of the

apologies written in justification

of

that lamentable

event. This did

not,

however, i n

the end,

prevent

Montbeliard also from endorsing and

heartily

recom

mending

the

mission

of the

envoys. At

Strassburg

Beza was welcomed

by

Francois Hotman. This

eminent

scholar,

his attached colleague in the Uni

versity of Lausanne, had, a year or

two

since,

ac cepted a chair in the Univ ers ity

of

Strassburg.

Here,

as

elsewhere,

the

presence

of

the

venerable

Farel,

who

had

written nothing to offend Lutheran

susceptibilities,

proved

ad vantageous. The senate

of

the

city

not

only paid him and Beza other f l a t t e r

ing

attentions, but sent

Hotman wi th t he m ,

mounted,

and with mounted guards of honour, at the city's

expense, to carry two

l e t t e r s , the

one

addressed

to

1

Text

i n

Baum, T h e o d o r

B e z a ,

i . , doc,

4 0 1 - 4 0 5 , A p r i l ,

1 5 5 7 .



1 5 5 7 ] Activity at Lausanne 85

Otto Henry,

Elector Palatine,

and

the

other to

Duke

Christopher

of

Wiirtemberg.

Both

these

princes

received

the envoys

graciously,

the former

at Baden, where he

was

sojourning

for his

health's

sake, the latter

at

Goppingen. The

Elector

P a l a

tine,

desirous of making

the

German intercession

more effective

with the

French king

by t he a d d it ion

of

the

influence of Hesse, wrote and despatched by

a special

messenger of

his

own

a letter to

the

Land

grave, Philip of Hesse.

An

object which Beza had incidentally proposed

to

himself in

his mission,

an object

of

even greater

permanent importance to Christendom

than

the

rescue of the

Waldenses,

was the unification of Pro

testantism by the reconciliation

of

the

views

re

specting

the Lord's

Supper held by

the

two

great

subdivisions

of

the P rotestant

world.

He

had

conferred at Strassburg with

the

superintendent and

doctor of theology, John Marbach. At

Goppingen

he met and conversed l ong with the eminent Jacob

Andreas, his future disputant in a more formal

colloquy. There seemed to be

some

prospect

of

substantial

agreement,

and, as the references to

Calvin's expressed

views were deemed

insufficient,

Beza

was induced to draw up

a

new and

brief con

fession

of faith touching

the

chief

point in contro

versy. Written with the ev id ent desire to reduce

to a

minimum

the difference between the

opinions

of

Lutherans and Calvinists, the document i s

a l i t e r

ary

and religious curiosity. In some regards i t may

be

compared

with those extraordinary a r t i c l e s , with

their

amazing

concessions,

which

Melanchthon drew



86

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

up , a quarter of a century e a r l i e r , i n

the

vain

hope

of

being

able to

bring together

such

discordant

views as those of Rome and those of the adherents

of

the

Reformation.1 Cal vin and Beza undoubtedly

rejected the opinion of Zwingli,

that

the elements

of bread and wine in

the

Eucharist are mere signs.

I t

i s

equally certain

that

they did not hold with

Luther

that

the

body and

blood of Christ are really

present

i n ,

with,

and under

the

bread and wine,

though

these

are

not

miraculously

transmuted

into

very flesh and blood. But i t must be confessed

that,

in

the Confession now

under consideration,

as

we

shall see, Beza approached

as

nearly to the

Lutheran view as i t was possible to do without act

ually

abandoning

the

Reformed

position.

Both the Swiss

and

the

Germans

f u l f i l l e d their

promises and sent envoys to France. Their recep

tion need not detain us

long.

The

Swiss,

honest

but

simple-minded

r u s t i c s ,

were

kindly but

some

what

contemptuously

treated,

and

received

no

definite

answer

to their plea

in behalf

of

the

Wal-

denses. They deserve our respect, however, for

t h i s , at l e a s t , that

when at their departure

King

Henry I I . ,

who,

through Constable Montmorency,

had

previously

promised

them

each

a

gold

chain,

now

sent

them a

present of two

hundred ducats,

they proved themselves to be no mercenary boors,

by indignantly rejecting

the

proffered bounty, with

the

exclamation: We

seek not gold nor

s i l v e r ,

but the safety of brethren who

are

our members

I n

1 5 3 4 .

S e e R i s e of t h e H u g u e n o t s , i . , 1 6 1 , 1 6 2 .



1 5 5 7 ] Activity

at

Lausanne

87

and partakers

in the same

religion."

The

German

envoys,

who

arrived

in

P aris a

f u l l

month

later

than

the

Swiss, represented seven Protestant princes, a l l

of

them entitled

to

high consideration. They were

instructed to impress upon the King of France the

injury

to his

reputation

which

the report

of

the

cruelties

exercised upon his innocent subjects would

produce. They were also

to

urge upon his

Majesty

the necessity of instituting a n impartial investiga

tion, which

would

surely

establish

both

the

purity

ôf

the doctrinal

tenets and

the loyalty of the

perse

cuted.

But although

a

reply was made to

the

envoys, i n the monarch's

name,

i t

was of no

very

satisfactory

import. For i t

plainly

betrayed the

annoyance of the

king

at

what

he

considered

a n

unnecessary a p p e a l of his conquered

subjects

to

their sovereign's

friends, and

confined

i t s e l f

to the

expression

of

a

hope

that

the

inhabitants of

the Va l

d'Angrogna would henceforth so order their l i v e s ,

like the rest

of his

subjects,

as

not to

compel

him to

exercise

severity toward them."

Exactly

how much good

was effected

by the

Ger

man and

Swiss

intervention, i t i s d i f f i c u l t to asc er

t a i n .

Despite

his affected

indifference,

Henry and

his

advisers

were

not

insensible

to

the

importance

of maintaining a

good

understanding with their

Protestant

neighbours and a l l i e s . Beside t h i s ,

how

ever, the king

had

within a few

weeks

more

engross

ing and p e rp l e xi ng m a tt er s on

hand.

On August

1

S e e

Baum, i . , 2 7 3 ,

and

t h e

e x t r a c t

o f a l e t t e r from B u l l i n g e r t o

C a l v i n ,

g i v e n i b i d . , i . , 2 7 4 ,

n o t e ,

2 Baum, i . , 2 7 4 .



88 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 i 9 -

1 0 , 1 5 5 7 , his army was defeated with great loss in

a

pitched battle at Saint

Quentin.

Constable Mont

morency, who commanded

i t , was

taken prisoner.

Paris

was threatened.. I t

was no

time to

think

about

the Vaudois

and

their

proposed annihilation.

The project

was d ro p p e d . Less

than two years

l a t e r ,

by

the

treaty of

Cateau

Cambresis

(on April

3 ,

1559), the Vaudois valleys, with a l l the rest of Pied

mont, s a ve Turin and two or three other places,

p a s s e d

out

of

the

hands

of

the

French

and

were

restored

to

their

rightful

sovereign, the Duke of

S a voy .

This was but

the

f i r s t of three successive

v i s i t s

of

Beza to Germany in the

interest of his

op pressed

fellow-believers. From the Vaudois or Waldensian

v a lleys of Piedmont

the scene

of persecution shifted

to France

and to

the city of Paris i t s e l f .

So

p re

carious

was

the

s itua tion of

the

Protestants

of

the

capital,

in

view of

the

sanguinary legislation of

Henry I I . , that although

their

number was

by no

means insignificant

and was

daily growing,

they

dared meet only

by

night and with

the

utmost

se

crecy.

Unhappily

a

nocturnal gathering

held

in a

house

of

the Rue Saint Jacques

was

surprised by

their

enemies, and ,

out

of

a

much

larger number

of worshippers, one hundred and

twenty persons,

mostly women, with a few men

and some

children,

were

apprehended and dragged

to prison. Many of

them

were shortly p ut

to

death,

and

the mob

had

the

gratification of beholding

such

a

sight

as a

Parisian mob never tired of seeing—he v ic tim s of i t s

hatred, some of them young women

and respectable



T 5 5 7 ] Activity at Lausanne 89

matrons,

roasted

in the flames

of

the estrapade.

The political juncture was

particularly

inauspicious

for

the Lutherans,

as

the dissenters from the

Roman Catholic Church were s t i l l styled. Bigots

represented

the calamity

that

had

lately befallen

the

kingdom in

the

defeat of

Saint Quentin

as a

direct punishment for i t s sin in tolerating heresy,

and stirred up

the

p o p u l a c e to welcome any new

blow

aimed at

the Protestants. The

l a t t e r , terrified

by

what had

befallen

their

brethren,

and

apprehen

sive of what might s t i l l be

in

store, anxious above

a l l to

s a ve

the lives

of

the prisoners from their

im

pending f a t e ,

sent in haste

to

Geneva

to acquaint

Calvin with the new disaster and to beg

that

every

thing

should be

done to enlist

the

interest of

neighbouring

Protestant

States.

Again was

Beza

chosen, in conjunction with the

aged

Farel and with

Budaeus

and

Carmel,

to

lay

the

pitiful

case

of

the

French

before as

many

as

would

listen

to their

cry

of

distress. Not once but twice did the Reformer

leave Lausanne and exert himself to the utmost to

bring both

Swiss

cantons and German princes to

prompt and decisive intercession. The direct re

sults were not overencouraging. The Swiss envoys

when

they

reached

the

court

of

France

allowed

themselves

to be

so

completely hoodwinked by the

Cardinal of

Lorraine, always

rich

i n promises

of

support, that

leaving

a l l to him they

found

them

selves

i n

the

end

dismissed by the monarch with a

message

to

the effect

that

he had expected that

Zurich,

Bern,

Basel, and

S chaf fhausen

would

be

content with his

response

to

them

i n

the

matter of



9o

Theodore Beza [ 1 5 I 9 -

the Waldenses of Angrogna, and abstain from send

ing

him

ambassadors

on

a

similar

occasion,

as

they

had now done. At

any

rate, he begged his "

very

dear and good friends " from this time f orth to give

themselves no care or

solicitude respecting what he

might do in his kingdom, since he

was

resolved to

maintain his religion therein as

the

most Christian

kings, his predecessors,

had done. In this

matter,

he said, he had to give an account of his actions to

no

one

but

to

God.1

The

Elector

Palatine

wrote

a

letter which seems

to have had some effect

in

secur

ing a l u l l in the persecution. Others, especially

good Christopher of Wiirtemberg,

did the

same.

But the

German

princes were not always moved

to

prompt and effective action. The ol d disunion be

tween Lutherans

and

Reformed

had

not been

suf

fered to die out by the zeal of the theologians who

l ooked a s ka nc e

at

the orthodoxy

of their Swiss

brethren

and were disposed

to magnify rather than

to a ttenua te the disastrous d if ferenc es of Luther

and Zwingli,

now that

Luther and

Zwingli

had

long

been in their graves. I t seemed to Beza an oppor

tune time to labour to conciliate

the

favour of

the

Germans, by showing

them that

the persecuted

French

Protestants

whom

they

were

entreated

to

help

were

no

heretics, but

brethren in substantial

agreement wi th t hem s el v es as to

the essential

truths

of the

Reformation

held in Germany. In common

with his colleagues, therefore, he laid before Me-

lanchthon, Brentius,

Marbach,

Andreae, and the

1 T he

k i n g ' s

a n s w e r , November

5 , 1 5 5 7 , i n B u l l . , i . , 1 6 6 . R i s e

of t h e Huguenots, i . , 3 0 9 ,

3 1 0 ,



1 5 5 8 ] Activity at Lausanne 91

other most prominent representatives of

Lutheran

theology,

at

their

gathering

at

Worms,

a written

exposition of

the

tenets of

the

French

Churches,

of

so irenic a character that

the divergences

seemed

not merely smoothed down, but a lm os t obliterated.

In a l l

the

Augsburg Confession of 1530, they found

but

one article

which

was

not in agreement

with

their own Confession

and which they

did not a c cept

—

amely, the

article

respecting the Lord's

Su p p e r.

Even

the

d i f f i c u l t i e s

in

this

article

they

thought

could be removed by

a

conference of learned

and

pious men.

Meanwhile,

they declared that

they

had

never

believed,

nor

had they

taught,

that

the

Lord's

Supper i s merely

a sign

of

profession,

as

the

Anabaptists believe, or merely

a sign of the a bs ent

Christ." 1

A

few

months

before,

while

on

the

embassy

to

p lead the c ause of the Waldenses, Beza, s peaking

for himself and for Farel, expressed himself no l e s s

strongly,

in a

confession

of faith

which he handed

to

the

Duke of

Wiirtemberg,

at

Goppingen, as

set

ting forth the doctrine held by the Churches

of

Swit

zerland and S a voy , or Piedmont.2 A sentence or

two

from t h i s , the

f i r s t of

Beza's utterances

respect

ing

the

Lord s

S u p p e r ,

i t

may

be

well

to

quote,

in

order to show

the length

to which

the

Reformer

was

willing

to go

in the

effort to

find

a common

ground on which to stand with his German brethren :

1

" C o n f e s s i o D o c t . E c c l e s . G a l l i c . E x h i b i t a T h e o l o g i s A u g u s t .

C o n f e s s ,

i n C o l l o g . W o r m a t i e n s i . " Baum, d o c . , i . ,

4 0 9 - 4 1 1 .

Dated

October 8 ,

1 5 5 7 .

2

B e z a ' s

f i r s t "

Apology,"

a d d r e s s e d t o Claude d e

S a i n c t e s ( 1 5 6 7 ) ,

i n

T r a c t .

T h e o l . ,

i i . ,

2 9 5 .




" We confess that i n the Lord's S u p p e r not only a l l

the

benefits

of

Christ,

but

also

the

very

substance

of

the

S on

of man

—s a y , that

true

f l e s h

which the everlasting

Word took into perpetual unity

of

person, i n which

He

wa s born a nd suffered

for u s ,

rose and

ascended into the

heavens,

a nd that

true

blood

which He

shed

for us

—

re

not

merely s i g n i f i e d , or

s e t forth

symbolically, figura

t i v e l y , or t y p i c a l l y , as

the memorial

of

an absent

person,

but are

truly and

certainly

represented, exhibited, a nd

offered

t o

be

applied,

there

being

added t o

the thing

i t s e l f symbols

that

are by no means bare symbols, but

such t h a t , so f a r

as appertains

t o God's promise

a nd

o f f e r ,

they always have the thing i t s e l f truly a nd certainly

conjoined, whether they be s e t forth t o believers or t o

unbelievers." 1

I t

i s

not

surprising that, in his attempt to gain

over the German Protestants,

Beza

should

have

in

curred not

a

l i t t l e risk of

alienating his

own

friends

i n Switzerland. His a p p a re nt concessions

to

Lu

theran

views were highly distasteful to the adherents

of

the Zwinglian

theology, and Bullinger,

the

Re

former of Zurich,

had

succeeded not only to

the

influence

but in

a

great measure to the views

of

Zwingli. Endeared as he was to

Beza

by ties of

cordial affection

and

good-will,

Bullinger

c oul d not

but

view

the utterances

of

Beza

at

Goppingen

with

grave

apprehension, as

indicative

of

a danger

of

schism among

Swiss

Churches thus

far harmonious.

Calvin understood

his

friend better

and

poured o i l

1 " C o n f e s s i o F i d e i D o c t r i n a e q u e d e Coena Domini E x h i b i t a

I l l u s -

t r i s s .

P r i n c .

V i r t e m b e r g . , A u t h o r i b u s Th. Beza e t Guilhelmo

F a r e l l o . " Baum, doc, i . , 4 0 6 , 4 0 7 . Dated

Ma y

1 4 , 1 5 5 7 .



1 5 5 7 ]

Activity at

Lausanne 93

on the

troubled waters.

"

As there i s no

lurking

danger i n

Beza's

confession,"

he

wrote

to Bullinger,

August 7 ,

1 5 5 7 , " I readily

excuse

him,

because,

in

consideration of the brethren, with studied modera

tion

he ha s

striven

to

reconcile fierce men ; especially

as he previously distinctly explained a l l

his different

meanings. 1 _ But Bullinger was not fully appeased

even

by

Calvin's

intercession,

and Beza's efforts

to

reconcile Lutherans and Reformed by

reducing

to

an

a p p a re nt

minimum

the

differences

that

kept

them apart, gave

r i s e to a n

interchange

of

letters

between

Lausanne and Zurich, extending over a

number of months,

which even now

may

be

read

with p r o f i t . Upon Beza's

project of

a c onf erenc e

to be held with the view of harmonising discordant

views upon

the

matter under consideration, Bullinger

looked

with

scant

favour. He ac cepted

with

kind

ness the explanations of his meaning which Beza,

sincerely

sorry to

have

incurred

the disapproval

of

so

excellent a friend, made

at

great

length in suc

cessive

epistles,

and he conceded frankly

the

desir

ability of

mutual love

and holy concord between

the

servants

of a common

Master.

"

Meanwhile,"

said

he

and

h i s

colleagues,

the

pastors

a nd

doctors of the Church of Zurich,

" i t

i s not

any

and

every s o r t

of

a concord

that

we long

f o r ;

but a concord

that i s r e l i g i o u s , moderate, conflicting i n

nothing

with

the pure truth hitherto professed, introducing no ob

scurity

or doubt into manifest l i g h t

and perspicuous

doctrine, a concord which on

account

of

i t s clearness

1 C a l v i n t o B u l l i n g e r , Aug. 7 ,

1 5 5 7 .

B o n n e t ,

i i i . ,

3 4 5 .



94


s h a l l be common and welcome to a l l the pious, abiding

a nd

s t a b l e ,

a nd

that

s h a l l

scatter

abroad

no

new

begin

nings of fresh dissensions." 1

Thus i t

was

that

Theodore Beza's attempt

to

effect a reconciliation between the wa r ri ng e le me nt s

within

the

bosom of Protestantism i t s e l f ,

aroused

the suspicion,

and

drew upon him the animadver

sion, of many of his own most sincere friends. So

had

Melanchthon's

equally

well-meant

project

of

bringing

tog ether a ga in the

Roman Catholic and

Protestant Churches, two- or three-and-twenty years

e a r l i e r , drawn upon him

the

displeasure of the greater

part

of those who learned

of

i t . 2 As ,

however, Philip

Melanchthon comforted himself, when ac cused of

being a deserter to

the P rotes ta nt

cause,

not onl y

by

the con s cious ness

of his

integrity

of purpose

but

by

the sup port

and

a p p ro v a l

of

Martin Luther, so

did

Theodore Beza find ample compensation for the

not altogether

unreasonable annoyance expressed

by others, i n the unswerving confidence extended

to him by

the

great Reformer of Geneva. For to

Calvin

he

f e l t a devotion

not

inferior to that which

characterised the

relation of

the younger of the

Wittenberg

theologians

to

his

father

i n

the

Lord.

Both Beza and

Melanchthon,

i f

unsuccessful in

ac

complishing the desired union,

had

this consolation,

at

l e a s t ,

that their

labours

had been expended in

the

most honourable

and humane

of

causes,

the

1 The P a s t o r s and P r o f e s s o r s o f T h e o l o g y , M i n i s t e r s o f t h e Church

o f

Z u r i c h , t o

Beza

a t L a u s a n n e ,

D e c .

1 5 , 1 5 5 7 . Baum, doc, i . , 5 0 3 .

s

S e e

R i s e

of t h e Huguenots, i . , 1 8 6 .





CHAPTERVI

BEZA BECOMES

CALVIN'S

COADJUTOR AND RECTOR

OF THE UNIVERSITY OF GENEVA

I558, 1 5 5 9

IN the

year

1558, Beza

resigned

the

professorship

which he

had

held for a l i t t l e short

of

nine years,

to a c cept a

chair i n

the new

institution which

C a l vin

had long been anxious

to found at Geneva, for

the

promotion of higher learning, but, esp ecially, of

theological science.

His

course in

Lausanne

had

been brilliant

and

successful. Of

this

there

could be no

question.

He had disc ha rged the duties of his o f f i c e with

signal ability and faithfulness, and

had been

re

warded for his t o i l not only by the a p p l au se of the

learned, but by a marked increase in

the

number of

his pupils.

From a

mere

handful

of

students,

the

Academie of

Lausanne had

come to

boast an

at

tendance

of

seven

hundred.1 To

this development

no

instructor,

not even Francois Hotman, the dis

tinguished jurisconsult,

during his conne ction with

the University, had contributed so much as Beza.

The

magnetism

of

the

Reformer's personality,

the

1

Beza

t o

F a r e l , A p r i l 2 9 , 1 5 5 8 , i n

Baum,

doc, i . ,

5 1 9 .

96



1 5 5 8 ]

Becomes Calvin's Coadjutor 97

profound

impression

made from the

very start by

his

wonderful

erudition,

his

wide

a c q ua i nt a nc e wi th

classical

as well as

sacred

antiquity, his growing

reputation

not

only as

a

controversialist, but as a

man honoured, in the councils of the lead ing Pro

testant powers of Switzerland and Germany and

entrusted

with

the

advocacy of

the

claims of

the

persecuted

both of

France

and

Piedmont,—l l

enhanced

in

the

eyes of

the studious the

attraction

of

the sc hool

of

l ea rning of

which

he

was

a

chief

ornament.

Why, then, d id Beza consent to

leave a

position

so enviable and of su ch extensive usefulness ? The

answer to the q ues tion

i s found

p artly, at l e a s t , i n

the

unfortunate

condition

of discord and embarrass

ment

of the Church of Lausanne. The union of

Church and State, always a source, i f

not

of a ctua l,

yet certainly of pos s ible

trouble, i s most

productive

of mischief in a region which i t s e l f i s dependent

upon another region,

i t s superior

by

right of conquest

or

by some

other form of

proprietorship. The nat

ural and healthy development of

the

Reformation

at Lausanne was

hampered by

the suzerainty

of

Bern. I t might

p e rh a p s have triumphed ov er the

lukewarmness

or

positive

enmity

of

the

irreligious

part of

the

subject

city

;

i t was

impotent

when

that

element

of the population

was

encouraged by the

avowed determination

of

the paramount authority

to tolerate no innovation in

the

acce pted order of

things.

The Reformer, Pierre Viret, had, many years

before, taken an important part in the preparatory

work

that led to

the religious change

of

Geneva in

7





1 5 5 8 ] Becomes

Calvin's

Coadjutor 99

model State

and

Church

of

Christendom.

Instead

of

the

promiscuous

admission

to

the

Lord s

Supper

of a l l applicants,

whatever

their

knowledge

or ig

norance, their consistency

or inconsistency of

d e

portment, he demanded

the erection

of a Church

consistory,

or session, with

power

of discipline rang

ing

from the

mildest

admonition

even

to formal ex

communication. The better and more earnest part of

the people, especially the

fugitives

from persecution

in France, welcomed his e f f o r t s . But these efforts

met with

strenuous

opposition

from

such of

the in

habitants

of

Lausanne

as looked

back with

regret

to

the days when,

under

the rul e of the

former

bishops

of the place,

there was

l i t t l e

or

no inquiry into the

l i f e

of the l a i t y ,

or even of

the

clergy.

The resident

representatives

of

Bern gave to Viret' s opponents

the

su p port

of

their

authority. With

a

view

to

the

removal

of

exciting topics

from the pulpit, Bern

particularly

forbade the public discussion

of

the

subject of Predestination. Four clergymen of

Thonon, believing i t to

be their

duty, despite

the

prohibition, to p re a ch on the d oc trine in

question,

were deprived

of their places by

the

government.

The c l a s s i s

of

Bern replied

by

demanding freedom

of

preaching

and

a

form

of

Church government

not

unl ike tha t

of

Geneva, declaring

that unless

i t were

granted they could not with a clear conscience con

tinue to exerc is e their churchly

functions. There

upon the chief magistrate and

council

of Bern

resolved to show

the

world who was master in

the

Pays de

Vaud, and formally cited by name a l l

the

preachers

and professors

to

appear

in person before



ioo Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

them

in the city

of

Bern, on

or

before a given date,

to

receive

an

answer

to

the

"

articles

"

in

which

their

demands

had

been couched.

So

rough

a

summons

addressed

to the clergy

and professors of

the

subject

city

was i t s e l f an

indignity

;

the

answer which they

received

amounted

almost

to p os itiv e insult. For

while

Viret

and his

associates

were graciously

in

formed

that they might p re a ch about

Predestination

i f they had a

natural

occasion

to

do so and

i f

they

preached in a moderate and edifying manner, they

were

not

encouraged to

look

for any such improve

ment

in the a d minis tra tion of the Church as they

had declared indispensable to

the

continuance of

the

discharge of their o f f i c e s .

In

f a c t ,

the Bernese

council

demanded a categorical reply, upon the

morrow, as to what

the

pastors and

professors

in

tended

to

do.

They,

moreover,

intimated

that,

i f

the

latter

persisted in the

declaration

they

had

made

to the effect

that

in

case

a l l their requests were not

granted they must

a s k

leave to lay down their

o f f i c e s ,

they would not only be allowed to do so,

but forthwith be banished from the country.

Beza,

himself no f riend of

extreme measures,

had

originally d i s a p p rove d

Viret's

course and

main

tained a

middle ground,

entertaining

relations

of

kindly intercourse with

both

parties. He

doubtless

hoped that, in the c ourse

of

time

and

without re

sort to a n attitude of such pronounced hostility to

the

ruling

power, the

desired advantages

might

be

secured through the mild er methods of

persuasion

and greater

enlightenment.

That he

was

lukewarm

or

underrated

the

importance

of

the points

upon



1 5 5 8 ] Becomes

Calvin's Coadjutor 1 01

which Viret insisted, i s disproved not only by his

subsequent

attitude

when

at

the

head

of

the

Church

of Geneva,

but by the vigour, zeal,

and

ability with

which in this very year (1558) he maintained in an

extended answer to Sebastian Castalio, that the

doctrine of the everlasting predestination of God i s

the

sole foundation of man's salvation.1 He had

been induced, reluctantly

and

against

his

better

judgment, to acquiesce in the c ourse taken

by

his

more radical

brethren,

l e s t

he might

appear

to

have

deserted

them at a c r i t i c a l juncture. He thus

came to share i n t he hum il ia ti ng journey to Bern

and

the

insolent

treatment

at

the

hands of

the

chief

magistrate

and council. These l a s t circumstances,

however, were not needed to complete Beza's dis

gust with

the

situation of

a f f a i r s at

Lausanne. Long

before their occurrence, he had fully made up his

mind to sever his relations

with

the

University

and

to a c cept

the

more congenial work to

which C a l vin

invited him

and

in the discharge of

which

he

had

the

alluring prospect of a ss oc ia tion with

the

great

Reformer whom of a l l men

he honoured

and loved

most." Viret might be annoyed at the determina-

1

I t

i s

t h e

t r e a t i s e

e n t i t l e d

"

Ad

S e b a s t i a n i

C a s t e l l i o n i s

c a l u m n i a s , "

e t c . , r e p r i n t e d i n t h e c o l l e c t e d T r a c t . T h e o l o g . , i . , 3 3 7 - 4 2 4 .

2 The c i t a t i o n t o Bern was d a t e d on t h e f i r s t o f A u g u s t , 1 5 5 8 . S e e

t h e document i n Baum, i . , 3 4 8 . B e z a , i n a l e t t e r t o C a l v i n w r i t t e n

o n t h e

t w e n t y - f o u r t h

o f t h e p r e c e d i n g November, had a l r e a d y b e

t r a y e d h i s d i s a p p r o b a t i o n o f V i r e t ' s

methods and

h i s i n t e n t i o n

t o

u s e

h i s

own

freedom more f u l l y t h a n h e r e t o f o r e ( i b i d . , i . , 3 4 9 ) . A l e t t e r

o f C a l v i n , August 2 9 , 1 5 5 8 , i n f o r m s

u s

t h a t B e z a , h a v i n g s e n t on h i s

h o u s e h o l d e f f e c t s b e f o r e h i m , was e x p e c t e d i n Geneva w i t h i n two

d a y s . C a l v i n i O p e r a , x v i i . , 3 0 8 .



io2 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

tion of his colleague, and might blame him for

abandoning

a

post which Viret

himself

had

by

his

ill-judged course contributed to make

unendurable

for

a

high-spirited gentleman, indeed, for

a

man of

ordinary self-respect

;

he c ould not

induce Beza to

reconsider

his

action

or

consent to prolong

his

stay

i n a city where he might look for the rep etition of

scenes

su ch as

he

had of

late

witnessed.

The event

f ul ly jus tif ied

his

action. Within

a

few months,

Viret

and

the

greater part

of

his

associates

in

Church

and

University were themselves reduced to the

necessity of following Beza's example. Within that

time

the

decadence

of the institution to

which

Beza's learning

had

lent a temporary

lustre set

i n .

Thus Lausanne lost i t s great opportunity of p er

manently

possessing the school

for

the training

of

the Christian athletes who were to achieve wonders

in

the c aus e

of

French

Protestantism

down to the

time of

the disastrous Revocation

of

the E d i ct o f

Nantes (1685). How, after

that

event, Lausanne

regained

a

certain prestige in

the

times of

the

Church of

the Desert, i t does not

belong to us to

relate here."

As for Beza himself, he said nothing, either at

the

time

or

subsequently,

that

might

seem

to

reflect

upon Pierre Viret, a man who had in the p a st de

served well of

the Reformation,

and was destined

s t i l l

to

do good

service, both

i n

Geneva

and in

the

Church

of Lyons,

a

man to whom he

was

attached

1 S e e t h e a c c o u n t o f t h e e s t a b l i s h m e n t o f t h e t h e o l o g i c a l

s e m i n a r y

o f Lausanne by Antoine

C o u r t ,

i n 1 7 3 0 ,

i n my

h i s t o r y , The Hugue

n o t s and

t h e

R e v o c a t i o n of

t h e E d i c t

of N a n t e s ,

i i . , 4 6 2 , 4 6 3 .







1 5 5 8 ] Becomes Calvin's Coadjutor 103

by

strong

t i e s of

affection. In

his

letter to

Wolmar,

within

a

year

and

a

half

l a t e r ,

he

confines

himself

to

t he s ta tem ent ,

that at

the

end of his stay

at

Lau

sanne, he returned, with the kind

consent

of the

council of Bern, to Geneva, partly because he was

desirous of

giving

himself wholly to

theology,

partly

for

other

reasons

which i t

was

unnecessary

to re

hearse. And he adds that, not so much of his own

choice, as by

the advice

of men of great eminence,

he

was

induced

at

Geneva

to

undertake

the

office

of

the

sacred

ministry.1

In

Geneva Theodore Beza

was

at l a s t

in the spot

where for years, because of his increasing friendship

and

intimacy

with John Calvin,

he

had found his

chief

intellectual

and

moral sup port and

sympathy.

Geneva i s not distant much over thirty miles in a

straight

line from

Lausanne,

and

the lake,

then as

now, afforded

an

easy and pleasant

route. The

proximity of

the

two c i t i e s to one another had en

couraged

the

younger

man to make

frequent

v i s i t s

to his old schoolfellow,

now

become a n

associate

i n

the

work of

the

Reformation. I t was time, how

ever,

that

two such kindred s p i r i t s should no longer

be

separated

even

by so t r i f l i n g a

distance. There

c a n

be

no

doubt

that

irrespective of

his

plans

for

making use of

Theodore

Beza's extraordinary

scholarship for

the

upbuilding of his projected uni

versity,

C a l vin

had before this

begun

to look to Beza

as

the most suitable

man to

succeed

to

the great

and multiform duties which Providence had thrown

upon him. I t

i s

true that C al vin him sel f was not

1 S e e Appendu,



io4 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i 9 -

yet

f i f t y years old, and

might,

so far as age

was

con

cerned,

have

had

the

prospect

of

a

long

course

of

activity. But his constitution, never robust, was

enfeebled

by prodigious

study and

devotion

to

the

claims of

others. At an age when many a scholar

i s f u l l of strength and vigour,

C a l vin

thought i t

none too

soon

to seek

for a younger man

to be

a

sharer

of his

t o i l

and

the prospective heir

of

a n in

heritance of unremitting

solicitude

for

the welfare

of

the churches.

The p l a n of Calvin for the "

Academie

of Geneva

contemplated nothing

less than

the

erection

of

a

true university

— daring undertaking in a

l i t t l e

commonwealth of a few thousand souls, poor in

resources,

and

threatened by powerful

neighbours.

The founders were compelled to solve a d i f f i c u l t

problem

as

to

the sourc e

from

which

the

necessary

funds

could be obtained. I t i s

a significant

circum

stance

that

contemporaneously with the p u r ch a s e of

a

site for

the

school, there

was

published

an

order

of

the m a gi stra te s

of

the l i t t l e republic, command

ing a l l notaries to exhort those persons who might

thereafter employ them to draw up

w i l l s ,

to make

bequests

for

the

institution.1 As Geneva had

hitherto

possessed

no

school

for

higher

learning,

a

"

College," or Gymnasium, was also

created,

for

the

purpose

of affording preparatory

training

for

the

1 " On t h e 1 7 t h o f January [ 1 5 5 8 ] , " s a y s

an

e x t r a c t

from

t h e p u b l i c

r e c o r d s o f t h e r e p u b l i c o f

G e n e v a ,

g i v e n by Baum,

i . , 3 5 0 ,

"a

c o l

l e g e

was

e s t a b l i s h e d . A c o l le g e [ b ui l d i ng ]

was e r e c t e d

a t

L e s Hutins

d e Bolomier

;

s e v e n c l a s s e s

were

s t a r t e d , and t h r e e

p r o f e s s o r s i n s t i

t u t e d :

one

i n t h e o l o g y ,

o n e i n

p h i l o s o p h y ,

and o n e i n

G r e e k .

Order

was

g i v e n

t o

a l l

n o t a r i e s

t o

e x h o r t

t e s t a t o r s

t o

g i v e

t o

t h e

c o l l e g e . "



1 5 5 9 ] Becomes Calvin's Coadjutor 105

Academie, or University

proper,

thus

replacing a

more

modest

school

once

taught

by

Mathurin

Cor-

derius, of whom I

have already spoken, a

scholar

whose

Colloquies

were

long

in vogue, as

a

manual

for

the

d r i l l of

the

young

in the familiar use

of

the

Latin

language. The

study of

Latin literature

was

assiduously

pursued

in the

College and

found no

p l ace

in the

Academic

In the latter a

close ac

q ua i nt a nc e wi th the exclusive

tongue of

the

learned

was

an

absolute

prerequisite;

for

who could

profit

by

instruction given in a

language

which

he under

s tood not

at

a l l or but

imperfectly

? Of the de part

ments

of

a university only the School of

Theology

was

at

f i r s t

instituted, and

of

this Theodore

Beza

was the f i r s t head

or

Rector. It

was hoped that

other schools

would soon be

added , and

indeed the

anticipation was partially

realised;

but the efforts

made in this direction were spasmodic

and short

lived. A School of Medicine in a small town or

village encounters insuperable difficulties

through

the

lack of

large hospitals

and of

clinical

instruction.

To encourage the study of medicine at Geneva, i t i s

true,

a law

was

p a s se d i n 1564, five

years

after

the

establishment of the University, which permitted

the

d is sec tion of

the

bodies

of

criminals

executed

for their

offences

and

even

of

the

corpses of

patients

that

died

at

the city

hospital.1 But

the

provision

was inadequate even in an a ge which

sent

men

to

the ga ll ows or to

the

block for a great variety of

crimes, and

in which the

laws of health

were

very

imperfectly

known or observed. Three years

l a t e i

1 A r t i c l e o f

P r o f e s s o r C el l e ri er , a s b e l o w ,

B u l l . ^

i v . ,



io6


(1567), Beza, in asking the prayers of the pastors of

Zurich, drew special attention to

the new

medical

department

of

the

University.1

The

study of Law

fared better than that of Medicine, but the eminent

teachers that

were

called to lec ture

were

very

i n

adequately compensated for their work or

proved

restless for other reasons, and made but

a

short

tarry. This was

the

case with Hotman, after

the

Massacre

of

Saint Bartholomew's

Day

(1572).

The

School

of

Theology and

i t s

teachers

fared

better.

Yet the

narrowness of

the

provision for their

s up

port, which ha s been estimated as t he e qui va le nt of

one thousand francs, or

two hundred

dollars of

our

present money, was not without i t s discouraging

e f f e c t . "

The solemn

opening

of

the

institution took p l ace

on June

5 ,

1 5 5 9 , in the s p ac ious cathedral of the

c i t y , in the presence

of

the two

syndics and

of the

members

of

the

council of Geneva.

The services

were

impressive.

On this

oc ca sion Beza ,

who

had

at his arrival been merely

constituted public

p ro

fessor of Greek literature, but had subsequently been

chosen

(October 1 5 , 1558) to p re a ch the Gospel and

requested to continue his lectures on the S acred

Scriptures,

was

formally

proclaimed

Rector,

and in

ducted into

o f f i c e . 3

A few months

l a t e r ,

on

November 9 , 1559,

he

1

I n e d i t e d l e t t e r

t o

B u l l i n g e r

o f March 1 2 , 1 5 6 7 . Copy

i n

Baum

c o l l e c t i o n , L i b r a r y o f French P r o t . H i s t . S o c i e t y a t P a r i s .

8

A r t i c l e

" L'Academie d e

Geneve,"

by

P r o f e s s o r

J . E . C e l l e r i e r .

i n

t h e B u l l . , i v .

( 1 8 5 5 ) ,

1 5— v a l u a b l e monograph.

3 S e e h i s a d d r e s s i n C a l v i n i

O f . ,

x v i i . , 5 4 2 — 5 4 7 ,



r 5 5 9 ]

Becomes

Calvin's Coadjutor 107

subscribed

his name

to the laws

of

the

Academie,

and

to

the

Confession

of

Faith

of

the

Church

of

the

c i t y .

The

signature, Theodorus

Beza Vezelius

scholae rector,"

may

s t i l l be read

either

in the

origi

na l Livre du Recteur, or in the faithful

transcript

of

the

manuscript which ha s been printed in our own

days.1

The

name

i s followed by the

signatures

of

Antoine C av al lier, of Vire i n Normandy, professor

of Hebrew; of Jean Tagaut, of Paris, professor of

Arts, or

Philosophy;

and

of

Francois

Beraud,

of

Paris,

professor of Greek.

The

l a s t

two

had

been

colleagues

of

Beza at

Lausanne

and had already

f o l

lowed him to Geneva. Others were

yet

to come.

But with these we

have

nothing

to

do here. As

to

Beza he

began at

once to devote

himself to

theo

logy. Calvin had for years been teaching this same

subject, and

he continued to

do so,

although he

was

never formally

inscribed

as

a professor.

How

they divided

the

instruction

between

them i s

not

quite

certain

;

but i t must have been

as Calvin,

the

author

of

the

entire

scheme,

had

arranged. The

instruction of both was essentially exegetical. Ca l

vin and Beza at

f i r s t

confined

themselves

to

the

sim ple

interpretation

of

the

books of

the

Bible, and

successively

lectured

upon

them

in

alternate

weeks.

At a

l a t e r . time, while

one of

the two

professors c on

tinued

to devote himself to exeg es is , his

colleague

treated

in

his

lectures

of

the

common places,"

or

systematic theology."

1 Le

Livre

du R e c t e u r . C a t a l o g u e d e s I L t u d i a n t s d e l ' A c a d e m i e

d e

Geneve

d e

1 5 5 9

a 1 8 5 9 . G e n e v e , i 8 6 0 .

2 P r o f e s s o r

C e l l e r i e r ,

o p . c i t . . 1 5 .



to8


Self-sacrifice was the l a w of the school. The

s a l a r i e s ,

always

inadequate to

the

sup port of

the

incumbents of the chairs, were

neither

regularly

nor fully paid. In times of public c alamity we

shall see Theodore Beza continuing to teach with

out compensation,

and, indeed,

taking upon

his

shoulders

the burden of the entire school,

until

the

return of better d ays . And

in

a l l periods of

the

history

of

the

Academie of

Geneva, from

Calvin's

time

to

ours,

so

high

ha s

been

the

credit

of

this

seat

of learning that men eminent in science have, we

are told, ac cepted as

a

great honour

the

position of

teaching professors. Twice, too, within

a

s p a c e of

sixty

years, professors raised to

the

rank of

the

f i r s t

magistrate of the republic have continued,

despite

this high dignity,

to

instruct their students.1

These students, writing their names below the

signatures

of

the

professors

whom

I

have

named

upon

the

Livre du Recteur, at f i r s t ,

like their in

structors,

subscribed

to

the

doctrines of

the

Con

fession of Faith of

the

Church of Geneva. This

practice continued

from 1 5 5 9

to

1 5 7 6 , when, under

the presidency of Beza, and no doubt

with

his f u l l

ap proval,

the

Venerable Company of

the

Pastors

of

the

city

relieved

the

young

men

of

the

obligation

:

"

inasmuch," say the minutes,

"

as t h i s [subscription]

deprives Papists and Lutherans of the opportunity t o

come

and

receive

p r o f i t from

t h i s

church, and

inasmuch

a s

i t does not seem reasonable t o

press

a f t e r t h i s fashion

a conscience that

i s resolved not t o sign what

i t

does not

understand. Moreover the Saxons [Lutherans]

have

1 C e l l e r i e r , 7 1 . T he r e f e r e n c e i s t o P r o f e s s o r s L e c t and G o d e f r o y .



1 5 5 9 ]

Becomes Calvin's Coadjutor

109

taken advantage of t h i s ordinance to compel

our

s t u

dents

that

go

to

them

to

sign

the

Confession

of Augs

burg." 1

C a l vin had

well

selected

his colleague

and succes

s o r .

As

uns paring of himself,

as

indefatigable i n

labour, as devoted to the interests of the faith which

he had

embraced

as was his

master,

Beza of a l l men

living

was best

qualified

to

carry

out

what

Calvin

had initiated.

Geneva

and

the

world

hardly

realised

the change when the

direction

of a f f a i r s

passed,

after

a comp aratively brief interval, from the hands of

the

one

to the

other.

For Beza, while

no

blind

partisan and no servile imitator,

had heartily ac

ce pted the

system

of Calvin,

and had

become so

thoroughly imbued with his s p i r i t , that there was

no perceptible

break

in the influence

which emanated

from

the

l i t t l e

city

upon

the Rhone. Meanwhile,

even before Calvin's removal, that inf l uen ce seemed

to be doubled by the

accession

of Beza as Calvin's

coadjutor,

and Beza

did

for France

what Calvin

himself could

not have

ac comp lished.

1 I b i d . ,

2 2 .



CHAPTER

VII

BEZA AT NERAC

1 5 6 0

HE c r i s i s

was fast

approaching at which Theo-

1 dore

Beza was

to be called to

take

a more

active part

in the a f f a i r s

of

Protestantism

than was

offered

by

embassies

in behalf

of persecuted Vau-

dois. Before long the French

court,

indeed France

entire,

was

to

witness

his coming

as

an

ad vocate

of

the professors

of

the

doctrines

which men s t i l l p er

sisted in contemptuously stigmatising as " new,

and

was to

hear

from

his l i p s

the f i r s t

great p lea

uttered

in defence

of

those doctrines.

Meanwhile

an

incident oc curred, at

f i r s t

sight

of

e v a ne s ce nt i mp or ta nc e,

but

destined to

exercise

a

lasting influence both upon Beza's

l i f e

and upon the

course

of at least

one

great

personage

in

France.

Toward

the close of the brief

reign

of

Francis

I I . ,

after the con cl us ion of the famous

Assembly

of the

Notables

at Fontainebleau, Antoine of Bourbon,

titular

King

of Navarre,

was

sojourning i n the city

of Nerac i n the province of Guyenne, of which he

was governor by appointment of

the

King of France.

Here

he

deliberated

with

his

most

trusted

support-



ANTOINE DE

BOURBON, K I N O OF

N A V A R R E .



OFT̂ K̂,

. . . . y E R S I TY

)

OF / '



Beza at Nerac

in

ers respecting the position which he should

assume

i n

the

distracted

state

of

the

kingdom.

The

Huguenots, as

the Protestants

of

the

realm had,

within a few months, begun to be nicknamed, were

making

such rapid progress that

the

P a p a l Church

trembled for

the c ons eq uen ces .

In

the

late As

sembly, Admiral

Coligny

spoke boldly in favour of

a frank concession of religious liberty and advocated

a complete c es sa tion of persecution. Others sup

ported

his

views

and

did

not

quail

in

face

of

the

defiant attitude and

threatening

words of

the Duke

of Guise and his partisans. Antoine had held aloof

and had

not been present

at

the

discussions.

Though

cowardly and unstable,

he had

given and

s t i l l gave men reason to

believe that

he sympathised

with the Reformed and would uphold their cause.

When, therefore, Theodore

Beza

received at Geneva

a

very pressing

invitation from

the

King and

the

Queen of Navarre to v i s i t Nerac and give them the

benefit of his counsel, i t

seemed

impossible to de

c l i n e . The Venerable Company of the Pastors of

Geneva

"

cheerfully approved his

going, while pru

d en tl y r ec or di ng upon their

minutes

a sim p le state

ment that,

on

the 20th

of July,

our

brother,

Monsieur

de

Beze,

was

sent

to Guyenne

to

the

King

and Queen of Navarre, for

the

purpose of instructing

them

in the

Word of God. 1 Nor

did Beza, in

his

efforts to

f u l f i l

the

part

of

his

mission which in their

c aution the ministers

had

refrained from mention

ing,

neglect

the

rare opportunity afforded

him to

work

for

the more purely religious end

which they

1 Baum, i i . , no.



ii2

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 0 -

had

p ut

prominently

forward. Consternation f e l l

upon

the

opponents

of

Protestantism

when

they

learned that

Beza

had

from the

pulpit preached

publicly before

his

royal auditors the very doctrines

for the

profession

of which men and women

had

for

so many weary years

been

subjected to a l l forms of

punishment, even to

burning to death.

But

Beza's activity

was

not confined to t he p u rel y

religious

sphere. For the

f i r s t time

he

had

the op

portunity

to

di s p lay

the

abilities

of

a

clear-sighted

man of a f f a i r s . He was the best

adviser

of Antoine

of Bourbon.

His

voice

rose

in protest

against

the

insidious

projects

of

the court. When, at the

in

stigation

of

the

Guises,

the

King

of

Navarre

was

urged to

comply

with

the

command

given in the

name of Francis I I . to

come

northward and to bring

with him his

younger

brother

Louis

of

Bourbon,

Prince of Conde, in order that the latter might have

an

opportunity

to

clear

himself of

the

grave

accusa

tions

of

which he

was the

object, no one opposed

the foolhardy

venture

more

strenuously than

Beza.

His words were l i t t l e heed ed . Antoine, as credul

ous as

he

was

inconstant,

preferred to listen

to

the

suggestions

of Cardinal

Bourbon, who came on the

unfraternal

errand

of

luring

his

two

brothers

to

their

destruction.

Before setting

out,

indeed, the

same

king

who, a few weeks since,

had

not dissembled

his aversion

to the Mass

and avowed his

preference

for

the

Communion

as

celebrated

by the Protestants

under both forms, was

seen approving

by his

p re

sence

the

Roman

ceremonial of the Ma s s ,

and

com

pelling the attendance

of his

l i t t l e son, the

future



Beza at

Nerac

Henry IV. Deaf to the s ug ges tion of his friends

that,

i f

go

he

must,

he

should

proceed

to court

under the protection of a powerful escort, he p er

s is ted in declining

the repeated

offers made to him

successively, at

various

points in his

journey,

of

the

thousands of men that could be brought to him

from

Poitou

and Gascony, from

Provence

and Lan-

guedoc, in the

south,

and from Normandy in the

north. He fancied himself safe in trusting the p er

s on

of

Conde

and

his

own

person

to

the

most

p er

fidious of personal enemies. Conde, strange

to

say,

for

the

time partook of his delusion. Neither

awoke to

the

danger until

i t was too l a t e .

That in

the

end

they e s c a p e d the fate

to

which

one, i f

not

both, of

them seemed likely to be

consigned,

was

due to no

foresight

of

theirs, but to a circumstance

beyond the reac h

of

human prescience

—he

speedy

and

sudden

death of

t he boy - ki ng ,

Francis I I . 1

The

Cardinal

of Lorraine had endeavoured to

p e r s u a d e Antoine to bring to court in his train the

Genevese theologian,

as well,

apparently,

as the

famous jurisconsult Francois Hotman,

and

others

of his Protestant advisers. However, neither Beza

nor

Hotman had any ta ste for

the

adventure. Beza

accompanied

the

Bourbon

princes

only

a

part

of

the

way, possibly as far as to

Limoges,

and then struck

out,

through

a

country far

from safe, in the direc

tion

of Geneva.

Hotman

took

some

other way.

Both

had

heavy hearts, because both seemed

to

have laboured i n vain.2 Before Beza there stretched

1 S e e R i s e of t h e Huguenots, i . , 4 3 5 - 4 4 4 .

a Hotman

t o

P e t e r

M a r t y r ,

Nov. 2 0 , 1 5 6 0 ,

i n

Baum, i i . , 1 2 1 .



ii4 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i 9 -

a journey that would

have occu pied

many

days

under

the

most

auspicious circumstances.

He

must

travel

unobserved,

and therefore

i n disguise,

and

by

night.1

Under

the

kind protection of Heaven,

he

e s c a p e d

every danger, and safely reached Geneva, where his

friends,

ignorant of his

fortunes,

had well-nigh

de

spaired of

seeing

him again.

His short

absence

of a l i t t l e over three months

was not so barren

of permanent advantage as

at the

time

he,

and

perhaps

his

friends

also,

imagined.

Until now Jeanne d'Albret, Queen of

Navarre,

had

been timid. While

her husband seemed

to

burn with zea l f or the Reformation, s he was reserved

and

cold. Sagacious

and discerning,

she

weighed

the

dangers that

invested

a n

espousal of

Protestant

ism. The

principality

of

Bearn and

the rest

of

the

kingdom of

Navarre

on

the

northern

slope

of

the

Pyrenees

were after

a l l

but a

contracted

territory

in

a

peculiarly exposed situation.

Her ancestors

had

not been able to protect the

grea ter p a rt

of

their possessions from

S p a n i s h

rapacity. How

should she, a woman,

rescue

the small remainder,

were she to inc ur the enmity of the P a p a l See by a

change

of faith

? What more effective way

than

this

to

invite

invasion

from

without

and

insurrection

from

within ? Yet

just

i n t he p r op or ti on that An-

toine's

fervour cooled,

did her own

ardour r i s e to a

glowing

heat. Immediately

after Beza's v i s i t

to

Nerac, and, i t

would seem,

greatly

as a

consequence

of

his

exposition

of

the

Word

of

God,

she came

to a

1 D e Thou, i i . , 8 2 7 .



JEANNE

D ' A L B R E T , QUEEN

OF N A V A R R E .





1 5 6 o ] Beza at Nerac 115

decision

from

which

during

a l l

the

rest of

her

l i f e

she

never

swerved.

The story

i s best told

in

the

sim ple

narrative

of the

history of

the Reformed

Churches

of

France composed, i f not by Beza, at

least under his supervision

:

"

The

Queen of Navarre, a f t e r the departure of the

king

her husband,

withdrew to

Bearn,

where

she

r e

ceived

within a few

days

tidings of

the

a r r e s t of the

Prince

[ o f

Conde]

a t

Orleans,

and

of

the

conspiracy

against her

husband, as

well

as

of c ertain conferences

held

i n

Spain having

i n

view the

surprise

of her princi

p a l i t y

of Beam and the remnant of Navarre. Seeing

then that the t r u s t which

she

ha d reposed i n man wa s

l o s t , a nd

that

a l l

human help f a i l e d h e r ,

and

being

touched

t o the quick by the

love

of

God,

she

ha d r e

course

t o

Him i n a l l

humility,

with c r i e s and t e a r s , a s

her

sole refuge,

and

solemnly

declared

her

purpose

t o

keep

H is

commandments. Thus

wa s

i t t h a t ,

i n

the time

of her

greatest

t r i b u l a t i o n , she

made

public profession

of

the pure

doctrine,

being

strengthened

i n her intention

by Francois l e Guay, otherwise known a s Bois Normand,

a nd N. Henri,

f a i t h f u l

ministers of God's Word. And

committing

the

issue altogether t o

the divine mercy, she

p ut

on

a v i r i l e

a nd magnanimous

courage,

and started t o

v i s i t

a nd

provision

for

a

long

siege

her stronghol d

of

Navarrenx i n Beam,

which,

i t was rumoured,

the S p a n

iards

intended

t o

s u r p r i s e . There

she heard the news

of the i l l n e s s of the king [Francis

I I . ]

and, soon

a f t e r ,

of h i s death. At Christmas following the

receipt

of t h i s

i n t e l l i g e n c e , she again made a

f u l l and clear confession

of

her

f a i t h a nd

partook

of the Lord's Supper.

Very

soon

thereafter

she

sent t o the king [Charles IX.]

her

aforesaid

Confession

of

Faith

composed

by

h e r s e l f ,

a nd



n6 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i 9 -

written

and

signed with her

own

hand; for she

was

of a

singularly

f i n e

mind.

1

Certainly

i t

was

worth a l l

the

trouble which Beza

took

and

a l l the dangers he encountered

by

the way

to know that he had contributed to br in g t he mother

of Henry

IV.

to so resolute a stand. Nor i s i t

strange,

in

view of a l l

the

circumstances, that Beza,

when referring to this v i s i t , in the

dedication

to

Henry

IV.

of

a

treatise

published

in

1 5 9 1 ,

should

have

remarked: Moreover,

Sire,

I am myself

one

of

those

that had

the

grace from

the

Almighty to

be

called and received and

attentively

heard,

p ro

c la iming the word

of

my

Master,

in your royal

house of Nerac, thirty-one

years

ago. 2

As

for

Theodore

Beza,

he

had shown that

he

was

not

only

a

devoted

Protestant,

but

an

able

states

man as well. I t

was

through no fault of his that

Antoine did

not

p r es ent him s el f

at the French

court

with

a

body

of

men

sufficient to

enforce

the demand

for

a

righteous

performance of

the promises made

at Fontainebleau by a royal council which, while

outwardly a p proving , had no honest

intention

to

execute i t s engagements.3

From

this

time

forth

the

eyes

of

the

Protestants

of France

were

fixed upon Theodore Beza. When

the

c r i t i c a l

moment

arrived that demanded

a

man

both

ardent in his

religious convictions

and eminent

i n his theological attainments,

a

man firm and

un-

1

H i s t o i r e

E c c U s i a s t i q u e d e s £ . g l i s e s R e " f o r m / e s , e d . Baum and

C u n i t z ( P a r i s , 1 8 8 3 ) , i . , 3 7 0 .

8

E x t r a c t i n Baum, i i . , 1 2 5 .

'

S e e

R i s e

of

t h e

Huguenots

\

i . ,

4 3 4 .



I 5 6 0 J

117

eza at

Nerac

flinching in the advocacy of the Protestant f a i t h , a

man

in the constitution

of

whose character courage

and prudence were singularly well balanced, i t was

no fortuitous

thing

that Theodore

Beza was

sum

moned to assume an important part with high

ex

pectations regarding his

success,

which, as

the sequel

proved, were not

to

be disappointed.



CHAPTERVIII

RECALL TO FRANCE

1

561

THEcontingency

to which

reference was made

at

the

c los e of

the

l a s t chapter arose

in the year

following the incidents therein des cribed. I t i s im

portant

therefore

to

form some

conception

of the

France

to which the Reformer

was

now o f f i c i a l l y

invited to

return

after

an

expatriation

of

thirteen

years,

interrupted only by the

short v i s i t to

Nerac.

For his

native

land

had

undergone

a

series of won

derful changes,

the

most wonderful of them a l l

within

the

brief compass of

the

l a s t few

months

preceding his return.

When Beza withdrew secretly from Paris in 1 548,

he forsook a

country governed

with a

strong

hand,

i f

not

in

fact by

a

monarch

of

mature

years,

at

l e a s t ,

i n his name and under his legitimate authority, by

the

f a vourites to

whom he

chose to delegate

the

en

t i r e management of a f f a i r s .

Francis

I .

had then

been in

his grave

but

a

year. The reign

of

the

monarch

whose

chief claim to recognition, whose

sole pretence

to

be called " great,"

was

that, as

patron of letters and scholars, he aspired to be the

1 1 8



1 5 6 o ] Recall to

France 119

representative

of

the s p i r i t of the Renaissance, had

gone

out

ingloriously

i n

the

glare

of

the

burning

villages

of the Vaudois of Cabrieres

and

Merindol,

and

amid

the lurid flames

of

the holocaust of the

" Fourteen roasted

alive

on

the

squares of Meaux.

Proscription

of

the "

Lutheran

heres y "

and of a l l

sus pected of being tainted with i t ,

was

the watch

word of

the

l a s t years

of

a p rince

who was

at one

time believed to

favour

what

were

s t i l l styled

the

new

doctrines," des pite

the

stout

assertions

of their

advocates

that they

were but " the

old doctrines

"

of

the Church restated.

I f the

Reformed doctrines

made

any progress

during the twelve years of

Henry

I I . ,

they made

i t

in defiance of the p ers ona l hatred of the king and

of

a

systematic legislation

of

the most severe

and

sanguinary character. Yet the

advance was

both

rapid and substantial. Of this the most satisfactory

proof

i s

found in the exc es ses

of

the

inquisitorial

tribunal erected by

the

judges of

the P arliament

of

Paris. That tribunal, from the

facility

and regular

ity

with

which i t sent i t s victims to

the

flames, came

to

be

familiarly

designated

as

the Chambre Ar-

dente.

The

rec ent f ortunate discovery and publi

cation

of

the

original

records

of

i t s

proceedings

1

gives,

in

f a c t ,

the

impression that one half of

the

atrocities

of

the

famous

court

had

not

been

told

and

that po pu l a r rumour

did injustice to the

activity

rather than

to

the humanity of i t s members.

1

By Mr. N.

W e i s s ,

i n h i s

Chambre Ardente

: I z t u d e sur l a

L i b e r t e

d e C o n s c i e n c e e n France s o u s F r a n c o i s I e r e t

Henry

II, 1340-1350

( P a r i s , 1 8 8 9 ) . Mr.

Weiss

d i s c o v e r e d a b o u t f i v e hundred s e n t e n c e s

g i v e n

by

t h e

P a r l i a m e n t

o f P a r i s

from

May,

1 5 4 7 ,

t o

March,

1 5 5 0 ,



i2o

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

That

Protestantism actually grew, instead

of

being

destroyed

root

and

branch,

was

patent

evidence

that

i t p os s es s ed e xt ra or di na ry vitality. Year by

year

reports

became more

frequent

of whole

provinces

infected

"

by

the

poison of heresy. The c a p

i t a l

i t s e l f contained i t s body of bel iev ers meeting

regularly,

but

with

the

utmost

secrecy. They

had

indeed

been

organised as

a

church, with pastors and

other

o f f i c e r s .

Of

this the

government was

pos

sibly as

ignorant

as

i t

was

ignorant

of

the

fact that,

a few months

before

Henry's death,

a

representative

assembly met

within the walls

of Paris,

composed

of

delegates from different

parts of

the

kingdom,

and adopted

a Confession

of Faith and settled

the

Directory for Worship and the Form of Government

of

the Churches

for

the

time

to

come. But i f Henry

was

not kept fully

informed of these

things by his

spies, he knew, at any rate, that the judges of his

own

high Court of Parliament were

by

no means

sound in the faith as judged by the tests of ortho

doxy.

For

did he not, within a month of his death,

hear

them avow

heterodox sentiments

in

a judicial

conference, and did he not openly declare

that

he

would see

the

guilty burned

before

his eyes

?

The

fatal

thrust

of

the

misdirected

lance

of

Count

Montgomery,

i n

the fatal tourney in

honour of

the

nuptials of Philip I I . of S p a i n and Elizabeth of

France, rendered futile this threat,

by

depriving

Henry both of eyesight and of l i f e . At his death

French

Protestantism entered

upon

a

new

and more

surprising

course

of growth and

development. The

princes and

nobles

that

came

into

power

were,

indeed,





i22 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

and execution

of

here

and there a minister

or

of

some

courageous layman.

But

these

incidents

had

l i t t l e or no permanent e f f e c t .

They did not

arrest

the

advance of a

religion which

confessedly bore

good fruit by promoting

morality

and good

order.

At this juncture

the

government resolved to try

the

experiment

of

convening

a n assembly

of the Nota

bles of the realm, for the p u r pose of obtaining the

best a d vice

for allaying

the prevalent

s p i r i t

of

dis

content.

But

the

Assembly of Fontainebleau (August,

1560),

so far from devising

the means

of su p press

ing the Reformation, gave to the advocates of the

Reformation their f i r s t opportunity to demand

liberty of worship.

Here

i t was that

Admiral Co-

ligny boldly brought forward two petitions, the one

addressed to

the

monarch,

the other

to his mother,

Queen

Catharine

de' Medici, and both

documents

presented in

the name of

" the faithful " of a l l parts

of France. The documents were unsigned, but the

admiral

asserted

that he could secure, i f

necessary,

f i f t y thousand signatures in the single province of

Normandy. They demanded houses for worship

and

the clear recognition

of

the

right to assemble

in

these

houses

for

the

service

of

God.

Here

too

i t

was

that,

a day or

two l a t e r , the same

nobleman

took

the bold

step of

openly espousing the c ause

of

the

Protestant Reformers. At a moment when, under

the law,

s uc h sentim ents as he

uttered

rendered

him

liable to

the capital charge

of

heresy, he

solemnly declared

his

belief that, should the houses

of

worship

be accorded and

should the royal

judges



C O L I G N Y .

F R O M A N O L D E N G R A V I N G I N T H E P R I N T - R O O M , B R I T I S H M U S E U M .





i 5 6 o ] Recall to France 123

be instructed to maintain his Majesty's authority

and

the

p ublic p eace, quiet

and

universal

content

ment would at

once

return. I t was a

notable

c i r

cumstance that

the occasion upon which Admiral

Coligny

pledged l i f e

and

property

to

the belief

that

the

people

in nowise

wished

the crown i l l , the oc

casion upon

which he

warned

the

king's advisers

that i t i s a

perilous thing to

nurture

in the

king a

suspicion

of the-loyalty

of

his

subjects, was a Saint

Bartholomew's Day,

just

twelve

yea rs bef ore

that

inauspicious Sunday

in

August on which

the

grey-

haired Huguenot hero laid down his

l i f e ,

a sacrifice

attesting the

sincerity of his

religious

convictions.

The

next

twelvemonth, the l a s t

that elapsed

be

fore Beza's recall

to

France, was probably more

eventful than any other

period

of eq ua l d ur at ion i n

the

sixteenth century. This

was

certainly

the

fact

so far as the Protestants were concerned. Francis

I I . died after one of

the

briefest reigns in French

history. The

means

devised by the

enemies of

the

Protestants for their destruction, i nc l ud in g th e con

vocation of

the

States-General that were to seal

the

overthrow of

their

protectors, seemed to have been

ordained by

Providence

for

i t s own ulterior and

wiser

ends.

With

the

death

of

their

nephew

the

Guises lost their

undisputed

ascendancy,

and

the

King of Navarre gained a fresh

opportunity

to

vin

dicate his right, as f i r s t

prince

of the blood, to the

regency

of

the

kingdom. How he

was

induced to

throw

away this

advantage and other a d v an t age s

that might have materially affected th e p r og res s of

t he P r ot es ta nt

doctrines, and

what were the

fruits




of his

recreancy,

I

do not

purpose

to state

in detail

in this

place.1

As

i t

was,

the

day

of religious emancipation ap

peared to have dawned. Many incidents of

the

early part of

the

year

1 5 6 1

might

be

cited in evi

dence. One

distinguished Roman

Catholic prelate

made no l i t t l e s t i r by

openly

championing

the

Pro

testant movement.

Cardinal Odet

de Chastillon was

the

elder

brother of

Admiral Coligny.

He had in

his

youth

entered

the

Church,

having

no

leaning

to

the profession of arms. He

had recently

been

making less

and less

of a secret of his f u l l a c cept

ance of

the

doctrines of

the

Reformation. He was

count

and

bishop

of

the

ol d

city

of

Beauvais,

and,

as such, one of the twelve a nc ient p eer s

of

the king

dom. Even thus, however,

he could scarcely de

fend

himself

against the fury of the rabble, when i t

was

noised

abroad

that,

not

content

with

fostering

the

growth of

the

new

doctrines in his diocese,

he had at Easter absented

himself

from his cathe

dral and celebrated

the

g rea t C hris ti an feast in

the

cha pel

of his episcopal palace. There

the

Gospel

had been

preached

and the Holy Communion .ad

ministered after

the

manner of Geneva, though

something

discrepant,"

—

o

use

Sir

Nicholas

Throk-

morton's words,

—

a c h participant receiving both

elements at

the

hands of

the officiating

clergyman.

Naturally

the opposition

originated with

the clergy.

"

Wherewith," pursues the English ambassador, " the

canons

a nd divers of

the

popular people,

not

content,

1 S e e R i s e

of

t h e Huguenots,

i . ,

4 5 1 ,

f o i l . , f o r

a f u l l d i s c u s s i o n .



O D E T , CARDINAL OF C H A S T I L L O N .





1 5 6 i ] Recall to

France

125

murmured and assembled i n great numbers t o have

wrought

their

wicked

w i l l s

upon

the

Cardinal, who

shut

himself and h i s ,

with

divers of the communicants of the

town, within h i s house; yet not

so

speedily but

that

some

were hurt and k i l l e d , a nd one of the townsmen brought

violently before the Cardinal's g a t e , and there burned out

of

hand

without

further proceeding

of

j u s t i c e

i n the

matter."

1

This

was

in April.

Before

the

close

of

the

same

month about one hundred gentlemen and others

gathered

in a house

of

the suburbs of Paris,

near

the

Pre

aux Clercs,

and

there

held

Protestant serv

i c e s . Being

discovered, an

assault

was made

upon

the house by the p op ul ac e, but the besieged

gentle

men

repelled

i t with harquebuses

and

such

other

weapons

as

they

carried.

Seven

or

eight

of

the

assailants were killed before the mob

was tardily

dispersed by the

officers

of justice. A few months

e a r l i e r , the

Protestants would certainly

have been

arrested

and

tried,

and

the sequel

would

have been

a

holocaust

of

victims offered up on the altar

of

re

ligious intolerance. Instead of t h i s , the King of

Navarre, opportunely

coming

to

the

capital in

com

pany

with

Prince

La

Roche sur

Yon,

the

Duke

of

Longueville, and

many other noblemen, to repress

disorders, gave

some

sound ad vice

to

the a uthors

and abettors of

a l l the mischief

to which

the

Parisians were prone. He

called

before him in the

hall of the Louvre, says Throkmorton,

1 Throkmorton t o Queen

E l i z a b e t h , P a r i s , A p r i l 2 0 , 1 5 6 1 . C a l e n

dar

of

S t a t e

Papers

( S t e v e n s o n

e d . ) ,

8 2 - 8 8 .




"

a l l

the

head curates a nd churchwardens of a l l

the

parishes of

the

town

and

two

of

every

religious

house,

with the

regents [professors]

of the

c o l l e g e s ,

exhorting

them i n the king's name t o quietness, and charging

others for seditious preaching a nd rather moving the

people

t o tumults and sedition

than edifying

them."

He assured

them

that

"

when

the

same

should

h a p p e n

hereafter,

the

king

would make them

f e e l

h i s indignation, and

advised them

not

t o molest a ny man living

without

open scandal,

nor

t o

seek

men i n t h e i r

houses, as ha d been

done

a t

the

instigation of some

there present, whom

he knew

a nd

[who] ha d c ha nged

their

own weed under colour of

scholars." 1

Thus wrote

the

envoy to his roya l m is tres s i n

May.

Afew

days

p a s se d

and

her Majesty was i n

formed

of a

s t i l l

more

significant

event.

The solemn

anointing and coronation of young

King Charles

IX.

was du ly

celebrated in the

cathedral

of Rheims

according to

immemorial

usage,

the C ardinal of

Lorraine, as archbishop of the city, officiating and

saying ma s s ,

and

the twelve peers

of

the kingdom

assisting. But

no

inconsiderable

number

of

the

nobles, and these among

the

most powerful, ab

sented themselves, and their absence was known to

be for no other rea s on than their unwillingness to

countenance a worship which

they

had

come to

re

pudiate as idolatrous. Of

the number

were

the

Prince

of

Conde, Admiral Coligny,

the

Duke of

1 Throkmorton

t o

Queen

E l i z a b e t h ,

Ma y 4 ,

1 5 6 1 .

I b i d . ,

9 6 .



1 5 6 i ] Recall to France 127

Longueville, Marshal

Montmorency,

and

his

brother

Damville.

Moreover

men

noticed

that

on

the

part

of

most

of those

noblemen who attended

there

was

l i t t l e or

no

r ev er en ce p a i d at

the solemn moment of

the elevation of the host. "

So

far forth, thanks

be

to God, i s true religion

in this country "

ex

claimed

the Earl

of

Hertford, an

eye-witness.1

At

this

time, i t may

be observed, a

l i t t l e frank

espousal of

the Protestant cause

on

the

part

of

•

Queen

Elizabeth,

a

few

unmistakable

words

declar

ing

her firm

purpose never to return to

the

Roman

Catholic

Church,

might

possibly

have

decided the

French noblemen that s t i l l wavered between the

two

religions. As i t was, the

Pope ,

the Emperor, and

the

King of S p a i n received confident assurances from

England

i t s e l f

that

there

would

be

no difficulty i n

making

the

queen change

her

religion, and

Eliza

beth's envoy informed

her

that when

a

Protestant

spoke

on

the

subject to Cardinal Lorraine and

Mary

of Scots,

these

made their advantage of the

cross

and candles in your [Queen Elizabeth's] chapel,

saying

you were not yet

fully resolved of

what

religion you should

be."

2

Yet, with or

without the

aid of Elizabeth's

ex

a m p le ,

the

Protestants

were

becoming

more

and

more bold. Old proscriptive l aws c oul d no longer

be executed. Protestants would assemble for wor

ship.

When, a

l i t t l e

l a t e r ,

the Queen of

Navarre

journeyed

by short stages to

court, she

had

preach

ing

services in her presence, wherever s he s top p ed .

1

L e t t e r t o

C e c i l , P a r i s , Ma y 2 0 , 1 5 6 1 .

I b i d . , 1 1 6 .

*

Throkmorton

t o

t h e

q u e e n ,

A p r i l

2 9 ,

1 5 6 1 .

I b i d . , 8 6 .



is8 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

Then

the

attendance was marvellous. Fifteen

thou

sand

persons

joined

with

her

at

Orleans

in

partaking

of the

Holy Communion.

The city

had

declared

i t s e l f

of

the

new

sect, according

to

the Venetian

Suriano.'

Earnest Roman Catholics

were

startled and dis

couraged,

not

least of

a l l the p a p a l nuncio, the

Bishop of Viterbo. So

sure

was he that

everything

was going to

rack

and

ruin,

that

he

sought and

ob

tained

his

r e c a l l . 2

His

successor,

Cardinal

Santa

Cruce, was a man

who never lost heart

and

who

came

determined to win in spite

of

a l l d i f f i c u l t i e s .

Yet

i t may be noted that, before he had been many

months i n the country, the correspondence of even

this sanguine

personage

took

on

almost

precisely

the

same

mournful tone as that for which

he

had c r i t i

cised

his

predecessor,

and

he too

was begging to be

permitted to

return to

Rome, in order

that

he might

not witness with his own eyes the funeral obsequies

of

an unfortunate kingdom.3

The

one

thing

that Pope and nuncio, priests and

cardinals,

united in dreading as

the

direst of cata

strophes was the veiy thing which Huguenots

and

patriots

with equal

unanimity

desired

as the c on

summation

of

a l l

their

hopes

—

hat

liberty

of

con

science

and

of

religious

worship might at length be

conceded. But,

at the bare

suggestion that

the

1 Despatch o f M i c h e l e S u r i a n o , P a r i s , August 2 4 , 1 5 6 1 . D e s p a t c h e s ,

e d i t e d by S i r Henry Layard ( P u b l i c a t i o n s of Huguenot

S o c i e t y

of

L o n d o n , v o l .

v i . ) , p . x l i v .

2 S h e r s t o C ec il , T r e v i s o , Ma y 1 7 , 1 5 6 1 .

C a l e n d a r

of

S t a t e

Papers

( S t e v e n s o n

e d . ) , 1 1 4 , 1 1 5 .

3 L e t t e r

o f

J a n u a r y 7 , 1 5 6 2 .

Aymon, Tous

l e s

S y n o d e s ,

i . , 2 1 , 2 2 .





Theodore

Beza

[ i 5 i $ -

Catharine replying that the bishops were themselves

satisfied

with

the

contemplated

arrangement,

t r i e

ambassador

stood

his

ground,

and could

only

reiter

ate his strong belief that privacy was better than

publicity,

and that in any case only a

few

persons

should be

permitted

to be present at the

colloquy.1

Of assurances that no important changes would

be

made,

indeed, no changes at a l l affecting the re

ligion

professed

by t he ki ng s of

France,

predecessors

of

the p r es ent

occupant

of

the

throne,

—f

assurances

that the obedience of

France to

the Pope would

be

maintained

to

the utmost and that no attempt would

be made

to

alienate the property of the

Church

—

of

s u ch assurances

Catharine de'

Medici

was prodi

gal enough. But whether any reliance could be

p l a ced on her word was doubtful. The

trouble with

her

and

with her

council

was

that

they

were

as

ready

to unsay as to say, and that they did not hesitate,

when convenient,

to

deny that they had ever uttered

any

of

their previous

assertions.2

The

queen-mother was, in

the

estimation of a l l

well-informed

men, timid and

irresolute. Whether

she would favour or

oppose

the progress of the Re

formed

religion,

was a

question which i t

was

at

the

time

impossible

to

answer

with

certainty,

s i m p l y

because the decision ultimately reached would hot

be made according to p rinc ip l es f ixed and stable,

but must depend upon motives

of expediency shift

ing with the a p p a re nt demands of the hour.

Of

settled convictions upon moral or religious matters

1

S u r i a n o ' s d e s p a t c h o f

August

2 9 , 1 5 6 1 .

L a y a r d ,

i t b i

s u p r a , p . x l v .

8

Despatch

o f

S u r i a n o ,

September

8 ,

1 5 6 1 .

I b i d . ,

p .

x l v i .



F R A N C O I S DE C H A S T I L L O N ,

LORD

OF ANDELOT.





1 5 6 i ]

Recall

to France 1 3 1

she had, or appeared to have, few or

none.

She

was

profoundly

ignorant

respecting

doctrine.

" I

do

not

believe,"

says Suriano, " that her Majesty

understands what i s

meant

by

the word

dogmas,

but

I

suspect t h a t , l i k e

others who

every d ay want t o dispute

concerning religion—l l of

them,

or a t l e a s t the greater

part of

them,

ignorant people—he confuses dogmas,

r i t e s , and

abuses,

as i f they

were

a l l one and

the s a m e

t h i n g . Hence there a r i s e s every form of confusion i n

t h e i r

disputes

and,

possibly,

also

i n

t h e i r

opinions."

1

But

i f

Catharine de' Medici was

timid

and irreso

l u t e ,

there were

others

who

had

fully

made up their

minds and

had the courage

inspired

by their con-

•

victions. The King of

Navarre

might waver and

ultimately

throw

i n his lot with the enemies of the

R ef or ma ti on , bu t his younger

brother,

Conde, had

no

hesitation.

Nor

was

there

hesitation

on

the

part

of the three br other s Chastillon—he Admiral of

Coligny, d'Andelot, and the

reforming

cardinal,

who

though

he

s t i l l wore

the red

robe

as a

member

of the Roman S a cre d College,

was,

as we have seen,

not afraid to celebrate the Holy Communion and at

a later time

to take

to

himself a

wife, and,

during

his residence at

Queen Elizabeth's

court,

to

do

e f f i

cient

work

i n

the

interest

of

the

Huguenots

and

of

the other Protestants of the Continent. And, be

hind

these and

other important

nobles,

stood a great

body of men, titled and untitled,

the

majority un

known as yet to the world, though, as the most

virtuous and

intelligent

element of the

population,

exerting

a quiet influence,

willing

and ready, how-

1

S u r i a n o ,

u b i

s u p r a .



132 Theodore Beza for

ever, should the occasion

come, to

suffer

loss

of

property

and

even

death

in

attestation

of

their

f a i t h .

The times had clearly

changed

essentially since

Beza retired from the kingdom and sought a refuge

in

hospitable Geneva. True, the battle

for religious

liberty was not yet won.

Legislation

was s t i l l hos

t i l e in the extreme.

I t was no easy

thing

for a

judge

to be

both

equitable and

observant of

the l a w

;

and between the dictates of the bloodthirsty edicts,

as

yet

unrepealed,

and

the

d ic ta tes of

natural

justice

reinforced by a

powerful

public sentiment in

favour

of more leniency in dealing with respectable citizens

whose only fault was that they did not believe

what

the greater

part

of the nation believed or imagined

'

that they

believed,

the

parliaments

as well as the

lower

courts exhibited a singular record of

inconsist

ency

verging

upon

absurdity.

Of

a l l

the

incidents

of the

year

of Beza's return

to France,

indeed, the

most

inconsistent and

absurd was the publication

of a fresh law,

known

from the

time

of

i t s

issue a s

the E di c t of July—i t t l e

better

than a n a na c hr on is m ,

inasmuch

as

at a

juncture

imperatively calling

for

the s u p p l y of r e l i e f , i t reenacted severe penalties

against a l l such as should attend conventicles where

there

was

preaching

or

where

the

sacraments

were

administered. The best that could be said for i t

was that the measure was evidently of a temporary

character, a sop

thrown

to the priests

to

gain a

brief

respite from their incessant complaints of the

indul

gence shown to dissent.1

1

T he

e d i c t was

e n a c t e d J u l y I I , 1 5 6 1 .

S e e

R i s e

of

t h e Huguenots,

i . ,

4 8 3 ,

f o i l .



1 5 6 i ] Recall to France

1 33

Meanwhile the government

had,

some months

before,

so

far

yielded

to

the

insistence

of

the

friends

of progress as to decide

definitely

that

an opportun

ity should at l a s t

be

afforded

the Protestants of

meeting with their opponents and setting forth their

views and the

grounds of

those views.

Even

the

time had

been fixed. In an

interview

which Ad

miral Coligny

held

with the ambassador of Queen

Elizabeth by appointment

at

a p lace three l ea gues

distant

from

Fontainebleau,

on

the

24th

of

April,

he

informed

him in

profound

secrecy

"

that

yesterday i t wa s

resolved,

i n Council, that i n

August next the king would

assemble

h i s clergy

and

keep

a National Council i n

France for

r e l i g i o n . And as the

Queen

of

England

ha d

dissuaded the king from accept

ing the Council of

Trent

a nd

[urged him]

t o desire one

i n

h i s

own

realm,

where

things

might

be

handled

with

more s i n c e r i t y , and i t was said that

the

queen would

a s

s i s t

him

therein,

i t

i s

now

thought

that

she w i l l

show

herself a good friend to the king and t o the promotion

of

true

r e l i g i o n ,

i f

she w i l l send some of her best learned

divines

t o

t h i s

assembly,

and exhort

the

Princes P ro

testant

t o d o

the

like."

1

I t

i s

very

certain, however, that i f su ch were the

hopes

of

Coligny

and

other

leaders

of

the

Reformed

f a i t h ,

Catharine de'

Medici

never had the idea of

inviting either Elizabeth

or

any German prince to

be

represented in a French National Council; nor

indeed of holding any Council at a l l in which Pro

testants should

s i t

as members. As i t was, about

1

Throkmorton t o Queen

E l i z a b e t h ,

P a r i s ,

A p r i l

2 9 ,

1 5 6 1 . C a l e n

d a r

of

S t a t e

P a p e r s ,

8 3 .



i34 Theodore

Beza

O519-

the same time as the other two orders of the king

dom

were

in

session

i n

the

so-called

States-General

at Pontoise, she

summoned a l l

the

bishops

of France

to meet in the

neighbouring

convent of Poissy,1 at

a

convenient distance

from the

royal

castle of Saint

Germain en Laye. In

justification

of her action in

calling these representatives of the clergy to

con

sider the

present religious

situation of France

with

ou t wa it in g for the General Council of the Church,

which

was

the

great

desire

of

her

heart,

she

excused

herself by

alleging that

she had no intention to make

any innovations in ecclesiastical matters, and con

sequently no intention

to

do anything

at

which the

Pope

could

take

umbrage.

" But," said s h e , "

those

who are extremely i l l are

ex

cusable

i f

they a p p ly a l l

s o r t s

of

remedies t o a l l e v i a t e

their pain when unendurable, the

meantime

waiting

f o r

the good

physician, which I esteem must

be a

good

Council, for so furious a nd dangerous a disease of which

those

may speak

with more boldness who

f e e l

i t a nd

are

most affected

by

i t . " 3

Moreover she

defended herself

for inviting the

Pro

testant ministers, by calling attention to the admira

ble

opportunity

that would

be

offered to

convince

them of the

error

of their

ways

" Having been req ues ted by. the greater p art of the

nobles and commons

of

t h i s

kingdom, a

few

months

ago,

1

On

J u l y 2 0 , a c c o r d i n g t o L a n g u e t , E p i s t . S e c r e t . , i i . , 1 2 2 .

' C a t h a r i n e t o

t h e

B i s h o p o f R e n n e s , August 2 3 , 1 5 6 1 , i n Le L a -

b o u r e u r ,

A d d i t i o n s

aux

M e ' m .

d e

C a s t e l n a u ,

i . ,

7 2 5 .



A .

T h e P *

T h e D d o r e B e z a , who s p e a k s .

B .

The * • M i n i s t e r s

w i t h h i m.

C . Mon ' • T a b l e o f t h e

N u n s .

D . M a d ' *

B o d y - g u a r d s

o f

K i n g .

E . The , S w i s s G u a r d s

o f K i n g .

F . The

' *

S e c r e t a r i e s o f S t a t e .





1 5 6 t ]

Recall

to

France 135

t o grant a

hearing

t o the ministers s cattered i n various

c i t i e s

of

t h i s

king dom , on

t h e i r

Confession

of

Faith,"

she

wrote

t o the French ambassador a t the court of the

Emperor,

"

I was

advised

t o

do

so

by my

brother,

the

King

of Navarre,

the r e s t

of

the

princes of

the

blood, a nd

the members of the council of the king my son. Long

and mature deliberation has convinced me that i n such

great

troubles there

i s no better

or more e f f e c t i v e

means

of

leading the ministers t o abandon their views

and

of dr aw

ing

o f f

t h e i r

adherents than

t o

make

t h e i r

teaching

known

and discover what errors and heresies i t

contains."

1

I t was determined therefore for the f i r s t time that

the

Protestants

of

France should be heard

i n de

fence of their

doctrine

— very

si m p le

and natural

thing, which they had been asking for years with

persistence, yet a thing which their enemies had

as

persistently

opposed and

denied.

They

s t i l l

op

posed

i t , on the present occasion, with one

solitary

exception. Cardinal Lorra ine, s tr an ge

to

say, was

quite

willing

that

the Protestants

should

make a

public

a p p e a r a n c e through

their

chosen representa

t i v e s , taking,

in f a c t , so different

a n

attitude from

that of his colleagues in the S a c re d

College

as to lay

himself open to

not a

l i t t l e

suspicion.

We

shall

see

further

on whether

this

suspicion

was

well

grounded.

Undoubtedly,

when the Protestants began to look

for the

man best

qualified

to represent them

at

Poissy, their

minds

turned

instinctively

to

John

Calvin, than whom no other was mentally or morally

better equipped— native

Frenchman, moreover,

1

L e t t e r

t o t h e

B i s h o p

o f R e n n e s , S e p t . 1 4 , 1 5 6 1 , o r f i v e d a y s a f t e r

Beza

s p o k e

a t

P o i s s y .

I b i d . ,

i . ,

7 3 2 ,



136 Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

who had never lost his interes t in the

land

of his

birth,

but

was

more

active

than

any

other

man

alive

in

promoting

by his voice and by his pen the p ro

gress of the Reformation in France. Calvin, how

ever, was not to

be thought of

for a n instant. With

a l l their

affection

for him, the

ministers

of the

Church of Paris distinctly told

him

so and gave him

their reasons.

" We

see

no

means of

having you here," they

wrote

him, " without

grave

p e r i l , i n view

of the rage

which a l l

the enemies of the Gospel have conceived against you,

a nd the disturbances which your name alone would ex

c i t e i n t h i s

country,

were you known

t o

be present. In

f a c t , the

admiral

[Coligny] i s by no means

i n favour of

your undertaking the journey,

a nd

we have learned

with

certainty that the queen [Catharine de' Medici] would

not

r e l i s h

s eeing you.

S he

says

frankly

that

she

would

not

pledge herself

for your s a f e t y , as for

that

of the

r e s t .

On the other hand, the enemies of the Gospel a s s e r t that

they would be

glad

t o

l i s t e n t o

a l l the other

[Reformers],

but t h a t , as

for you,

they could not

bring

themselves t o

hear

you or to look a t

you. You s e e , s i r ,

i n what esteem

you are held by these

venerable

p r e l a t e s .

I suspect that

you

w i l l

not

be

much grieved by i t , nor

consider

yourself

dishonoured

by

being

so

viewed

by

such

gentry."

1

On the contrary, there existed among the a dher

ents of the Roman Catholic

party

no su ch

inveterate

prejudice

against

Beza.

Men

had not forgotten

that he was once addicted to the lighter forms of

literature and was a graceful poet.

He

would not

be

out of his native

element

in the royal

court. He

1 La

R i v i e r e

t o

C a l v i n ,

P a r i s ,

J u l y

3 1 ,

1 5 6 1 . B u l l e t i n ,

x v i . ,

6 0 3 .



i 5 6 i ]

Recall

to

France

137

might

not equal

Cal vin i n his mastery of

the

science

of

theology,

but

he

would

be

a

more

acceptable

dis

putant. The believers of P aris wrote urging him to

come;

so did also the Prince of

Conde

and

Admiral

Coligny,

who, although as yet unknown to him as a

correspondent,

not

only

sent

him

a letter but

de

s p a t ch e d a

trusty agent to

lay before

him

the abso

lute need of him in which

Protestant

France stood.

As to

the

King

of Navarre, he declared with his

usual

impetuosity

that

Beza had no

friend

at

court

to whom

his

appearance would

be

more grateful than

to him, and he promised cheerfully

to

do everything

i n his

power

for

the Reformer.1

S t i l l Beza delayed

his

coming.

This

i s not sur

prising. The E d i ct of July, to which reference has

been made, was poor evidence of any intention on

the

p art of

the

court

to

deal

f a i r l y

by

Protestantism,

whose

condition,

so

far

as public worship was c on

cerned, i t rendered worse rather than better. The

Protestants at

Paris were

nearly in despair. The

colloquy of

prelates

was in session and the time

was short. Men began to s ay that the Protestants

would not d are to appear before so goodly a com

pany and stand up for

their

errors.

Should

the

colloquy

finish

i t s

business

and

adjourn

without

their

having presented

themselves to

maintain the

cause of

the

Gospel,

the

mouths

of the malevolent

would be open to decry their pusillanimity and as

perse their religion. The princes

hitherto favour

able

would be

disgusted. Catharine de' Medici,

1 . S e e

t h e

l e t t e r s o f

La

R i v i e r e and

t h e

o t h e r s , i n Baum,

i i . ( d o c ) ,

3 4 . 3 5 .



138 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 6 1

never

slow

to make cutting speeches, was already

saying

to

one

and

another

that

she

would

never

be

a bl e to per su a de herself that the Reformers had any

right on their s id e

i f they failed to seize the oppor

tunity

offered them to manifest and maintain the

grounds of their f a i t h . We have an earnest letter

i n

which

the Protestants of

Paris laid

the situation

before

Beza, imploring him to make

no

tarrying,

and

assuring

him that the E d i ct of July—etter

understood

at

home

than

i t

could

be

understood

at

a distance

—

ad been s i m p l y made to satisfy King

Philip of Spain and the Pope and to extr ac t money

from

the purses of the

reluctant

p rel ates of Poissy—

bad

motives,

doubtless,

but containing

nothing

to

discourage

the ad vocates of the truth.1 Nor was

this a l l . Antoine of Navarre

again wrote by a

special messenger, this time to the magnificent

Lord s, the Syndics and Council of the Seigniory of

Geneva, ' '

praying them

i n the most

affectionate man

ner

to

consent to

send his

dear

and well-beloved

Theodore

de Beze,

than whom

he could a sk

for no

person more highly a p pro ve d , and to d e s p a t ch him as

expeditiously

as

possible

to the end that his delay

might not hinder t he p rog res s of so

good

a work. '

I t

was

no

longer

decent

or

possible

to

turn

a

deaf

ear

to

su ch

ap peals.

Without waiting

even

for a

safe-conduct, Beza set o f f on the 16th of August for

the scene of the coming theological encounter. S ix

days

later he reached

Paris.

1

La R i v i e r e i n

t h e name

o f

t h e whole C h u r c h ,

P a r i s , August 1 0 ,

1 5 6 1 . Baum,

i i .

( d o c ) ,

3 7 - 3 9 .

2

i b i d , ,

i i .

( d o c . ) ,

3 9 ,

4 0 ,



CHAPTERIX

RECEPTION AT COURT

1561

T

Ef i r s t

tidings that awaited

Beza

upon his arrival

I in Paris were

by

no means encouraging. I t i s

true

that he

was

informed

that a

number

of his col

leagues, delegates of Huguenot Churches, some

eight

pastors in a l l , had reached the court

of

France be

fore

him, and

had

been received by

the king pub

l i c l y

and

with

the

utmost

kindness.

Charles

was

pleased to permit them

to

present

him

a petition,

and

assured

them, meanwhile looking upon them

"

with

a

very

goodly countenance, that he

would

communicate their requests to his council and reply

to

them by his chancellor. And, inasmuch

as

these

requests were

to

the effect that their avowed

enemies,

the

ecclesiastics, should

not be permitted

to act as their

judges,

but

that

the

king

himself

should

preside

at the approaching

colloquy, and

that the S a c re d Scriptures in their Hebrew and

Greek

originals should form the sole

ground

for the

decision of

controverted points,

i t must

be

confessed

that the P rotes ta nt s might well be pardoned for

en

tertaining sanguine expectations

of

the

i s s u e . 1 But,

1

H i s t .

E c c U s . ,

i . ,

5 4 2 ,

f o i l .



i4°


on the other

hand,

there came news of

plots

on the

part

of their

antagonists,

no

longer,

as

was

believed,

vain rumours, but ascertained f a c t s . A s t i l l more

tangible c ause

for

apprehension was

that

the very

chief

of

their

enemies—he same Duke

of

Guise

who, after the enactment of the intolerant

E d i ct

of

July,

boasted that his sword

would never

rest

in

i t s

scabbard when the execution of this law was c on

cerned—xpected to reach the royal court on the

morrow,

at

the

head

of

a

powerful

band

of friends

and

retainers.

Well might

Beza write to Calvin,

when he had been but a few hours in P aris, that he

did not know but that he had fallen rather upon a

c i v i l war than upon

a peaceable conference.1

To

feelings

of

discouragement must soon have

su c ceede d

more

cheerful

emotions. The King

of

France

and his

court

had

for

some

time

been

at

his

castle

or

p a l a ce

of

Saint Germain,

or, as

i t was de

signated more particularly, i n order to distinguish i t

from the six-

or seven-score

places bearing the name

of

one

of the most po pu l a r

worthies

in the Roman

Catholic calendar, Saint Germain

en

Laye. The

very

day of Beza's

arrival

at Paris, a

messenger

rode

i n haste to convey to the expectant and

delighted

Huguenot

nobles

about

his

Majesty

the

welcome

intelligence that the man upon whom more than

upon any other

they

depended in the approaching

struggle was

safe

and

ready

to come to their aid.

The distance yet to be

traversed

by the Genevese

Reformer was but fourteen miles. Before nightfall a

return messenger was despatched

to beg

him to

come

1

B e z a

t o

C a l v i n ,

August

2 2 ,

1 5 6 1 :

Baum,

i i .

( i l o c ) ,

4 4 , 4 5 .



1 5 6 i ] Reception at

Court 1 4 1

at once

to

the royal

court.

A cc or din gl y, t he next

day

(August

23d),

Beza

set

forth

on

horseback,

accompanied

by a c a v a l c a de of

friendly

Huguenots,

reaching

in time for the evening meal the abode of

the C ard ina l

of

Chastillon

at Saint Germain, where

he and the delegates of the French Protestant

Churches

were to be

hospitably

entertained.5

He was not allowed to eat in peace, so anxious

were his friends to see him and so pressing were the

invitations

to

come

to

the

castle

or

palace.

A

f l a t

tering

reception awaited

him. On

entering he

was

met by the new

Chancellor

of France, not so

famous

now as he was destined shortly

to

become, nor so

thoroughly

understood

to be a

lover

of

country and

of toleration, the learned and venerable Michel de

1'Hospital.

That great man coveted the honour

of

introducing

Beza at

the

French

court,

as

Beza

clearly

saw and afterwards wrote down

;

but the

Reformer,

not recognising the great hea rt of L'Hospital, and

the great p atriotism which

that heart

contained,

was

wary

and suspicious. There was no time,

however,

for conference. At the door of the chamber into

which he passed, Beza found himself confronted

with a number

of

the grandees

of

the kingdom.

First

came

the

great

admiral,

Gaspard

de

Coligny,

whom he had barely time to salute

before

the King

of Navarre and his brother, the P rince

of

Conde,

threw

themselves

upon him, " with a

very great

affection,

i t seemed to

me, as

Beza,

who

by this

time was tolerably well a c q ua in te d wi th the s ha ll ow

and

untrustworthy character of the

elder

Bourbon,

1

L a n g u e t ,

E p i s t o l a

S e c r e t c e ,

i i . ,

1 4 0 .




noted

not without some

pardonable

misgivings.

Meanwhile,

two

prelates

drew

near,

the

cardinals

of

Bourbon and

of Chastillon,

both of whom offered

him their

hands. I t

were to be wished

that

Beza

had found s p a c e to relate, in his letter to C al v in,

a l l

that

was

said,

for the l i t t l e that he did set down i s

enough

to

show that

in quickness

and in

tact

he was

quite ready for the

occasion.

As he g ra s p e d the

proffered hand

of

Cardinal Bourbon, he

could

not

deny

himself

the

satisfaction

of

protesting,

doubt

l e s s with

a mischievous twinkle of the

eye, that

he,

Beza, had undergone

no change since—

t Nerac, a

year

ago

—he prelate had declined

to speak

to him,

for

fear

of

being excommunicated.

The poor cardi

nal, in

his

embarrassment, could only answer that he

was desirous of understanding

matters

in

truth ;

to

which Beza

naturally

replied

by

begging

Bourbon

to abide by his purpose

and by

offering his

own serv

ices to that end. A discussion had almost begun,

but both saw

that

i t was no suitable time for con

troversy, and

stopped. To

Bourbon's

brother, the

King

of Navarre, Beza

playfully,

yet

earnestly, ob

served that

he

greatly

feared

that his

Majesty

would

soon be

l e s s

joyful

at his

a r r i v a l , unless he (the

king)

made

up

his

mind to

change

his

present

course

of

action. To this Antoine replied

by

an

outburst

of

laughter,

and

Beza

in

turn confined

himself to

assur

ing him that the words were spoken i n a l l seriousness

and that

he would

do

well to

think upon the

matter.

S uc h, a l m os t in Beza's own words, were the in

cidents

of

the

f i r s t

few minutes

of

his

stay

at

Saint



t 5 6 i ] Reception at

Court

H3

Germain.

New honours awa ited him . He was

conducted

by

a

company

far

greater

than

he

could

have expected,

to

pay his respects

to

the Princess

of

Conde and

to

the

wife of

Admiral Coligny.

The next day, which was Sunday, in the l od ging s

of

the

Prince of

Conde,

and

in the

presence of a

large and honourable company that had assembled

to hea r hi m, the Genevese Reformer preached a Pro

testant discourse. At that very

moment

the prince

himself

was

joining

with

the

Duke

of

Guise,

before

the queen-mother and the

royal

council, in a solemn

act of

amity

and

reconciliation. The

Duke

of Guise

solemnly

asseverated

that he was in nowise the

cause or author

of

the prince's imprisonment at Or

leans,

and when the prince had declared that he held

to be wicked

a l l that

had been

i t s

cause, the duke

positively

a s serted that

he thought

so

too,

and

that

the matter did not concern him at

a l l .

I t was a

farce,

whose insincerity was transparent

to a l l

eyes,

p l a yed with scarcely an attempt, on the part of the

actors,

to

conceal i t s worthlessness. All that i t

effected was to permit the prince

and

the

duke

to

meet in the ordinary intercourse of l i f e with the

semblance

of

having

buried a l l recollection of the

unfortunate

Tumult

of

Amboise

and

of

the

subse

quent counterplot to destroy the Bourbon princes

i n the

l a s t hours of

the reign

of Francis

I I .

That

day the P rotes ta nt deputies

received from

the

king

a favourable rep ly to the petition which

ha s already been

referred

t o . They

were assured,

although

the promise was not as yet in

writing and

in a uthe nt ic f orm , that they should be admitted to



H4 Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

an

audience and that

their

opponents should

not

be

suffered to act as their

judges.

At about nine

o'clock

in the evening, Beza was

summoned

to

the chamber of the

King

of

Navarre.

Great was his surprise,

on entering,

to find

that,

in

stead of Antoine alone, there were

gathered

the

queen-mother, Catharine de' .Medici, Prince

Conde,

the

Duke d'fitampes,

Cardinals Bourbon and Lor

raine, and one or two l adies of the court. Startled

though

he

was and

possibly

suspecting

some

snare

laid

for him, the Reformer did not

lose

his s el f- pos

session and promptly addressed himself to Catharine.

In

a few words he laid before her the

reason

of his

coming

to

France. This was in brief his earnest

desire

to be

of

service

to his native land. The

queen-mother replied courteously and kindly,

ex

pressing her very great joy should a conclusion in

very deed be reached

that might

procure

p e a c e and

quiet

to the realm. Thus

far

there was not a ripple

to disturb the interview. Apparently Cardinal Lor

raine

did

not

intend that

i t

should end so amicably.

After some

complimentary

words,

in which he

ac

knowledged the intellectual ability of the new-comer,

he added

that he had

hitherto

known

Beza

merely

by

his

writings,

but

now

that

he

had

come

he

ex

horted him to

study

the

p e a c e

and concord of the

kingdom. As

Beza

had heretofore

afflicted

France,

he how had i t in his power to assuage her woes .

The taunt did not p a s s unanswered. Again Beza

protested the f erv enc y of his desire to

serve

his king

and his country. I t

stood

next only to his

de

s i r e

to

serve his

God. So

great a kingdom as



t 5 6 i ]

Reception at

Gourt 145

France,"

he said, " has nothing to

fear in

the

way

of

disturbance

from my

slender

a b i l i t i e s .

Nay,

the

idea of such a thing ha s ever been

as

alien

as

pos

sible

from my thoughts.

My

writings have shown

t h i s , and a comparison of their contents will make

i t plain. " Have you written anything in French ? ' '

asked the queen-mother. To

this Beza replied :

I

have

written

a translation of the P s a l m s , and a cer

tain Answer to the Confession of the Duke of North

umberland.

'

' Catharine's

question,

i t

came

out,

had

been occasioned

by

the circulation

in France

of

an

insulting song, ascribed to Beza as

i t s author,

the

previous year.

Beza positively

and

at some

length

denied that the song

in

question

emanated

from

him.

The mention of defamatory books brought

on

a

theological discussion.

"

I

have a t Poissy,"

said

the cardinal, " a book a t

tributed t o you,

treating

of the Sacrament, i n which you

a s s e r t

what seems

t o

me

an

absurdity, that Christ

i s a s

much

t o be

sought i n the Lord's

S u p p er

as before He

wa s born of the

Virgin.

Moreover,

I

am

t o l d ,

although

t h i s I am

not willing

to

a f f i r m ,

as I

have never seen the

book, that you s t a t e that Christ i s not more i n Cæna than

i n

Cæno

'

'

—p l a y upon words, signifying not more in the

Supper than in the mire." At this the queen-

mother and the other

listeners were evidently

moved,

but

Beza

quietly replied

that,

when

the

books were produced, he

would

not disavow them,

i f

they

were

h i s . As

to the two propositions

which

1 0



146 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 t g -

the

cardinal

had referred t o , the sense of the former

might be

true, although

only an

inspection

of the

book would show that ; but the latter c oul d not be

found either in

his books

or in

those of anyone

else

possessed of the

slightest

intelligence in the worl d.

' '

Our Confession of Faith," he a d de d , proves in

what

reverence

we

'hold the Sacraments.

The

discussion

drifted

into an

argument respecting

the

meaning

of the words of our Lord i n the institu

tion of

His

S u p p e r.

I

teach the

children

of

my

diocese," said the cardinal,

when

they

are

asked

the question , ' What i s the bread in the Supper ? '

to

answer

that

i t

i s the body of Christ.

Do

you find

fault

with

this ?

Why should

I

not approve the

words

of Christ ? replied Beza.

But

the ques

tion i s , ' In what way i s the bread called the body

of

Christ ?

'

" Hereupon he proceeded

to set

forth

his

own

and

the

Reformed view—amely,

that

the

signs

used

retain

their

original

nature, the

bread

continuing to be

bread and

the

wine to

be

wine;

that the thing signified i n the Sacrament i s the very

body of Christ affixed to the cross and His v e ry bl ood

poured out on the cross; that the bread and water

used are not common bread and water, from which,

however,

they

differ

only

i n

that

they

become

visible

signs of

the body

and blood

of

Christ ;

that

there

fore the body and blood of Christ, so far as they are

truly given and communicated, are truly present i n

the use

of

the S u p p e r , not, as

they

are esteemed to

be, under, or

i n ,

or with the bread, or

anywhere

else

than

in heaven

whither

Christ

ha s ascended,

that

there

He

may

reside,

so far as appertains

to His human



1 5 6 i ] Reception at

Court

147

nature,

until He

shall

return to judge the

quick and

the

dead

;

f i n a l l y ,

that,

in

the

Communion,

the

visible

signs

are given us to

be taken by

the hand,

to be

eaten, to be drunk in a natural manner, but, so far

as the thing signified i s concerned, that

i s ,

the body

and

blood of

Christ,

they a re of fered

indeed

to a l l ,

but

they cannot

be

partaken

of s a ve spiritually and

by f a i t h , not by the hand , not by the mouth.

Once and again in the

course

of the

conversation,

the

cardinal

expressed his acquiescence in the

doc

trine propounded. He rejoiced

greatly,

he

said,

to

hear that these were the sentiments of Beza and his

friends, for he had understood that they had thought

differently. At

one

point he expressed a hope that

for himself he might retain the doctrine of Tran-

substantiation ; yet • he conceded

that

i t might be

omitted

by

the

theologians,

and

he

indeed

would

be

unwilling

that

there

should

be

a schism in the

churches because

of

Transubstantiation. Later on,

he

protested

that he was not urgent in behalf of

Transubstantiation and admitted that Christ must be

sought

for

in

heaven.

In fact he plainly

showed

to

the skilled disputant with whom he had to do that

his

views

were by no means settled, and that he had

no

true

mastery

of

the

subject.

His

time,

he said,

had been

taken up

with

other

studies. At length

he went

so

far

as to say

:

"

I am

unpractised i n

discussions

of t h i s kind, but you

ha v e hea rd what

I

would

say."

" And you i n l i k e man

ner,"

returned Beza, "

have

hea rd f rom me what should

s a t i s f y you.

I

sum

a l l

up

thus:

The

bread i s

the

body

of

Christ

sacramentally,

that

i s ,

although

that

body

i s

t o




d a y i n heaven and nowhere e l s e ,

yet the

signs

are with

us

upon

the

e a r t h .

Yet

j u s t

so

truly

i s

that

body

given

t o u s ,

and

j u s t

so truly

i s

i t partaken of by us through

f a i t h , a nd

that

t o l i f e eternal because of God's promise,

a s the

sign

i s naturally extended t o our ha nd s ."

Beza's

statement

contented,

or seemed to

con

tent,

the

cardinal.

Turning to the queen-mother,

who had

sat

through the long

discussion, ' ' Madam, ' '

he

said,

I

bel iev e s o

too,

and

this s a t i s f i e s

me.

Whereupon Beza also

addressed

her and exclaimed :

' ' Behold then those

wretched

'

Sacramentarians

'

so long

vexed

and borne

down

with

a l l

sorts of

calumnies

"

There was an animated

scene

for a moment.

Catharine de' Medici, overjoyed,

was not

s i l e n t .

"

Do

you

hear,

my

lord

cardinal,

that

the opinion

of the

Sacramentarians

i s

none

other than that

which

you

yourself

have approved ? She added a few

words about union and conciliation. Cardinal Lor

raine himself congratulated

the Reformer and said

these very words to him: Monsieur de Beze, I

have greatly

rejoic ed to

see and hear you. I adjure

you,

in God's

name, to

l e t

me

understand your

reasons

and

that

you

also

understand

mine.

And

you will not find

me

so black

as some

people make

me to

be."

Beza

thanked

him and

i n

turn begged

him not to desist from pursuing the p a t h of

concilia

tion, professing his own purpose to use for this

end

every

g i f t

God

had

conferred upon him.

Thus

the

disputants

separated and

the l i t t l e gathering

broke

up . Not, however, before witty Madame de Cursol,



1 5 6 i ] Reception

at Court 149

one

of the auditors, who understood the cardinal

well, had

taken

his

hand

as

she

bade

him

good-night

with

the

significant words:

Good

man

for this

evening; but

to-morrow, what?

With a

true

intuition

she

foresaw

precisely what came to

pass.

Scarcely had the next

morning

come when the car

dinal was boasting that he

had overcome

Beza and

brought him over to his opinion.1

Al l thes e

particulars

we learn from a letter which

Beza de s p at ched to Cal vin the following

evening.

Upon the

receipt of i t

Calvin, not a l i t t l e

amused at

Lorraine's pretended friendship, wrote to warn Beza

not

to

trust the prelate's professions. Thirteen

years before, he told him, a p a p a l legate, the Cardi

nal of Ferrara, had imposed upon

him

(Calvin), lav

ishing

caresses upon

him

and promising

to

be the

best

of

friends.

And

he

added

playfully

his

a d vi ce

that Beza s houl d not display any over-elation be

cause of Cardinal Lorraine's effusive demonstration,

nor

assume lordly

a i r s toward

him, his

fellow-

Reformer, in view of the circumstance that

Cal vin

could

so

easily retaliate, particularly

inasmuch as

a

p a p a l

legate i s

the sup e rior of any and

every

si m p le

cardinal. 2

Meanwhile

i t looked

as

i f

the

Parisian

Protestants

might

have sp ared

themselves the

feverish haste

with

which they sent for Beza, and that Beza himself

1 Beza t o

C a l v i n ,

S a i n t Germain, August 2 5 , 1 5 6 1 , i n Baum, T h e o -

d o r B e z a , i i . ( d o c ) , 4 5 - 5 4 .

Baum g i v e s

b o t h t h e o r i g i n a l French

form

and t h e

s u b s e q u e n t l y r e v i s e d L a t i n t r a n s l a t i o n . S e e ,

a l s o ,

La

P l a c e ,

H d i t i o n P a n t h e " o n , 1 5 5 - 1 5 7

;

H i s t o i r e E c c U s i a s t i q u e , i . , 5 5 1 ,

5 5 2

;

C a l v i n i O p e r a , x v i i i . , 6 3 0 - 6 4 1 .

' C a l v i n

t o

B e z a ,

September

3 ,

1 5 6 1 .

C a l v i n i O p e r a ,

x v i i i . ,

6 7 4 .





1 5 6 i ] Reception at Court 1 5 1

the bigots clung tenaciously,1 she was not likely to

listen

with

patience

to

the

protests

of

a

few

bishops

who

had

the effrontery to

propose to disperse with

out giving a moment's consideration to the

vital

questions that were occupying the serious thoughts

of a great part of

France

and threatened

to c rea te

a lasting

schism.

But the

delays

were interminable,

and the a i r was f u l l

of rumours

that the

Protestants

would either

f a i l

of

obtaining the

hearing

for which

they had been

brought

to Saint Germain,

o r ,

i f

heard at a l l , would be heard in su ch a

manner

as to

defeat

the very

object in view.

The dilatory

govern

ment was brought to the necessity of

instant

de

cision when, on the 8th of September, Beza

having

been fully

sixteen

days

at Saint Germain, the Pro

testant

ministers, envoys of the churches,

presented

themselves

before

Catharine

de'

Medici,

and

respect

fully but firmly demanded

that

impartial treatment

which they had been promised, and assured her that

they would immediately leave unless measures were

taken to

defeat

the machinations of their

enemies.

Whatever hesitation Catharine had disp layed at

once

disappeared. Before

being dismissed

from her

presence, the ministers had the satisfaction of seeing

informal action taken by the members of the

royal

c ounc il tha t were present,

granting essentially

a l l

the P rotes ta nt

requests.

The prelates would not be

their

judges.

The minutes

of

the proceedings would

be

reduced

to writing by one of the

secretaries

of

1

C a t h a r i n e ' s r e m a r k a b l e

l e t t e r

t o

P i u s I V . ,

o f August 4 ,

1

5 6 1 , i n

G e r d e s i u s ,

Scrinium

A n t i q . , v . , 3 3 9 ,

e t c ,

R i s e of t h e Huguenots^ i . ,

5 0 0 ,

5 0 1 ,




state,

but to this o f f i c i a l record the Protestants

might add

notes

or

comments

of their

own.

The

young

king, Charles

IX., would

be present,

i n

company with the princes of the blood. To

this

determination Catharine remained firm. The Sor-

bonne, or

theological

faculty of the University

of

Paris, sent some of their number to wait

upon her,

entreating her to giv e no audience to heretics whose

teac hings the Church had he retof ore of ten

con

demned, o r , at l e a s t , i f she would hear them herself,

not to suffer her

young

son's orthodoxy to be jeo

pardised by exposure to su ch infection. But Cath

arine was inflexible. The conference was appointed

for

the morrow,

and

Charles IX.

and his

suite were

to hear

what

the Reformers had to s ay for them

selves and for their teachings.



CHAPTERX

SPEECH

AT

THE COLLOQUY OF POISSY

1561

HE

occurrence which i s next

to be

described

1 constitutes one

of

the c r i t i c a l events in the

history of

the Reformation

i n

France.

Its

import

a nc e c a n scarcely be exaggerated.

The adherents of the Reformed Churches had

one

standing

grievance

to

allege

against

the

established

Church and against the

government

which in the

religious domain did l i t t l e more than carry

out

the

suggestions

of

that

Church.

They

maintained

that

the faith they professed was rational and Scriptural.

Each

s ep a ra te d oc trine

was based

upon

some dis

tinct utterance of the

Word

of God. Instead of

being newly invented, their belief was the original

belief

of the

Christian

Church. Upon every

point

where i t differed from the p res ent c reed and the

current

practice, antiquity was in

their favour.

Their opponents who cloaked themselves with the

pretence of following immemorial usage were them

selves innovators, since

they

upheld

a system

that

came into existence long after the times of the

Apostles,

so

that

at

best

i t

was

fairly

entitled

only



154

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

to the des igna tion of

inveterate

error. These Pro

testant

claims

appeared

to

the

multitude

and

even

to

the greater part

of

educated men at

f i r s t

sight

strange

and

paradoxical

; for they

involved an over

turning of a l l preconceived notions.

But the

Reformers

did not ask to be believed on

their own si m p le

assertion.

From the greatest

to

the

least

they offered to prove the truth of their

statements

by

the

Scriptures

of

the

Old

and

New

Testaments.

Their adversaries stopped

their ears.

They would

not

listen

to the

Protestants

when

living and

s t i l l

less when

dying.

If a martyr undertook to vindicate

the doctrine for which he was suffering the torture

of slow de ath

by f i r e ,

his

voice was

conveniently

drowned by the incessant beating of drums, unless,

indeed,

a

gag

of

wood or

iron

had

already

been

forced into his mouth to

impose silence

upon

him.

All that the Reformers asked of the ruling powers

was to be

heard.

I f they could but gain the ear of

the king,

they made sure that

their arguments were

so convincing, the truth so p atent, that there could

be

l i t t l e fear

of

the

result.

I f he would

listen

kindly, candidly,

impartially,

they cared

l i t t l e

for

anything else

;

but they insisted that he and no one

else should preside at the

audience,

and that their

enemies should

not pronounce

upon

the truth or

falsity of

their allegations.

I f this l a s t was

to

be

the case, that i s ,

i f

the " Gospel, as they

confid

ently

styled their

doctrine, was

to be

granted

a

pretended

hearing

only

to

be

subjected

to

the

i l l



1 5 6 i ] Colloquy of Poissy 155

dignity of a prearranged humiliation and defeat

—

n

this

case,

and in

this

case

alone,

they

were

resolved

to refuse to plead. Even personal affront was of

l i t t l e account, so long as

i t

affected them

alone.

Only

l e t

the

Word

have a f a i r

hearing.

All else

was

immaterial.

I t will be

seen that just

this personal

affront

was

to be offered them in the coming encounter.

Strange

to

say, John Cal vin had predicted,

some

ten years

before,

the very

insult

which was p ut

upon the

Reformers at Poissy,

and had then ex

pressed

in their name a willingness to endure

i t .

For

when,

on the

24th

of January,

1

55 1 ,

he dedi

cated to

young King Edward VI. of England

his

Commentary

on

the Catholic Epistles of the

New

Testament,

he exclaimed

with reference to

the

attitude

of

inferiority

in which

the

enemies

of

the

Reformation so persistently sought to p l a ce

i t s

friends,

Then

l e t

them

s i t , provided

we

are heard,

declaring the Truth

while standing.

' ' 1

I t was therefore with no slight sense of the im

portance of the occasion, and

with

a

he ar ty p r a ye r

to Heaven for help to make good use of i t , that,

about ten o' c loc k on the

morning of

Tuesday, Sep

tember

9 , 1561, Theodore Beza set

out

for Poissy,

escorted

by

a

strong detachment

of about

one

hun

dred horsemen, sent as a body-guard to preclude the

possibility

of any such treacherous

attack

a s , in the

present excited condition

of

the public

mind, would

1

C a l v i n ,

D e d i c a t i o n

t o Edward V I . p r e f i x e d t o C a t h .

E p i s t l e s .

Dated G e n e v a , January 2 4 , 1 5 5 1 . C a l v i n i

O p e r a ,

x i v . , 3 4 . " S e d e a n t

i l l i ,

modo

n o s s t a n d o

quod

verum

e s t

p r o f e r e n t e s

a u d i a m u r . "





1 5 6 i ]

Colloquy of Poissy

157

where he

was honoured as the

founder

of

more than

one

church.

The distance from the

castle

of

Saint

Germain to

the nuns ' convent at Poissy i s p os sibl y a

l i t t l e

over

three miles. A straight and

broad

avenue led from

the

one

p l ace to the other,

cutting o f f

the greater

part of the extensive forest of Saint Germain on the

right from the small portion that lay on the l e f t

hand.

I t required

less than

half

an hour

for Beza

to reach his destination. The Duke of Guise, to

whom

this

duty

had been assigned,

received him

with as

gracious

an

aspect

as he could

assume and

handed

him

and his

associates over to the conduct

of the

captain

of the royal

guard.

Following the

l a t t e r , they were s ubs eq uen tl y u she red into the

presence

of Charles

IX.1

The

large

refectory

of

the

conventual

edifice

had

been

pre pared

for

the unusual

meeting, as best

i t

could be, at short

notice.

A quaint engraving of

the time,

which

Montfaucon

ha s reproduced

i n his

Monuments

de

la

Monarchic

Francoise* may help us

to form an idea of the p l ace in which were assembled

a l l

the most distinguished

personages

of France.

The

tables

of the nuns ran along the

sides

of the

room,

the

table

of

the

abbess

along

the

side

farthest

from t he s p ec ta tor as he entered. In front of this

table

sat a number of great

lords in

a row, and before

them in

turn

the princes of the blood royal.

In

ad

vance of these were

six

detached seats,

places

of

highest honour. Here sat

young

King

Charles IX.,

1 Beza t o C a l v i n , September 1 2 ,

1 5 6 1 .

Baum, i i . ( d o c ) ,

6 1 ,

2

E d i t i o n

o f

P a r i s ,

1 7 3 3 ,

tome

v . ,

1 0 6 .







J f c S E LIBR.^

\ *

OF

T H E

UNIVERSITY



1 5 6 i ]

Colloquy

of

Poissy

159

pretty far forward in the hall toward the right

side," made an a p propriate

address.

Both

the king' s predecessors,"

said he,

and the

king himself have tried

every means, forcible

and mild,

t o reunite h i s

people

so unfortunately

divided by a

diversity

of

opinions. Neither force nor mildness has

been of

much

a v a i l . Consequently the division

long

since begun has been succeeded

by

a capital

enm ity be

tween

h i s

Majesty's subjects, from which, unless God

supplies

some

p romp t a nd

quick

remedy,

only

the

entire

ruin

of

the State i s t o be a p p rehend ed . I t i s for t h i s

reason t h a t , following the examp le of the action of

former monarchs i n similar s t r a i t s , the king has called

you together, that

he may

communicate t o you h i s need

of counsel a nd

help.

Before a l l

things

e l s e ,

he beg s you,

so

f a r a s

possible,

t o devise the means of

appeasing

God,

whose anger i s certainly provoked, and of rooting out

a nd

removing

whatever

has

offended

Him.

And

should

i t

be

found t h a t ,

through the

sloth and avarice

of

those

that

are

i n charge of H is s e r v i c e ,

there have crept

i n

abuses

contrary t o God's

Word,

contrary to the p re

scriptions of the Holy Apostles

and

the

ancient

constitu

tions of the Church,

h i s

Majesty begs you, so

f a r

as

your

authority extends, to p ut forth

your

hands with a resolu

tion

that s h a l l

take away from your enemies the

occasion

upon

which

they

have

l a i d

hold

t o

speak

i l l

of

you and

t o dr aw the people away from your obedience. Look

a l s o t o a l l that may reform both

your

l i v e s and the a d

ministration

of your

charges.

" Now, inasmuch as the diversity of opinions i s the

principal ground

of troubles

a nd

s e d i t i o n s , the

king,

following

i n t h i s

the decisions

of

the

two

meetings

here

tofore held,

has

granted

a safe-conduct t o the ministers



160 Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

of the new s e c t , i n the

hope

that a kindly a nd gracious

conference with them may

be

of great advantage. I

therefore beg

t h i s

entire company t o receive

them

as

a

father receives h i s children, a nd t o take pains t o

teach

a nd instruct them. Then, should the opposite of what

was hoped

f o r come

t o

p a s s ,

a nd

no

means

be

found t o

bring them back or

t o unite us a l l ,

i t

w i l l n o t ,

a t

l e a s t ,

be possible hereafter t o s a y , a s has been

said

i n the p a s t ,

that they have been condemned without

having

been

heard. When

t h i s dispute

s h a l l ha v e been f a i t h f u l l y r e

ported and published

throughout

the kingdom,

a s

i t

r e a l l y

wa s held, the

people

w i l l be

able

t o understand

that i t i s for good, j u s t , a nd certain reasons, a nd not by

force or authority, that t h i s doctrine has been rejected

a nd

condemned.

Meantime

h i s

Majesty

promises t o be,

a s

a l l

the

king's predecessors

have always been,

i n

every

thing

and everywhere, the protector and defender of h i s

Church."

1

Scarcely had the

chancellor

concluded

his

temper

ate s pee ch when Tournon, the oldest of the cardinals

present, arose and

addressed

the king before L' Hos

pital could

carry

out

his

purpose to

summon

the

Protestants. In spite of every rebuff, the

bigots

had

not

lost courage and

strove

at

the l a s t moment

to

prevent

the

promised

conference

from

taking

place. The cardinal was presiding officer of the as

sembled

clergy,

both

in

virtue of

seniority

and

by

rank.

For

he was

dean of the college

of

Roman

cardinals and primate of France by

reason

of his

archbishopric of

Lyons,

to which

the

primacy

was

attached.

He thanked the king

and

his mother

1 La P l a c e , Comment, d e I ' E s t a t d e l a R e ' l . e t R e p . ,

1 5 8 .





162

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

Here cofne the

Genevese

curs

spitefully ex

c l ai me d

one

of

the

cardinals,

in

tones

loud

enough

to

be heard

distinctly

by

Beza as

he entered

i n

com

pany

with another minister from the city

of Calvin.

To whom the courtly Reformer replied with

un

ruffled composure : Faithful dogs are much needed

in

the Lord s sheepfold

to

bark

at

the

wolves."

1

Beza, like his companions, was s i m p l y dressed i n

the

long black Genevan gown, worn

in public

from

the

time

of

the

Reformation

to

the

present

day

by the pastors of the Churches of

France

and French

Switzerland. On reaching the

r a i l

he stood

for

an

instant and then addressed the young king in these

words 3 :

" S i r e , inasmuch as the issue

of a l l

enterprises, both

great and

small, de pends upon the help

and favour

of

our

God, a nd

c h i e f l y

when

these

enterprises

concern

the

i n t e r e s t s of H is service and matters that surpass the

capacity of our

understandings",

we

hope that

your

Ma

j e s t y w i l l not find i t amiss or strange i f we begin by the

invocation of H is name, beseeching Him after the f o l

lowing

manner."

A hush f e l l upon the entire assembly, as the

speaker,

ending

this

exhortation,

knelt

on

the

floor

and began to rep ea t the

beautiful

prayer of Calvin's

liturgy. His colleagues on his right hand and on

his l e f t

a ls o knel t. This example

was

contagious.

The queen-mother f e l l on her knees. The

cardinals

1

Contemporary

f r a g m e n t ( T r o n c h i n

MSS.)

i n

Baum, i i . ,

2 3 8 .

B e z a ' s harangue a t P o i s s y i s g i v e n by La P l a c e , 1 5 9 , f o i l . ; by t h e

H i s t . £ c c U s . , i . , 5 6 0 - 5 7 7 .



1 5 6 i ]

Colloquy

of Poissy 163

and possibly the bis hop s arose and stood with un

covered

heads

while

Beza

reverently

uttered

the

Huguenot

confession of sins and supplication for

pardon—he very words that had been used and

were s t i l l

to be used by many a martyr suffering the

penalty

of death for

attending

conventicles where

this

prayer was customarily repeated.

His words

were:

" Lord God Almighty and everlasting Father, we

acknowledge and confess before Thy holy Majesty that

we are

miserable sinners, conceived a nd

born

i n g u i l t

a nd

corruption,

prone

t o d o

e v i l , u n f i t

for

any

good;

who, by reason of our

depravity, transgress

unceasingly

Thy holy commandments. Whereby

we dr aw down

upon

ourselves,

by

Thy j u s t judgment,

ruin and

perdition.

Nevertheless, O Lord, we are sore displeased that we

have offended Thee, and we condemn ourselves a nd our

e v i l ways,

with a

true repentance,

beseeching Thee that

Thy grace

may

suc cour our d i s t r e s s .

Be

pleased,

there

f o r e ,

to have pity

upon

u s , O

most

gracious God

Father

of a l l mercies for the sake of

Thy

Son Jesus C h r i s t , our

Lord

and only Redeemer. Blot out our

s i n s

and our

pollution, and

s e t

us f r e e , a nd

gra nt us the

daily

increase

of the graces

of

Thy Holy S p i r i t ; t o the

end

t h a t , acknow

ledging

from our inmost

hearts

our

unrighteousness,

we

may

be

touched

with

a

sorrow

that

s h a l l

work

i n us

true

repentance, and that t h i s

may

cause us t o die unto a l l

s i n a nd t o bring forth the f r u i t s of

righteousness

a nd

purity

that s h a l l , be well

pleasing t o Thee,

through

the

s a m e Jesus Christ, our Lord a nd only Saviour.

" And, inasmuch as i t doth please Thee t h i s d a y so

f a r

t o

exhibit

Thy

favour

t o Thy poor

and unprofitable serv

a n t s , as t o

enable them

f r e e l y ,

and

i n the presence of



164

Theodore

Beza [ I 5 i ^ -

the king whom Thou hast s e t over them,

and

of the

most noble and i l l u s t r i o u s company

on e a r t h ,

to declare

that which

Thou

hast given

them t o

know of

Thy

holy

t r u t h ,

may i t

please Thee t o continue the

course

of Thy

goodness a nd loving-kindness, O God and Father of

l i g h t s , and so t o illumine our understandings, guide our

a f f e c t i o n s ,

and

form them

t o a l l teachableness, a nd

so t o

order our words,

that i n a l l

simplicity

a nd

t r u t h ,

a f t e r

having

conceived, according to the measure

which

i t

s h a l l please Thee t o

grant

unto u s , the secret things

which

Thou hast

revealed

t o men for t h e i r

salvation,

we

may

be

able with heart and with

mouth t o s e t

forth that

which may

conduce

t o the glory a nd honour of

Thy

holy

name, and the prosperity and greatness of our king a nd

of a l l those that belong t o him, with the r e s t and

comfort

of a l l

Christendom,

and

especially

of

t h i s kingdom.

O

Almighty Lord a nd Father, we ask Thee a l l these things

i n

the

name

and

for

the

sake

of

Jesus

C h r i s t ,

Thy

S on

our

Saviour, a s

He Himself hath taught

us t o

seek them,

saying,

'

Our

Father,

which

a r t

i n heaven,' " e t c .

The solemn confession of sins of the Genevan

liturgy,

and the

equally

beautiful

prayer of

Beza's

own

composition

with which he had

associated

i t ,

predisposed his hearers to listen to the eloquent and

forcible address to his Majesty

that

followed.

" Sire," he

s a i d ,

when he had r i s e n from h i s knees a nd

again stood

a t

the bar, "it

i s

a great happiness

for a

loyal a nd affectionate subject

t o

look- upon

the

face of

h i s prince,

since i t represents t o him,

a s

i t were,

the

v i s i b l e majesty of God , a nd he cannot therefore but be

greatly moved by the sight t o consider the

obedience

a nd submission that

he

owes him. But i f i t so

happen,




that

not

only

i s he

permitte4

t o see h i s

prince,

but a l s o

be

seen

of

him,

and,

what

i s

of

more

importance,

heard

a nd f i n a l l y received a nd a p prov ed , then

truly

i s h i s a

very

great

and

peculiar s a t i s f a c t i o n .

" Of these four ad vantages ,

S i r e ,

i t has pleased

God

i n

H is secret counsels that a part of

your

very humble

a nd obedient subjects should for a long time

have

been

deprived

t o t h e i r

very great regret; u n t i l now i n H is

mercy, hav ing hea rd

our continual c r i e s

and

groans, He

has

so

favoured

us

as

t o

grant

us

a

blessing rather

desired

than hoped f o r—he blessing of seeing your Majesty,

S i r e , and, better s t i l l , of being seen and heard by you

i n the most noble and i l l u s t r i o u s company on e a r t h .

Should we

therefore

never receive

any

other advantage

now or

hereafter, yet

would

the remainder of

our

l i v e s

be i n s u f f i c i e n t

duly

t o thank our God a nd render worthy

praises t o your

Majesty.

"

But

when,

together

with

t h i s ,

we

consider

that

t h i s

same d a y not merely

opens the

way, but

i n v i t e s

us and,

a f t e r so benignant

and

gracious a fashion

and

one so be

coming your royal gentleness, constrains us

unitedly

t o

t e s t i f y t o our

obligation

t o confess the name

of

our

God,

and

t o d ec la re the obedience we render you, we are

com

pelled t o admit, S i r e , that our intelligence i s incapable

of conceiving the magnitude of such a boon, our tongues

s t i l l

l e s s

competent

t o

express

what

affection enjoins.

S o

great a favour surpassing a l l human eloquence, we prefer

t o

confess our own impotence

by a

modest s i l e n c e , rather

than

b e l i t t l e such a

benefit

by the

defect

of our words."

Having thus giv en utterance in graceful

periods,

i f in

an exaggerated style quite

foreig n to

the taste

of our later times , to those sentiments of submission

which

the men

of

the

sixteenth

century

found

none






that

we

should reopen

ancient

sores

by

rehearsing them

now

that

we are on the point, not of making

lamentations

a nd complaints, but of seeking the most p rom p t a nd

suitable

remedies.

" And what

then gives

us such assurance i n the midst

o f so many hindrances ? S i r e , i t i s no reliance upon

anything

i n

u s ,

seeing that

we a r e ,

i n every

way,

of

the

smallest

and most

contemptible

i n

the world.

Neither

i s

i t , thank God

a vain

presumption or arrogance,

f o r

our vesture a nd lowly condition do not comport there

with. I t i s r a t h e r , S i r e , our good

conscience, which

assures

us

of

the excellence and j u s t i c e of our

cause,

of

which, therefore,

we

hope that our

God,

by means

of

your

Majesty,

w i l l

be

the

defender a nd

protector. I t i s

also the gentleness already t o be recognised i n your

f a c e ,

your speech, a nd your countenance. I t i s the

equity

which we see a nd have learned

by

experience

t o be im

pressed

upon your

h e a r t , Madam, —

ere he

turned t o

Catharine de' Medici. It

i s

the uprightness of you,

S i r e , a nd the i l l u s t r i o u s Princes of the Blood,"—h i s

l i e s a i d , bowing t o the King of Navarre, the Prince of

Conde,

and those that

s a t with them.

It

i s

also

the

evident grounds we have

t o cherish

the hope

that

you,

our highly honoured lords of the Council,

conforming

yourselves t o one and the same resolution, w i l l not be

l e s s

inclined

t o

gra nt us

so

holy a nd necessary a concord

than

we are t o

receive i t . And what

more

s h a l l

we

say ?

There i s

s t i l l another

consideration that encourages

u s .

I t i s

that

we presume,

according

to the rule of c h a r i t y ,

that you,

gentlemen,

with whom we are t o confer "—nd

here he

turned

t o the cardinals a nd bishops on h i s r i g h t

and on

h i s

l e f t— w i l l exert yourselves i n conjunction

with u s ,

according

t o our small measure,

rather

t o clear

up the truth than to obscure i t ; t o instruct rather than



1 68 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i 9 -

t o debate; t o weigh arguments rather than t o gainsay;

i n

s h o r t ,

to

prevent

the

malady

from

making

farther

progress rather than

t o

render i t altogether incurable a nd

f a t a l . Such,

gentlemen,

i s the opinion we have con

ceived of

you,

and we pray you, i n the

name

of that

great God who has gathered us here and who

w i l l be

the

Judge of our thoughts a nd of our words, that notwith

standing

everything that

has

been

s a i d , written, or done

during

the

space

of forty years

or

thereabouts,

you

w i l l

with

us

lay

aside

a l l

the

passions

a nd

prejudices

that

might hinder the f r u i t s of so holy and praiseworthy an

undertaking, and that you w i l l expect of u s , i f you p l e a s e ,

wha t, with the help of

God's

grace,

you

w i l l

find i n

u s ,

namely,

a

mind tractable a nd

ready t o receive

everything

that

s h a l l

be proved by the pure Word of God.

"

Do

not think

that

we are

come

t o maintain

any

e r r o r , but to discover and correct every defect that s h a l l

be

found,

either

on

your

side

or

on

ours.

Do

not

r e

gard

us

a s

possessed

of

such overweening conceit

a s t o

undertake t o ruin

the

Church of our

God which we

know

t o be

e t e r n a l . Do not

imagine

that

we are

seeking

the means of making you l i k e unto ourselves i n our poor

a nd

humble

condition, wherein nevertheless, thank God,

we find singular contentment. Our desire i s that the

ruins of Jerusalem

may be r e b u i l t ;

that t h i s s p i r i t u a l

temple

may

r i s e

again;

that

the

house

of

God

b u i l t o f

l i v i n g

stones may be

restored

i n

i t s

i n t e g r i t y ; that the

f l o c k s so scattered a nd

dispersed

by a

j u s t vengeance

o f

God a nd by the carelessness of men, may be

r a l l i e d

and

gathered again

i n

the sheepfold of the su preme and only

Shepherd.

" Such

i s

our

purpose,

such a l l our

desire

and our i n

tention, gentlemen. I f you

have

not

believed

i t hereto

f o r e ,

we

hope

that

you

w i l l

believe

i t

when

we

s h a l l

have



1 5 6 1 ] Colloquy of Poissy 169

conferred, i n a l l patience and mildness, res pecting what

God has given

u s .

Would

t o

God

t h a t ,

without going

f a r t h e r ,

instead

of entering

upon

opposing arguments,

we might

a l l

r a i s e a

hymn

t o the Lord

and join hands

with one another, as has sometimes ha p pened between

the

armies

even of unbelievers a nd i n f i d e l s drawn up i n

b a t t l e

array.

I t

were

a great shame

f o r

us i f we profess

t o

preach the doctrine of peace a nd

good w i l l

and mean

time

are the

most

e a s i l y estranged a nd the

most d i f f i c u l t

t o

reconcile.

What

then

?

These

things

men

c an

a nd

ought t o desire; but i t belongs t o God t o grant

them,

a s

also He w i l l do when i t s h a l l please Him t o

cover

our

s i n s by H is goodness a nd dissipate our darkness by H is

l i g h t .

" And while on t h i s t o p i c , S i r e , i n

order that i t

may

be understood

that

we intend t o proceed with a good

conscience, simply, c l e a r l y , and frankly, we s h a l l de

c l a r e ,

i f

i t

please

your Majesty

t o

grant us

permission,

what

i n

sum

a re the

principal points

of

t h i s

conference;

yet i n such a manner t h a t , with God's help, no one

s h a l l

have

any

j u s t

occasion of

offence.

There are

some

who

think and would gladly

persuade

others that

we

d i f f e r

only respecting things

of s l i g h t

consequence, or respect

ing

matters that

are indifferent

rather

than e s s e n t i a l

points

i n our f a i t h .

There

are

others

who, quite on the

contrary,

through

lack

of

being

well

informed

respecting

our b e l i e f ,

suppose

that

we

are agreed as t o nothing

whatever, any more than Jews or Mohammedans. The

intention of the former

i s

a s praiseworthy

as

the opinion

of

the l a t t e r i s

t o

be

rejected.

This

w i l l ,

we

hope,

ap

pear i n the sequel. But certainly

neither

those who hold

the one nor those that hold the other view open the way

t o a true

and

s o l i d agreement.

For i f

the

l a t t e r

are

t o

be

believed,

the

one

of the

two

parties

can

e x i s t

only

by




ruining the other, a

thing

too inhuman t o be

thought

of

a nd

most horrible i n the execution. I f again the opinion

of the former i s t o be received, i t w i l l be necessary

that many matters

remain

undecided. From t h i s there

w i l l r e s u l t

discord

more

dangerous and. damaging than

e v e r .

" Thus, then,

we

admit (and

we

c an scarcely make the

admission without t e a r s )

that

j u s t

as

we

agree respecting

some of

the

principal points

of our Christian f a i t h , so

a l s o we disagree a s t o a part of them. We confess that

there i s one only God, i n one a nd the same i n f i n i t e a nd

incomprehensible

essence, d i s t i n c t i n three

persons, con-

substantial

a nd

equal i n

everything and

everywhere,

that

i s

t o

say:

the

Father

unbegotten, the

Son

eternally be

gotten of the Fa ther, and the Holy Ghost proceeding

from the Father and the Son. We

acknowledge

one

onl y J es us C h r i s t ,

true God

and

true

man, without

con

fusion or

separation

of

the two natures

or of

the

proper

t i e s

of

the same.

We

acknowledge

that

i n so f a r

as He

i s m an , He i s not the son of Joseph, but wa s conceived

by the secret power of the Holy

Ghost i n

the

womb of

the

Blessed Virgin

Mary, v i r g i n , I

s a y ,

both before

a nd

a f t e r H is b i r t h . We acknowledge H is n a t i v i t y , H is l i f e ,

H is death, H is b u r i a l . H is descent into h e l l , H is resur

r e c t i o n ,

and H is

ascension,

as they

are contained

i n

the

Holy

Gospel. We believe that He i s

on

high

i n the s k i e s ,

seated on the

right

hand of

God, where

he w i l l remain

u n t i l He comes t o judge the quick a nd the

dead. We

believe i n the Holy Ghost, who enlightens, comforts, a nd

sustains

u s .

We believe that

there i s

a holy Catholic,

that

i s , universal

Church,

which i s the

assembly a nd

communion

of s a i n t s ,

outside of

which

there

i s no

salva

t i o n . We are assured of the f r e e remission of our s i n s

through

the

blood

of

Jesus C h r i s t , i n

virtue of

which,



1 5 6 1 ]

Colloquy of Poissy 1 7 1

a f t e r that

these same bodies being

raised

again s h a l l have

been

reunited

to

our

s o u l s ,

we

s h a l l

enjoy

blessed

a nd

eternal

l i f e

with God.

" '

How then ?

'

someone

w i l l

s a y .

'

Are

not these

the

a r t i c l e s

of our f a i t h ? Wherein then are we

discord

ant ? ' F i r s t , i n the interpretation of a part of them ;

secondly, i n

that

i t seems t o us (and, i f we are mistaken

i n t h i s

p a r t i c u l a r ,

we

s h a l l be

very glad

to know

i t ) ,

that

men

have not been s a t i s f i e d

with

the aforesaid a r t i c l e s ,

but

f o r

a

long time

have

not

ceased

adding

a r t i c l e s

t o

a r t i c l e s ;

a s

i f the Christian religion were a structure that

i s

never

completed. Moreover, we say that what has been

newly

b u i l t ,

so

f a r a s we

are able t o

l e a r n ,

ha s not a lwa ys

been

b u i l t upon

the ol d

foundations.

Consequently i t

rather

d i s f i g u r e s

the

structure

than serves

to deck i t

out

a nd adorn

i t .

Nevertheless more attention has often

been given t o these

accessories

than t o what i s e s s e n t i a l .

But

t o

the

end

that

our

intention

may

be

s t i l l

better

understood,

we

s h a l l bring out these points i n

d e t a i l .

We

a s s e r t , therefore, a nd we hope to establish our

assertion i n a l l sobriety

by

the testimony of the Holy

Scriptures, that the true God,

i n

whom

we

are

t o

believe,

i s

robbed

of H is perfect righteousness,

i f we

undertake

t o

s e t

up ,

i n

opposition

t o

H is anger and j u s t judgment

any

other s a t i s f a c t i o n or

cleansing,

i n t h i s

world or i n the

next,

than

that

entire and

com p l ete obedien ce

which

c an

be

found i n no other than i n one only Jesus C h r i s t .

And, i n l i k e manner, i f we say that He f r e e s us from only

one p art of our debts, inasmuch as

we

p a y the other, He

i s

despoiled of

H is perfect mercy.

Hence

i t

follows,

so

f a r a s we c an judge,

that

when we would

learn

on

what

ground we obtain paradise we must take our stand upon

the death

and passion

of

one only Jesus Christ, our

Saviour

and

Redeemer,

or

e l s e ,

instead

of

the true

God,



i72

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 i 9 -

we s houl d a dore a

strange

God, who would be

neither

perfectly

j u s t

nor

perfectly merciful.

" From t h i s also depends another point of very great

importance

touching the o f f i c e

of Jesus

C h r i s t .

For i f

He alone

i s not entirely our

salvation, that

so precious

name of Jesus,

that

i s t o s a y , Saviour, announced by the

angel Gabriel, would not

be

H is proper name. In l i k e

manner,

i f

He i s not our only prophet, having f u l l y made

known t o us the w i l l of God H is father f o r our

s a l v a t i o n ,

f i r s t , by

the

mouth

of

the

prophets,

afterwards

i n

person

i n

the fulness of times, and l a t e r by H is f a i t h f u l apostles;

i f He

i s

not also the

s o l e

head a nd s p i r i t u a l king of our

consciences;

i f He.

i s

not also our only eternal p r i e s t ,

a f t e r

the order

of Melchisedec,

having, by one offering

of

Himself,

made once a nd never

repeated,

reconciled

men t o God, and become now sole intercessor for us i n

heaven

u n t i l the

end of

the world; i n s h o r t , i f we are not

altogether

complete

i n

Him

alone,

then

the name

a nd

t i t l e of Messiah or C h r i s t , that

i s

t o s a y , anointed of

God

a nd devoted t o t h i s end, w i l l not

belong

t o Him.

" I f , therefore,

men w i l l

not

be

s a t i s f i e d with Christ's

own word alone, f a i t h f u l l y preached

and

subsequently

reduced t o

writing by

the prophets a nd a p o s t l e s , Christ

i s dispossessed of H is o f f i c e of

prophet. He i s a l s o de

graded f rom H is position

as head a nd s p i r i t u a l

king

of

H is Church, i f

new

laws

are

made

for

men's

consciences,

a nd from H is place a s p r i e s t forever, by those who

undertake t o o f f e r Him up anew

f o r the

remission of s i n s

a nd who

are not s a t i s f i e d t o have

Him

a s s o l e

advocate

a nd intercessor i n heaven

between

God a nd men.

" In the third place,

we

are not agreed either a s t o the

d e f i n i t i o n ,

or

as

t o the

o r i g i n ,

or a s

t o

the e f f e c t s of the

f a i t h which, following Saint

Paul,

we

c a l l ' justifying

f a i t h , '

a nd

through

which

alone

we

believe

that

Jesus



1 5 6 i ]

Colloquy of

Poissy 173

Christ with

a l l H is benefits

i s applied t o u s . As t o

good

works,

i f

there

are

some

persons

who

regard

us

as

de

spising them,

they

are very i l l informed; f o r we do not

separate f a i t h from charity any more than we c an sepa

r a t e

l i g h t a nd heat. And

we

say with Saint

John,

i n

h i s

f i r s t e p i s t l e , that whoever says that

he

knows God and

does

not keep H is commandments makes

himself

a l i a r

by h i s own conscience a nd i n h i s entire l i f e . However,

we frankly confess that

we

disagree i n t h i s matter on

three principal

p o i n t s .

The

f i r s t

i s

touching

the

origin

a nd

f i r s t source from

whic h good works proceed;

the

second,

what they are; the t h i r d , f o r what they are good.

As t o the f i r s t , we find no

other

f r e e w i l l i n man save that

which i s made free by the s o l e grace of our Lord Jesus

Christ; a nd

we say

that our nature, i n

the

s t a t e into

which i t

i s f a l l e n ,

needs

before

a l l

things

t o

be, not

helped a nd sustained,

but rather s l a i n

and mortified

by

the power of God's

S p i r i t ,

inasmuch a s grace finds i t not

only wounded a nd weakened, but altogether destitute

of

strength

a nd

opposed t o

everything that i s

good,

y e s ,

even

dead a nd decayed i n s i n

and

corruption. And we

render

t h i s honour t o God,

that

we d o not

claim

t o

share

i n t h i s

matter

with Him. For we

ascribe

the beginning,

a nd the middle, a nd the end of our

good

works t o H is

s o l e grace

a nd

mercy

working i n

u s . As t o the second

point, we accept no other

rule

of righteousness and

obedience before

God than H is commandments,

a s they

are written a nd recorded i n H is Holy Word. To these

commandments we do not regar d i t lawful for any

creat

ure t o add, nor t o subtract from them, so a s t o bind the

conscience. Respecting the

third

p o i n t , namely,

f o r

what purpose they are

good,

we

confess

that so

f a r

as

they

proceed

from

the

S p i r i t

o f

God working

i n u s ,

since

they proceed from

so

good a source, they ought t o



174

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

be called

good,

although i f God were t o

examine them

s t r i c t l y ,

He

would

find

only

too

much

t o

find

f a u l t

with.

"

We

say also

that

they are good for

another

purpose,

inasmuch

as by

them our God i s g l o r i f i e d ,

men

are drawn

to the knowledge of Him, a nd

we

are assured t h a t , the

S p i r i t of God dwelling i n us (a fact which i s known by

i t s

f r u i t s ) , we are of the number of

H is

e l e c t

and prede

stinated

t o

salvation. But

when we seek t o discover

on

what grounds we have eternal l i f e , we say with Saint

Paul

that

i t

i s

a

free

g i f t

of

God,

a nd

not

a

reward

d ue

t o

our merits. For Jesus C h r i s t , i n

t h i s respect,

j u s t i f i e s

us by

H is sole righteousness, which i s imputed

t o u s ,

s a n c t i f i e s us

by

H is holiness,

which i s

imparted t o u s , a nd

has redeemed us by H is one s a c r i f i c e of Himself,

which

i s

granted

t o u s , through

a true and

living f a i t h , by

the

mere grace and free g i f t of our

God.

. All these treasures

are communicated by the power

of

the Holy Ghost,

making

use

to

t h i s

end

of

the

preaching

of

God's

Word

and

the administration of H is Holy Sacraments.

Not

that these are neces sa ry, s eeing that He i s Almighty

God, but

forasmuch as i t pleases Him to

make use

of

these ordinary

means

t o

create and

nurture

i n

us

that

precious g i f t of f a i t h

which

i s as i t were the only hand

to lay hold on, a nd a s i t were the only vessel t o receive

Jesus Christ

for

salvation with a l l H is treasures."

From this exposition

of the

Protestant view

of

good works the s p ea ker naturally proceeded to con

sider the Word

of

God

and

the Sacraments to which

he had just referred.

"

We

receive

a s

the

Word

of

God

only the

teachings

recorded i n

the

books of the prophets and

a p o s t l e s ,

called the Ol d a nd

New

Testaments, For by

whom



Colloquy of Poissy

s h a l l

we

be

c e r t i f i e d

of our salvation

i f not by

those who

are

witnesses

above

reproach

?

As

t o

the

writings

of

the

ancient Doctors and the Councils, before receiving them

without dispute, we should

have

f i r s t

t o

make them accord

altogether with the Scriptures,

and

next among them

s e l v e s ;

seeing

that the S p i r i t of God never

contradicts

Himself. This, gentlemen,

we

think you w i l l never

undertake t o do. Should you undertake t o

d o

i t , you

w i l l

please

p ardon

us

i f

we say that

we

s h a l l never believe

i t

possible

u n t i l

we

see

i t

actually

accomplished.

What

then ? Are we of the race of that wretched Ham, son

of

Noah, who

uncovered h i s

father's

nakedness

? Do

we

esteem

ourselves more

learned

than

so

many

ancient

Greek and Latin

Fathers

? Are

we so

conceited as

t o

think that

we are the

f i r s t

that have discovered the

truth

a nd t o

condemn

f o r ignorance the whole world

?

God

forbid, gentlemen, that

we

should

be

such. But me-

thinks

you

w i l l

allow

that

there

ha v e been

Councils

a nd

Councils, Doctors

and

Doctors, seeing

that

i t i s not i n our

days alone that there have been f a l s e prophets i n the

Church of God, a s the apostles warn us i n a number of

places

and, p a r t i c u l a r l y ,

i n the

fourth chapter

of the

f i r s t

e p i s t l e t o Timothy,

a nd

i n the

twentieth chapter

of the

Acts of the Apostles. In the second place, a s t o the

Councils and Doctors

that

are

received,

since a l l the truth

t h a t

c an

be found

i n

them

must

necessarily

ha v e been

drawn

from the Scriptures, what more

certain

means

s h a l l

we

find

of deriving

benefit from their intelligence

than

by

testing

everything

by

that touchstone, and con

sidering the testimony

and

the reasons given

by

the

Scriptures, on

which they

w i l l be found to have based

t h e i r

interpretation ? "

The

conclusion

drawn by

Beza

i s :



176 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

"

We

therefore

receive

the Holy Scriptures a s a com

plete

declaration

of

everything needful

f o r

our

salvation.

As t o what may

be

found i n Councils or i n the books of

the Doctors, we

cannot a nd ought

not t o prevent you,

or ourselves, from

deriving

help from

them, provided

i t

be f ound ed on the express testimony of Scripture. But,

f o r the honour of God , do not bring up t o us t h e i r bare

authority, without trying

everything

by

t h i s touchstone.

For we say

with

Saint Augustine ( i n the second book

of

Christian

Doctrine,

chapter

s i x t h )

: '

I f

there

be

any

d i f f i c u l t y i n the interpretation of a p assage, the Holy

Ghost hath so tempered the Holy Scriptures, that what

i s obscurely

stated

i n one place, i s very

clearly

stated

elsewhere.'

I

have spoken

a t

some

length

on t h i s

p o i n t ,

i n order

that

everyone may understand that we are not

enemies either of

the Councils or of the ol d

Fathers, by

whom

God

has been pleased to

instruct

H is Church."

Beza

had

reserved

to

the

l a s t

the

consideration

of

two subjects—he Sacraments and the government

of the

Church.

He

excused

himself

on

the

ground

of lack of time from the fuller treatment of the

former

which

i t s importance would justify, and

confined

himself to

a summary statement

of

the

belief of the Protestant Churches.

" We are i n agreement [with the Roman Catholics]

a s

we

think," said

h e , " i n the

description

of t h i s word

' sacrament,' namely, that the sacraments are

v i s i b l e

signs by means of which our union with ou r Lord Jesus

Christ

i s not

simply s i g n i f i e d

or

represented

t o u s , but

a l s o

i s

truly offered

on

the Lord's s i d e ,

and consequently

r a t i f i e d , sealed, a nd a s i t were engraven by the virtue of

the Holy

Ghost

upon

those who

by a

true f a i t h

a p pre



t 5 6 i ] Colloquy of

Poissy 1

77

hend

Him

who i s thus

s i g n i f i e d

a nd presented t o them.

I use

t h i s

word ' s i g n i f i e d , ' gentlemen, not

t o enervate

or

annihilate the sacraments,

but

t o distinguish the

sign

from

the

thing i t

s i g n i f i e s i n

a l l virtue a nd e f f i c a c y .

Consequently, we grant that i n the sacraments there

must of necessity intervene a heavenly a nd supernatural

mutation. For we do not a s s e r t that the

water

of the

Holy Baptism

i s

simply water,

but

that i t i s

a

true sacra

ment of our regeneration a nd of the cleansing of our

souls i n the blood of Jesus C h r i s t . In l i k e manner, we

do

not a s s e r t that i n

the Holy

S u p p er

of

our

Lord

the

bread

i s

simply bread, but the sacrament

of the

precious

body of our Lord Jesus Christ

which

wa s given

for us;

nor that the wine i s

simply

wine, but the sacrament of

the precious

blood that

wa s shed for u s . However, we

do not say that t h i s change

i s

effected i n the substance

of the

s i g n s ,

but

i n

the use and the end

for

which they

are

ordained.

Nor

again

d o we say

that i t

i s

effected

by

virtue

of certain

words

pronounced,

nor

by

the

intention

of him who p ronounce s the m; but by the s o l e p ower a nd

w i l l of Him who has ordained t h i s action so divine a nd

heavenly,

of which

therefore the i n s t i t u t i o n ought

t o

be

repeated aloud

a nd c l e a r l y , i n

a

tongue that

i s

under

stood, a nd d i s t i n c t l y s e t f o r t h y i n order

that

i t may be

understood a nd

received

by a l l that

are

present. S o

much

f o r the

external

s i g n s .

Let us come to what i s

t e s t i f i e d

a nd

exhibited

by

the Lord

through

these s i g n s .

"

We do

not

s a y , what

some, i n consequence of

having

f a i l e d t o understand us

w e l l ,

have

thought that

we teach ;

namely,

that

i n the Holy S u p p er there i s a simple

com

memoration

of the death of our Lord Jesus. Therefore

we do not say that i n i t we are made partakers merely of

the f r u i t of H is death a nd

passion;

but

we

join the i n

heritance

with

the

f r u i t s

proceeding

theref rom , s aying

1 2



1

78 Theodore Beza. Os1*-

with

Saint

Paul i n the tenth

chapter

of

First

Corinthians,

that

the bread

which

we break according t o H is i n s t i t u

tion

i s

the communion

of

the true body of

Jesus Christ

whic h wa s given for u s , and that the c up of which we

drink i s the communion of the true blood which was shed

f o r us; even i n that same substance which He assumed i n

the

womb

of the Virgin and which He took from among

us to heaven. And I pray

you,

gentlemen,

i n God's

name,

what

c an you

therefore seek

or

find

i n

t h i s

holy

sacrament

which

we also do not seek a nd find there ? "

The statement was certainly far removed from the

view

of

the

Reformer Zwingli

and of the

Sacrament-

arians so called. But Beza did not hid e from

himself

the fact that

i t

would satisfy neither the Roman

Catholics nor the

Lutherans.

"

I

understand very well

that

a reply i s quite ready on

t h i s

point.

The

one

party

w i l l

ask

us

to

acknowledge

that

the bread a nd wine are transmuted,

I

do not say

into sacraments of the body a nd

blood

of our Lord

Jesus Christ

( f o r

t h i s

we

have already admitted), but

into the

very

body

a nd

blood

of

Jesus

C h r i s t . The

other

party, perhaps, w i l l

not-

press

us so

f a r

as t h i s ,

but w i l l

require us t o grant that the body and blood are r e a l l y

a nd

corporeally either

i n ,

or with, or

under

the brea d.

But

on

t h i s

matter,

gentlemen,

for

the

honour

of

God,

hear

us patiently without being scandalised, a nd p ut o f f

for a time

a l l

the opinion you have conceived of u s .

When either one of these opinions

s h a l l

have been proved

t o

us by Holy Scripture,

we are

ready t o embrace i t a nd

to

hold

i t

u n t i l

death.

But

i t seems

t o u s , according t o

the small measure of knowledge that we have received of

God, that t h i s transubstantiation i s

inconsistent

with the



1 5 6 i ] Colloquy of Poissy 1 79

analogy a nd propriety of our f a i t h , insomuch as i t i s

directly

contrary

t o

the

nature

of

the

sacraments,

i n

which the substantial

signs must of necessity

continue t o

be true signs of the substance of the body

and

blood of

Jegus Christ; and i t likewise overthrows the truth of H is

human nature and H is ascension. I say the l i k e of the

second

opinion, that

of

consubstantiation, which,

i n

addition

to a l l that

has been

s a i d ,

has no foundation i n

the words of Jesus C h r i s t , a nd i s i n nowise necessary t o

our being

partakers

of

the

f r u i t

of the

sacraments.

" I f hereupon someone asks us whether

we make

Jesus

Christ

to

be absent

f rom H is Holy

Supper, we

reply

that

we d o n o t .

But

i f we

look t o

the distance of the p l ac es

( a s we must when the question respects H is corporeal

presence a nd H is humanity distinctively considered), we

say that H is body i s a s f a r removed from the bread a nd

wine

as

the highest heaven

i s

removed from the

e a r t h , i n

view

of

the

f a c t

t h a t ,

so

f a r a s

we

are

concerned,

we are

on the earth and the sacraments a l s o , and that as

t o

Him,

H is f l e s h

i s

i n heaven, g l o r i f i e d i n such wise t h a t ,

a s

says

Saint Augustine, glory has not

taken

away from

Him

the

nature of a true bod y, but i t s

i n f i r m i t y .

I f then anyone

would conclude

from t h i s

that

we make

Jesus Christ

ab

sent

f rom H is

Holy

Supper,

we answer

that

t h i s

i s

an

erroneous conclusion; for we render t h i s

honour

t o

God,

that we

believe,

according

to

H is

Word,

t h a t ,

although the body of Jesus Christ

i s

now i n heaven a nd

not elsewhere, a nd

we are on

the earth and not e l s e

where,

we are nevertheless

made

partakers of

H is body

a nd

blood

i n a s p i r i t u a l manner

and

by means

of

f a i t h ,

a s veritably as we see the sacraments with the eye, touch

them with the

hand,

p ut them into our

mouth,

a nd

l i v e

of

t h e i r

substance

i n t h i s

bodily

l i f e .

"

This,

gentlemen,

i s

i n

sum

our

f a i t h

on

t h i s

p o i n t .



180

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 i 9 -

As

i t seems t o

us

(and i f we are mistaken we s h a l l be

very

glad t o be

informed) i t does

no

violence

t o

the

words of Jesus Christ or of

Saint

Paul. I t

does

not

de

stroy

the

human nature

of Jesus

C h r i s t ,

nor the a r t i c l e

of H is ascension, nor the i n s t i t u t i o n of the sacraments.

I t does not open the

door

t o any curious a nd inexplicable

questions and

d i s t i n c t i o n s .

I t does

not a t

a l l detract

from our union with Jesus Christ,

which

i s the chief end

for which the sacraments were

i n s t i t u t e d ,

a nd not t o be

either adored, or kept, or carried, or offered t o God.

And

l a s t l y , i f we

are not

deceived,

i t does much

more

honour t o

the

power

and

t o the

word of

the

Son

of God

than

i f

we imagine

that

H is body must be r e a l l y joined t o

the signs i n order that

we

should become partakers of

them.

" We d o not touch on what rem a in s con cernin g the

administration

of

Holy

Baptism; for

we believe that

no

one

of

you,

gentlemen,

would

place

us

i n

the

ranks

of

the anabaptists, who have no stouter enemies than we

a r e . And

a s

t o some other particular

questions

on t h i s

s c o r e , we hope, with God's

help,

t h a t , the chief points

being s e t t l e d i n t h i s mild

and

friendly conference, the

r e s t w i l l be

concluded of i t s e l f .

As t o the

other f i v e so-called sacraments,

true

i t

i s

that

we

cannot give them t h i s

name

u n t i l

we have

been

better

instructed

i n

the

Holy

Scriptures.

Meanwhile,

however, we

think

that we have re-established true con

firmation,

which consists i n catechising a nd

instructing

those

that

have been baptised i n infancy, and i n

general

a ll

persons

before

admitting them t o the

Lord's

Supper.

We

teach true

penitence

a l s o ,

which

consists i n a true

acknowledgment of one's

f a u l t s

and s a t i s f a c t i o n

t o

the

offended p a r t i e s ,

be

i t

public or p r i v a t e , i n the

absolu

tion

which

we

have

i n

the

blood

of

Jesus

C h r i s t ,

a nd

i n



1 5 6 i ] Colloquy

of

Poissy 1 8 1

amendment of l i f e . We a p prove of marriage, following

the

injunction

of

Saint Paul,

i n

the

case

of

a l l

those

who

have

' n o t the g i f t of

continence,

a nd

consequently

d o not

think i t

lawful t o bind anyone

thereto

by a vow

or

p er

petual

profession,

and

we

condemn a l l wantonness a nd

l u s t i n word, gesture, or a c t . We receive the degrees of

e c c l e s i a s t i c a l

charges

according

a s God has ordained

them

i n H is house

by

H is

Holy

Word. We

approve

of

the v i s i t a t i o n of t h e s i c k a s a principal part of the sacred

ministry

of

the

Gospel.

We

tea ch with

Saint

Paul

t o

judge

no man

i n

a

distinction

of

days a nd

meats,

know

ing

that

the

kingdom

of God

does

not

consist i n such

corruptible t h i n g s . Meanwhile,

however,

we condemn

a ll dissoluteness,

exhorting

men continually t o a l l so

b r i e t y ,

t o

the mortification of the f l e s h

according t o

every

ma n ' s

need, a nd t o assiduous

prayer.

" There s t i l l remains the l a s t point—oncerning the

external

order

a n d g ov e rn me nt

of

the

Church. Respect

ing

t h i s ,

we are of the opinion

that

we

may

be permitted,

gentlemen, t o s a y , with your consent, that everything

therein

i s

so

perverted,

that everything

i s

i n such con

fusion a nd

r u i n ,

t h a t , whether one

consider the order a s

now

established, or have a

regard

t o l i f e

and

manners,

scarcely c an the best

architects

i n the world

recognise

the marks a nd vestiges of that ancient e d i f i c e so well a d

justed

by

the

apostles

with

com p a s s

a nd

r u l e .

Of

t h i s

you yourselves are

good

witnesses,

as you

have

busied

yourselves about i t of l a t e . In s h o r t , we s h a l l pass over

these matters, which are s u f f i c i e n t l y well understood,

a nd which i t were better t o cover i n silence than t o u t t e r .

" To conclude, we declare before God and H is angels,

before your Majesty, S i r e , a nd a ll the i l l u s t r i o u s company

that i s about

you,

that our only purpose a nd desire i s

that

the

form

of

the

Church

may

be brought

back

t o

the



1

82

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

simple purity

and beauty

which i t

had

i n the

times

of the

ap ostl es of

our

Lord

Jesus

Christ;

and,

as

t o

those

things

that

have since

been

added,

that

such

as

s h a l l be

found

s u p e r s t i t i o u s , or manifestly

contrary t o the Word

of God, maybe altogether abolished; that those which

are superfluous

may

be cut o f f ,

that

those

which

experi

ence

has

taught us

lead t o

superstition

may be r em ov ed .

I f there be found others useful and proper for e d i f i c a

t i o n , after a mature consideration of the

ancient

canons

and

authorities

of

the Fathers,

l e t

them

be

retained

and

observed i n G od ' s n am e, according

t o what may be suited

t o the times,

places, and

persons, t o the end

that

with

one accord God s h a l l

be

worshipped i n

s p i r i t

a nd i n

t r u t h ,

under

your

obedience a nd

protection,

S i r e , and

the

protection

of the persons established

by

God

under

y ou r M aj es ty for the government of t h i s realm. For i f

there be

any that s t i l l think that

the doctrines

which

we

profess

turn

men

away

from

the subjection

which

they

owe

t o t h e i r kings

and

superiors, we have, S i r e ,

where

with t o answer

them

with a good conscience.

It i s true that we teach that our f i r s t and principal

obedience

i s

d ue

t o

our

God,

who

i s the

King

of kings

and

Lord

of l o r d s .

But i f

our writings do not

s u f f i c e

t o clear

us from such

a

crime

l a i d t o our charge [as disloyalty

t o

our sovereign], we s h a l l bring up , S i r e , the

ex am p le o f "

very

many

lordships

and

p r i n c i p a l i t i e s ,

a nd

even

king

doms, which have been

reformed

according

t o

t h i s same

doctrine. These

w i l l s u f f i c e

us

a s good a nd s u f f i c i e n t

testimony for our

a c q u i t t a l . In

s h o r t , we take our stand

respecting t h i s matter

on what Saint

Paul says i n the

thirteenth

chapter

of

Romans,

where, speaking of tem

poral gov ern ment , he expressly enjoins

that every

soul be

subject

unto the hig her p owers . ' Nay,' Saint

John

Chrysostom

says

on

t h i s

passage:

' even

were

you

an



1 5 6 i ] Colloquy of Poissy

183

apostle

or an evangelist,

for

that such subjection

does

not

derogate

from

the

service

of

God.'

But

i f

i t

has

happened, or i f

i t should

hereafter happen,

that

some,

covering themselves with the mantle of ou r

doctrine,

should

be found guilty of rebellion against the l e a s t of

your

o f f i c e r s , S i r e ,

we

protest

before God a nd

your

Ma

j e s t y ,

that

they are not of u s , a nd

that

they could not

have more b i t t e r enemies than

we

a r e , according as our

poor

condition permits.

"

In

f i n e ,

S i r e ,

the

desire we

have

t o

a d v an c e

the

glory

of our God, the obedience and very humble service d ue

t o

your

Majesty, our affection for our native land a nd

specially f o r the Church of God—hese have brought us

t o t h i s place

i n which

we hope

that

our good God

a nd

Father,

continuing

the

course of H is

loving-kindness

a nd

mercies, w i l l confer upon you, S i r e , grace such as that

which He

conferred on the

young King Josiah, two

thousand

two

hundred

and

two

years

ago;

and

that

under your h a p p y government, Madam [Catharine de'

Medici], assisted by you,

Sire [the

King of Navarre],

a nd the other a nd excellent

princes

of the blood a nd

lords of

your

council, the ancient memory s h a l l

be

r e

vived

of

that renowned

Queen Clotilde,

who served of

old as the instrument of our God t o give the knowledge

of Himself t o t h i s realm. S u ch i s our hope. For

t h i s

we are

ready,

S i r e ,

t o

employ

our

own

l i v e s ,

t o

the

end

t h a t , rendering

to you

very humble

service i n

a matter so

holy a nd praiseworthy,

we may behold the true golden

age i n

which

our Lord

and

Saviour

Jesus Christ s h a l l

be

worshipped by a l l with one accord, as t o

Him belong

a l l

honour and glory

for

ever.

Amen.

Here Beza and his

company kneeled

for a

mo

ment.

Theq

rising

he

continued,

at

the

same

time



184

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

*

presenting to

the

king

the Confession

of

Faith

of

the

French

Churches:

" S i r e ,

your

Majesty

w i l l be

pleased t o

give no

thought

t o

our

language, rough

a nd

unpolished a s

i t

i s ,

but rather

t o the affection

that

i s

wholly given

t o you.

And, inas

much as

the

points

of

our doctrine

are contained

c l e a r l y

and more

f u l l y

i n t h i s Confession of Faith which we have

already

presented t o you,

and on whic h the present con

ference

w i l l

t u r n ,

we

very

humbly

beseech

your

Majesty

t o do

us

again t h i s

favour of

receiving

i t

from our

hands,

hoping by

God's

grace t h a t , a f t e r having conferred on i t

i n

a l l

sobriety a nd reverence for H is holy name, we s h a l l

find ourselves i n agreement a s t o

i t .

And i f , on the

contrary, our i n i q u i t i e s prevent such a blessed consum

mation, we doubt not that your

Majesty,

with

your

good

council,

w i l l know

how

t o

provide

for everything,

with

out prejudice

t o

either

of

the

two

p a r t i e s ,

according

t o

God

and t o

reason."

Such was the

f i r s t plea

of the

Reformation

that

reached the ear of a king of France.

I t

was con

fessedly not unworthy of the

orator

from whose

mouth i t c a m e ,

of the rare occasion, of the

subject,

of the

presence

in which i t was delivered.

One

dramatic

inc id ent tha t

interrupted

the

quiet

course of Beza's s p e e ch ha s been purposely omitted,

in order that the reader may

have

before him the

unbroken argument. I must go back to

narrate i t .

The dignified bearing and t he wel l - chos en words

of

Beza,

uttered with

force

and

grace, and

breathing

the

s p i r i t

of profound

conviction,

had commanded

the close and respectful attention of his hearers, even

when

he

uttered

unpalatable

sentiments,

from

the



1 5 6 i ]

Colloquy of Poissy 185

beginning of his discourse until he was well

on

in

the

discussion

of

the nature

of

the s ac ra ments .

I t

was

otherwise

when the Reformer c a me , after a

formal rejection

both of the Roman Catholic

and

of the Lutheran d oc trines , to speak of the relative

places of the body of Jesus Christ and

of

the

conse

crated elements in the

Lord 's S up p er.

At the

words,

" We say that His

body

i s as far removed

from

the

bread

and

wine

as

the

highest

heaven

i s

removed

from

the

earth," a

number

of the

prelates

who

had

long been inwardly chafing with anger and

indigna

tion could

contain

themselves

no longer.

Cardinals,

bishops, doctors of the Sorbonne, began to express

their

dissent in loud

and

violent

tones.

Amid

the

din that instantly arose,

Beza's

voice was

quite

drowned for the time, and the only intelligible words

that

could

be

made

out

were

exclamations

of

He

ha s blasphemed He ha s

blasphemed God

com

ing from

one and

another of the ecclesiastics. The

bystanders looked for nothing else than that they

should accompany

their

cries with

a

symbolic rend

ing of their clothes. Cardinal Tournon, who had

risen to his f e e t , turned

to

the young king, and

prayed

him either to command

Beza to desist

from

speaking, or to suffer him with his brethren, the

Roman

Catholic

prelates,

to

retire from the place.

The queen-mother, however,

thought

that there

had been

quite

enough of t h i s , and commanded

silence.

Cardinal Lorraine,

less ardent or more

politic

than

some of his

colleagues,

joined with her

i n the attempt to

restore order.

Beza, who mean

while

had

stood

unmoved

the

sudden

outbreak

of



1 86 Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

this

unexpected storm, continued his s pee ch and

finished

i t

according

to

his original

design.

At

the c lose of Beza's

address there

was a second

demonstration.

No

sooner had he stopped than

Cardinal

Tournon,

a l l

trembling with wrath,

rose

and,

as primate and presiding officer of the as

sembly of prelates, addressed the king. I t was, he

said, by

his Majesty's

express command

that

the

cardinals

and

bishops,

in order to obey

him, had

consented (not, however, without conscientious

scruples)

to

listen

to

these new evangelists. For

they

foresaw that the

latter might, as they had

done,

utter things

unworthy

of

the ear

of

a

Most

Christian King, things that might well have offended

many p eo p l e

who were

about his

Majesty. The

as

sembly of the

prelates,

suspecting that this might

occur,

had,

continued

the

cardinal,

instructed

him

i n this

case

to

beseech

the

monarch

very humbly

not to

believe or giv e

credit either to the

meaning

or to the

words

uttered by the person

who

had

spoken in

behalf of the adherents of the new

re

ligion, and to beg him to

suspend

the

judgment

he

might

form on the matter until he should

have

heard the remonstrances which the

assembly

in

tended

to make to

him.

By

this

means the prelate

hoped that his Majesty and a l l the honourable com

pany

by

which

the

king

was

supported would

be

able

to learn the difference there exists between

truth and falsehood. He begged that a day might

be assigned the prelates for this purpose, and he

added that, but

for

the respect

they

entertained

for

his

Majesty,

they

would

have

arisen

on

hearing

the



' s 6 i ] Colloquy of Poissy 187

blasphemous

and

abominable

words

that

had been

uttered,

and

would

not

have

suffered

the

conference

to proceed. What they had done,

they

had

done

in order to

obey his

Majesty's command;

and they

prayed him very humbly to persevere in the faith

of

his

fathers,

and

invoked

the Virgin

Mary

and

the blessed

saints in

paradise,

both male

and

f emale, that this might be.

The

cardinal

was

about

to

s ay

more, but

Catharine

cut his

s p e e ch

short. She

assured

him

that nothing

had been done in the a f f a i r s a ve by the decision of

the

royal

council

and with

the concurrence

of

the

Parliament of Paris. The end in view, said she,

was

not

to

make

innovations

or

commotions,

but, on

the contrary, to a p p e a s e the troubles proceeding

from the div ersity of religious opinions, and to bring

back

those

that

had

strayed

from

the

right

way.

The truth was to

be

established

by means

of

the

sim p l e

Word of God, which must be the

sole

r u l e .

We are here to hear both sides," said she.

" Re p l y , therefore,

to

the s peech of

Monsieur

de

Beze to which you have

just

listened." Cardinal

Tournon declined to ac cep t the

challenge

on the

ground

that

the s pee ch

had been

a

long

one,

and

could not be

answered

offhand

;

but he

promised

that i f a written copy

were

afforded to the prelates,

they would prep are

a s uita bl e

rejoinder. The point

was conceded,

and herewith the proceedings of the

day came

to

an end.





1 5 6 i ] Further Discussions

189

other

productions, the striking

oratorical

abilities of

the

man

whose

name

i t

instantly

made

famous.

At

the

same

time,

i t s importance as

a n exposition of the

theological views of Beza, and,

we

may a d d , of Cal

vin, s houl d n ot be

overlooked

in a biographical work

like the present. The doctrinal

contrast between

the Reformation and the Roman

Catholic system,

on the

one

hand, and between the position of Beza

and the positions of the

Reformers

of Wittenberg

and

Zurich,

on

the

other,

i s

so

clearly marked

in

this

document, that

the

most

superficial of readers

c a n have l i t t l e difficulty in forming a distinct

con

ception

of the

individuality of

Beza

as

a

theologian.

That his effort had proved a great success cannot

be

denied. Friends and

foes were

agreed on this

point at

l e a s t . Hubert

Languet, the

distinguished

Protestant

negotiator,

who chanced to be in Paris at

the time,

expressed

himself scarcely more strongly

respecting the brilliancy of the

oration

than did

Claude

Haton,

the curate of Provins.

But

whereas

the

Protestants

gave i t

their

unq ua l if ied a p p r ov a l ,

the Roman Catholics condemned with great bitter

ness

those

uttera nc es res p ec ting the sacraments

which had raised the p a s s ion ate protests of Cardinal

Tournon

and

his associates.

There

i s

no doubt

that

Catharine de' Medici and others

who

s ha red her po

l i t i c

views

regarded

B eza ' s f ra nk

statement

as a need

less

and

offensive expression of

opinion,

and deplored

what they stigmatised as a blunder that came near

wrecking the c onf erenc e. But

whoever will look

with c a l m nes s

at

the

entire situation must come to

a

different

conclusion. Asuppression of the c and id .



190

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

views of the Reformers on so c r i t i c a l a point might

indeed

have

prevented

an

explosion

of priestly

in

dignation

at

this

particular juncture. But

i t could

only have postponed

what

must have come sooner

or

l a t e r .

And

such

d i f f i c u l t i e s

are for the

most part

best

met when met

most

p ro m pt ly. A

onference

broken o f f because of a clear and unmistakable

expression

of opinion on an important theological

subject—ad indeed such a result

ensued

—

ould

have

wrought

far

less

damage

to

the

Protestant

c ause

than

might

have

resulted from

an

insincere

and dishonest

treatment

of a distinctive dogma, or

from

a politic silence, by which the whole

tone

of

the

discussion

would have

been

lowered and the s e l f -

respect

of i t s professors would have been

sacrificed.

Cal vin

saw t h i s ,

and, so

far from

condemning, he

applauded Beza's

boldness i n

unqualified terms.

" Your speech

i s

now before us," he

wrote

t o

Beza

on

receiving the

text

of the oration, " wherein God

wonder

f u l l y directed your mind

a nd

your

tongue. The t e s t i

mony

that

s t i r r e d up the wrath of the holy fathers could

not but be given, unless you ha d consented basely t o

practise evasion and expose

yourself t o t h e i r

derision."

1

Beza

had

nothing

to

retract

and

no

apology

to

make. Hearing, however, that the queen-mother

was, or pretended

to be,

displeased

with what he

had said on the

matter

of the

Lord s

Su p per , he

wrote to her, the next day, to explain both

what

he had said, which, on account

of

the uproar created

by the prelates, she had

possibly

not

heard

dis-

1

L e t t e r

o f

September

2 4 ,

1 5 6 1 .

B o n n e t ,

i v . ,

2 2 9 .



t 5 6 i ] Further

Discussions

1 9 1

tinctly, and the object

for which he

had said i t .

The letter i s a model of manly frankness. Far from

modifying his s p e e ch

in any particular,

he

repeated

for Catharine's benefit the very words that had given

offence. He

declared that what had moved

him

to

use them

was

a desire

to

defend his

co-religionists

from the charge of sacrilegiously making Jesus Christ

to

be absent

from His Holy S u p p e r.

"

But,"

said

h e ,

"

there

i s

a

great

difference

between

making

Him

present insomuch a s that He there truly

gives us H is

body

and blood, and saying that H is

body

a nd blood are united with the bread and wine. I

acknowledged the former, which

i s

also

the chief

thing

;

I denied

the l a t t e r . "

Beza

begged as a favour that he might be permitted

to

set forth his

views more

fully before

her

and

any

other

persons who

might

give him instruction

in case

he was wrong. He closed his letter with pa ssages

from Saint

Augustine and Vigilius,

Bishop

of Trent,

who had

expressed

themselves quite

as

strongly as

he had done respecting the matter in

hand.1

I t i s p e r h a p s

needless

to s a y that no su ch oppor

tunity

as Beza asked for

was

vouchsafed

to him.

The

prelates,

averse

from

the

beginning

to

anything

like free and f a i r discussion

with

the

Protestants,

were s t i l l

more disinclined to

treat

with them since

they had heard the m agnif ic ent exposition of the

Reformed doctrines by one

who

was at the same

time forcible and gentle,

courteous

and self-pos-

1 T he l e t t e r i s g i v e n i n

La

P l a c e , 1 6 8 , 1 6 9 , and i n t h e H i s t . E c c U s . ,

i . ,

5 8 0 - 5 8 4 .



1

92

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

sessed.

But

a promise had been given

that

Beza

should

be answered, and that promise the

Cardinal

of Lorraine undertook to redeem just one week after

Beza had

spoken. The p l ace was the same

;

the as

sembled dignitaries were the same ; the Protestants

were the same

except that

their

numbers

were in

creased

by the arrival of the distinguished

Peter

Martyr. In one respect, however, there was a

notable difference. The cardinal^ instead of s p e a k

ing, like

Beza,

from

behind

a

bar,

was

p r ov i de d wi th

a pulpit from which he might deliver

his

discourse

as one having authority, and thus appear to be either

a learned preacher instructing the ignorant, or a

judge pronouncing the f i n a l sentence of the l a w

upon

offenders.

And how did he

attempt

to answer the f u l l ,

clear,

and candid exposition of the Reformed faith made

by

Beza

?

Chiefly

by

a n

assumption

of

a

lordly

superiority, with a slight admixture of patronising

condescension and unsolicited compassion. He

began by

lauding at great length

both the

temporal

authority of kings and the spiritual authority of

ecclesiastics.

He concluded

with

an

a p p e a l

to

Charles IX. to adhere to the religion of his p r e d e

cessors,

a l l

of

them

loyal

to

the

holy

Catholic

f a i t h ,

from whom he had

inherited

the

distinction

of being

styled not onl y Most

Christian

but First Son

of the Church, and

with

a corresponding a p p e a l to

Catharine de' Medici,

promising for himself and a l l

his associates of the

Gallican

Church

that

they

would not s p are their very life-blood in the main

tenance

of

the true

Catholic doctrine,

nor

f a i l to do



1 5 6 i ] Further Discussions 193

their f u l l duty in the service of the king and the

su p port

of

his

crown.

On

only

two

points

of

the

Reformed

c onf es sion d id the cardinal even pretend

to enter

into

argument. He

maintained that the

Church i s

no

mere aggregation of the

elect,

but in

cludes the tares a long with the wheat.

He

argued

that the

presence of

the Lord in the

Eucharist

i s not

spiritual alone, but

real

and corporeal as well. As

for the

r e s t , he treated the Protestants as wayward

but

misguided

children

for

whom

he

had

no

re

proaches to utter, but only pity ; the more so that

they had

shown some

disposition to receive

instruc

tion

and to return to

a

Church that was ready

to

welcome them so soon as they consented to submit

to her authority. But i f they would not return, and

i f

their ministers would accord i n

doctrine neither

with

the Latin nor with the Greek Church, and in

deed remained at variance

with

their

fellow-

Reform

e r s , the

Lutherans

of Germany, he suggested that

the French Protestants ought to withdraw to some

remote region where they would

cease to disturb

flocks

over which they had

no legitimate

authority,

to a solitude where

at

least they

might

remain

until

their

new-fangled opinions

should grow as ol d and

venerable

as

the c reed

of

the

established

Church.1

When the C a rd ina l of

Lorraine

was through, the

prelates

at once made a dramatic demonstration of

their

approval,

starting

to their

feet in a

body,

and,

with Cardinal Tournon at their head, pressing about

Charles IX. They begged the young prince to re

main

constant to

the teachings

of

the Church, and

1

La

P l a c e ,

1 7 0 - 1 7 7 ;

R i s e

of

t h e

Huguenots,

i . ,

5 2 8 , 5 2 9 .

» 3



i94

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

particularly to require

that Beza and his associates

should

acce pt

and

sign

what

they

had

just

been

taught, before be in g p e r m it te d

to

receive any a d di

tional instruction. The

Genevese Reformer

rose

i n

his turn and claimed the p riv ilege of answering

Cardinal

Lorraine

on the spot—request which, for

reasons

of her own, Catharine

de'

Medici

thought

f i t to deny, promising that he should have an oppor

tunity at a later time.1

With

this

incident

the

Colloquy

of

Poissy

assumed

so

different a

shape

as scarcely

to be

the

s a me. The

clergy

could with difficulty be persuaded to

consent

to

meet

the Protestants a third time, and when they

yielded

to

pressure, the small room of the prioress

was large

enough

to contain

a l l that

presented them

selves

—

dozen bishops and cardinals with a bout

as

many attendant

theologians

bearing

ponderous

tomes, the works of the Church

Fathers

of the f i r s t

f i v e

centuries,

from which Cardinal

Lorraine was to

refute the Reformed

doctrine.

On the other side,

the twelve Protestant ministers

were

again

admitted,

but not the

laymen. Charles

IX. was absent. In

his p l a ce

came Catharine

de'

Medici

and the King

and Queen of Navarre,

with

sundry members

of

the

royal

council.

The conference

was

undignified

and

disorderly.

Its regular course was interrupted by

the intemperate

s peech of

a Dominican f r i a r , Claude

de Sainctes, and

by

the absurd demand sprung

upon

the

French Protestants

by Cardinal Lorraine

that

they should answer categorically the

question,

whether o r . no they would consent to subscribe

to

1

La

P l a c e ,

1 7 7 .



1 5 6 i ] Further Discussions 195

the

Augsburg Confession which

was received by the

Protestants

of

Germany.

Evidently

no

good

could

be

expected

to

come from a conference which

bade

f a i r

to degenerate into an unseemly

wrangle.

Yet, two days l a t e r ,

i n

a meeting at which Beza was

permitted

to reply to the prelate's unreasonable

proposal, the

Reformer maintained

his dignified

composure. He reminded the queen-mother, with

manly

frankness, of the issues dependent upon the

conference.

I t

was

of

supreme

importance

that

this

should be conducted in a f a i r and friendly man

ner. He

retorted with quiet

but

effective irony

to an ill-timed

s p e e ch made

at the

l a s t session

by

a Roman Catholic theologian, Claude d ' E s pen se ,

who

endeavoured

to

show that the Protestant min

i s t e r s were

intruders

who had assumed

their

o f f i c e

without

a

proper

call."

What,

asked

Beza,

i f

a

bishop were to ask a Reformed pastor his

authority

for undertaking to

p r e a c h

and administer the

sacra

ments, and were

to be

met with the counter-ques

tions:- Were you elected to the ep is cop a te by the

elders of your church? Did the

people seek for you?

Were inquiries instituted regarding your conduct,

your l i f e ,

and

your

belief?" o r ,

" Who ordained

you,

and

how much

money did

you

pay

to

be

ordained ? " Many a bishop's cheek would blush

were

he compelled to rep ly

to

such

a n

interrogatory.

Nor was Beza less happy when he

drew

attention to

the circumstance that Cardinal Lorraine, instead of

undertaking to p ro ve

by

the Church Fathers of the

f i r s t centuries the f a l s i t y of the P rotes ta nt position

and thus affording his a nt ag oni st s the ppportunity



i96 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

to

meet

him on the f i e l d

of honest discussion, d e

manded

of

them

that

they

subscribe

to

a n

article

said to be extracted from the Augsburg Confession

and treating of the

doctrine of

the Lord s S u p p e r ,

as the condition of future conference.

Beza

was

ably

reinforced by the Florentine,

Peter

Martyr Vermigli. This famous Italian exile,

now

over sixty

years of

age, respecting

whom

an oppon

ent

(D'Espense)

frankly

admitted

that there was

no

other man

of

his

time

that

had

wr itt en so

amply

and

with so much erudition on the subject of the Lord s

Sup per,1 had come

to France

upon the pressing

inv ita tion of

Catharine

de'

Medici, and provided

with a special safe-conduct from

Charles

IX. He

was a striking personage. Beza,

in

his collection

of

lives of

worthies

and their

portraits, written

long

a f t e r , "

felicitously

styles

him a

p h oenix born

from

the

ashes

of Savonarola. From a monk and

visitor-

general of the Augustinian order, Martyr had be

come a Reformer, and had fled beyond the Alps.

He

was a professor at Strassburg with Bucer. In

King Edward's reign he

laboured

in

England with

zeal and acquired a di stinguished

p l a ce

among those

who strove

to

make the services of the

Established

Church

free

from

the

taint

of

Roman

Catholicism.

He

was appointed

to lecture

on the Scriptures at

Oxford.

After

her accession, Queen

Elizabeth,

a s .

Bishop Jewel t e l l s u s , was altogether d es irous tha t

he should be invited back to England, that, as he

had formerly t i l l e d , as i t were, the University by his

1 La P l a c e , 1 9 7 .

8

B e z a ,

/ c o n e s ,

s ,

v .



PETER MARTYR V E R M I Q L I .







198 Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

King

of

Navarre, and

deliberated upon some of the

points

at

issue.

Beza

was

one

of

the

company.

His colleagues

were

Peter Martyr Vermigli, Augus-

tin Marlorat, Jean de l'Espine, and Nicholas des

Gallars. The party was compelled by the demand

of the bishops

at

Poissy

to

take up

f i r s t

the question

of the presence of Christ in the

Lord s S u p p e r. Al

though this was the very point of difficulty between

Reformed and

Roman Catholics,

less trouble was

found

in

coming

to

an agreement than anyone not

familiar with the

constitution

of the joint commis

sion on the

Roman

Catholic side would have a p p r e

hended.

Peter Martyr,

loyal successor

of

Zwingli

and

Zwingli's views, p ut the

matter

plainly

from

the

Protestant position when he told his associates that,

for his

part, he

believed

that the

body

of

Christ

i s

truly

and

as

to

i t s

substance

nowhere

else

than

i n

heaven

; while he did not

deny

that the

true

body

and true blood of

Christ, given

on the cross for the

salvation

of

men,

are, by faith and spiritually, re

ceived

by

believers in the Holy S u p p e r.

Twice

did

the conferees

laboriously

draw up an article which

should express the thought of Martyr, yet

i n

such

language as

to satisfy both

parties.

The f i r s t

result

of

their

efforts

was

instantly

rejected

by

the

bishops.

When the supposed objection had been obviated

by important changes of phraseology and

a second

article

had

been

prepared,

which the Roman Catho

l i c members f e l t confident would p ro ve fully

a c cept

able, their

work was

scornfully repudiated

and the

bearers were dismissed

with

the a c c us a tion of having

betrayed

their

cause

to

the

Protestants.

The Pro-



L O U I S

OF BOURBON, P R I N C E OF

C O N D E \



UNiVE



1 5 6 t ] Further Discussions 199

testants were

no

better pleased

with

the article

than

were

the

Roman

Catholics,

and

by

mutual

consent

a l l further attempts were abandoned to reconcile

what was really irreconcilable;

o r ,

rather, to gloss

over substantial disagreement by means of terms

that

could be, and would be, interprete d diversely

by different

persons. All

that

could be

said

to the

credit

of the recent

effort

was

that

i t

had

been

honestly made with the earnest purpose to postpone,

o r , i f possible, avert altogether,

the

outbreak of c i v i l

war which

a l l

intelligent men saw to be imminent.

With the

discharge

of Beza's

commission to

p l e a d

the Protestant c ause in the Colloquy of Poissy, the

object

of his coming

to

France was

f u l f i l l e d . He

was anxious to resume

his

duties at

Geneva.

When,

however, he a p p lied for leave to start on his home

ward

way,

he

was

so

far

from

obtaining

i t

that

Catharine

de' Medici

sent

for

him

and

strongly

urged that he should

remain

at least for a time.

Her request

might have been

disregarded, high

as

was

the advantageous estimate of

his character and

services which i t implied. I t was otherwise when

Prince Conde,

Gaspard de Coligny,

and the

most

prominent members of the Huguenot party added

their

vehement

solicitations,

begging

that

he

should

not desert them at a

time

when

i t

was giv en out

that

the s ettl em ent of the religious

status

of the

adherents

of the

Reformed

faith was about to be

settled by

an Assembly

of

Notables.

In

the

c i r

cumstances,

Beza had

no

choice

but to subordinate

his personal

preferences

to the general good of the

cause.

He

was

the

l e s s

anxious

to

be

at

home,



2oo

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

perhaps,

that he heard from Geneva that the

theo

logical

school

was

suffering

no

detriment

by

reason

of

the

absence

of one

of

i t s two theological

professors,

since his

colleague was

teaching

immense

numbers

of

students. Just

at this

moment

an enthusias

t i c

correspondent of Farel wrote: It i s a marvel

to see the

number

of persons that listen to

Monsieur

Calvin's lectures.

I

estimate them at

more than

a

thousand daily." 1 Meanwhile,

s t i l l

more phe

nomenal was

the

continual

increase

of

avowed

Protestants

in almost a l l

quarters of France.

Everybody heard of the

unprecedented

gatherings

of

worshippers

that took

p l a ce

in certain c i t i e s and

towns; but

everybody

did not know,

as Catharine

de' Medici learned by instituting a special inquiry,

that the

Huguenots

had over

two thousand

churches

in

France

—

ore precisely,

two

thousand

one

hun

dred and f i f t y and over, varying in size from a single

church comprising

almost

a l l the inhabitants of some

considerable

town

and ministered to by two or more

pastors, down

to

a

church of

a

few

members

in

the

mi d st

of a n overwhelmingly superior Roman Catho

l i c population.2 As for Beza, his

most

pressing

desire

for the moment was that the Protestants,

conscious

of

growing

numbers,

might

restrain their

natural impetuosity for

at

least

two months; so

sanguine

were his hopes that the coming

Assembly

of

Notables

would materially better

their

condition.'

1 D e B e a u l i e u t o

F a r e l , G e n e v a ,

October

3 ,

1 5 6 1 .

Baum,

i i .

( d o c ) ,

9 2 .

1 H i s t . E c c U s . , i . , 7 4 3 - 7 4 5 .

3 Be?a

t Q

C a j v i n ,

November

4 ,

1 5 6 1 .

Baum,

i .

( d o c ) ,

1 2 1 , ,



1 5 6 2 ]

201

dict of January

The queen-mother was ev id entl y g la d

to

give audi

ence

to

the

Genevese Reformer

in

France,

and

reck

oned

upon

his cooperation in the maintenance of

peace. Nor

were

his services unimportant.

On January 1 7 , 1562, the

results

of the delibera

tions

of the

Assembly of

Notables were

published

i n

the form of a royal edict

—

known in history

as the E d i ct of January. For the f i r s t time

i n

French history the Protestants

were

accorded

o f f i c i a l

recognition,

and

gained

a part,

at

l e a s t ,

of their

natural

rights. Not only

were they suffered to re

side in the kingdom,

but they

were permitted to

worship God in

gatherings of unarmed men and

women, anywhere outside of the walls of the c i t i e s .

I f

they

were

commanded to

surrender a l l the edifices

of which

they

had taken

possession situated within

the

city

walls,

the

loss

was

of

small

consequence

in

view of the

importance of

the cardinal

concession,

esp ec ial ly as

the l a w

guaranteed

them

safety and

protection on the way to and from their places of

worship.1

After

the

enactment of

the E d i ct

of

January,

there

remained much to occupy

Beza's

attention.

First of a l l , there was the task of allaying the dis

satisfaction

of

his

fellow-believers,

who

had

not

unreasonably hoped for a l a w that should accord

complete religious equality both of worship and of

profession, and who were impatient that their antici

pations remained unfulfilled. Here Beza's ability

1 S e e t h e t e x t

o f

t h e E d i c t

o f

January i n t h e

o r i g i n a l French i n

many w o r k s ,

e .

g . , Du Mont, C o r p s D i p l o m a t i q u e , v . , 8 9 - 9 1 ; Mi-

m o i r e s

d e

Qm<Uy

i i i . ,

8 - 1 5

;

H i s t ,

E c c U s , ,

i . ,

7 5 2 - 7 5 8 ,



202

Theodore Beza

[isl

and wide influence

were

of great

service to

the

queen,

who,

there

c a n

be

no

doubt,

was

sincerely

desirous of

ending

the p res ent state of uncertainty

and

consequent danger, by the

cordial a c c e p t a n ce

of the edict by both religious parties. I may in

stance, in

particular, a

letter

which

he

drew up

in

the name of

the

ministers and deputies

of

the

Churches while these

s t i l l

remained at Saint Ger

main,

and

which

was

sent to

a l l the Protestant

con

gregations

throughout

France,

counselling

them

to

a c ce pt loyally the king's edict, and

encouraging

them to hope that the new l a w would

prove only

the

harbinger

of better things to

come.

The letter

was

accompanied by a paper taking

up a l l

the fourteen

articles of the new law, examining each in

turn,

and

explaining how

i t should

be

observed.1

I

cannot

s p e a k

further

of

these

able

documents,

the

circula

tion of which had the desired effect of securing the

submission of

the Huguenots.

Nor shall

I detain

the

reader long

with a fresh conference between

Protestant and Roman Catholic theologians, in

which Beza p l aye d a conspicuous

part, and as a

consequence of which he

attained

yet

greater

p ro

minence. Catharine de' Medici s t i l l c lun g to the

hope

that

by

discussion

a

common

ground

might

be reached.

Under her

auspices

a larger company

than the l a s t convened i n the grand council

hall

of

the

castle

of Saint

Germain. Iconoclasm

had be

come

a common feature of the

reformatory

move

ment of l a t e , much against the will of the leading

Reformers, despite, indeed, their vehement protests;

1

I r i

Mtmoirts

d e

Qond^

i i i . ,

9 3 - 9 8 .

H i s t ,

E c c U s . x

i . ,

7 6 0 - 7 6 6 ,



\ 5 6 2 ]

Edict of

January

203

but i t was d i f f i c u l t to restrain the

people,

and the

statues

and

paintings

of

s a i n t s ' ,

whether

adorning

the interior

or

the exterior of churches,

fared

i l l

at

the hands of mobs intent on the forcible

removal

of the insignia

of

popery. I t may

have been

this

circumstance that led

Catharine

to

propose

Images

and Image

Worship

as the

special

topic for the con

sideration

of

the learned

men

she brought together.

But nothing came

of their

debates,

unless i t be

that

they

showed not only that the views of the Roman

Catholics and of the

Protestants

were irreconcilable,

but

that

the

former

were not

agreed

among them

selves. I t was the Roman Catholic Bishop of Va

lence, Montluc, that

brought out the startling

fact

that one zealous controversialist, Artus

Desire,

had

had the

effrontery to compose

a metric al substitute

for

the

second

Commandment,

as

versified

by

the

Protestants,

wherein

the

Almighty

was made t o

order,

instead

of t o forbid, the making of graven

images

of

anything in heaven,

on

the

earth,

or under

the earth, and to be

greatly

pleased

with,

instead of

condemning,

whatever

honour

or

worship was p a id

to

i t . 1 Beza's long

s pee ch

was

a masterly

discussion

of the entire theme, and received the s trong com

mendation

of

his

brethren,

however

l i t t l e

i t

may

have convinced his opponents.2 The profitless

con-

1 T he s t u p i d parody

r a n

:

" T a i l l e r t u t e f e r a image

D e q u e l q u e

c h o s e

que

s e

s o i t .

S i

honneur l u i

f a i s

e t hommage,

T on Dieu grand

p l a i s i r e n

r e e o i t . "

1

H i s t ,

E c c l t e . ,

i . ,

7 8 1 - 7 9 8 .



204

Theodore Beza [în

ference

lasted about a fortnight, from the 28th

of

January

to

the

nth

of

February,

1562.

Twenty days later

came

the Massacre

of

Vassy,

the s p a rk

which kindled

a c onf la gra tion tha t was to

rage in France for most of the rest of the century.

The E d i c t of January, with

i t s equitable,

but

limited,

concessions to the

Protestants,

was su

premely distasteful to the Roman

Catholic

Church

and to the bigoted adherents of that Church who

would

have

toleration

for none

but

themselves.

I t

was,

consequently, an object of special

abhorrence

to the f amily of Guise, a family which aspired to

represent the most

extreme tendencies in

Church

and State and thereby

to

strengthen i t s

already

ex

orbitant influence. The enactment of the E d i ct of

January

was a virtual repeal of the intolerant

E d i ct

of

July

of

the

previous

summer,

respecting

which

Duke

Francis of Guise, more blunt of speech and

l e s s politic than his

brother,

Cardinal

Lorraine,

had

openly

boasted

that

his

sword would never rest

in

i t s

scabbard when the execution of the ordinance

was in question.

He

was in a state of irritation

which

any fortuitous incident

might easily

convert

into insane fury. On Sunday morning, March 1 ,

1562,

while

on

his

return

from

a

conference

at

S a-

verne,

near

the banks

of

the Rhine,

with Duke

Christopher

of Wurtemberg, he chanced to enter a

small town of Champagne named Vassy, at this

time a f i e f

whose

revenues

were enjoyed by

his

kins

woman Mary, Queen of Scots. Acongregation of

Huguenots were worshipping in a rud e ba rn which

they had transformed

into

a sanctuary. Their serv-







1 5 6 2 ]

Massacre of

Vassy 205

ices

were interrupted by the duke's followers. I t

i s

needless

here

to

decide

precisely

how

the

assault

was brought on, whether by the nobleman's express

orders, or by the forward zeal of his

attendants

and

without his previous

participation. The

main facts

are indisputable. Aband of peaceable Protestants

were

broken in upon, in

the mi d st

of their prayers

and

hymns,

under the eyes of one of the f i r s t noble

men of the kingdom, and men, women, and children,

who

had come

to

worship the Prince of Peace, were

slaughtered like sheep, and without distinction of

a ge or

sex. Many f e l l

within the rud e but sacred

enclosure, fugitives were picked o f f

by

the arque-

busiers

and slain before they could reach a p l a ce of

safety. Fif ty or sixty

persons dead

and about twice

that

number of

bad ly

wounded were the fruits

of

that

Sunday

morning's

work.

Say what they would, the friends of Guise could

never

p ro ve that the

m a s s a cre

was not i n glaring

violation of the edict

signed

only six weeks p re

viously,

forbidding judges, magistrates, and

a l l

other

persons, of

whatever station, quality, or c ond ition

they might be, from hindering, disquieting,

molest

ing,

or

i n any wise attacking those of the new re

ligion

"

in

or when

going

to

or

from

their

places

of

assembly outside of the walls of the c i t i e s .

When the news reached the French court and the

capital, the

Protestants

loudly

protested against

the d ar in g inf rin gement of the law, and demanded

the punishment of the law-breaker, whom they de

nounced

as

a murderer.

Beza was

s t i l l

in France.

The

Churches

begged

him

to

represent

them

and

to



2o6

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

use his recently

acquired

influence in securing from

the

queen-mother and

her

advisers

a

prompt

con

demnation of

this f i r s t blow struck

at

the E d i ct of

January. Francour accompanied him as a rep re

sentative

of

the Protestant nobles.

The two

envoys

found Charles IX. and Catharine de' Medici at

Monceaux. In a n audience at which were present

Antoine of Bourbon,

King of

Na v arre, the

recently

arrived

p a p a l

legate,

Cardinal Ferrara, and others,

Beza

clearly

and

forcibly

set

forth

the attack

that

iTad been made

upon

the

solemn

decree of the

king

by

one

of his

subjects,

on his own personal respons

i b i l i t y , and the evident plots

laid to ruin

the

Huguenots

of

France.

He frankly and

temperately

laid before

his

Majesty the

disasters

that must cer

tainly flow from such flagrant acts of injustice i f

permitted

to

p a s s

unpunished.

Catharine

returned

a gracious reply, promising that the matter should

be

thoroughly investigated, and that, i f the

Protest

ants

exercised

self-restraint, ample provision

should

be made to satisfy them. The

Duke

of Guise would

not, she hoped, pursue his

journey to Paris.

She

had

written

to him and requested him not to

do s o .

There was one

person who

had l is tened to Beza's

remarks

and

to

the

queen's

conciliatory

response

with ill-concealed anger, and who c oul d c onta in

himself no longer. This was Antoine of

Bourbon,

formerly, as we have seen, and so long as

i t

served

his purpose,

an

ardent

friend

of the Reformation,

but of

late

a pronounced

ally

of the Guises, since

the

promise

of the

restoration

of

his

ol d kingdom

had

been

held forth to allure him. He now broke



1 5 6 2 ] Massacre of Vassy 207

out with reproaches

against

the Protestants for

going,

as

he

said,

armed

to

their

preaching

services.

" Arms i n the hands of the wise," replied Beza, " are

bearers of

peace. The occurrence a t Vassy

shows

how

necessary they are

t o

the Church, unless safety be

other

wise provided,

a nd

t h i s

provision, S i r e , I most humbly

beg you, i n the name of the

Church

which u n t i l now has

cherished such hope i n you,

t o

make.

The legate, a troublesome priest, whose sole mis

sion

to

France was in the interest

of

the mainten

a n ce

of proscription laws against the Huguenots,

here attempted

to

su p port

Navarre's

allegations by

descanting upon

the

misdeeds of

the P rotes ta nts

which recently had caused

riot and

bloodshed at

their

p l ace of assembly near the church of Saint M6-

dard.

Beza,

having been

present

on

the

occasion

referred

t o , was able to refute the prelate's calumny

on the spot, after which he repeated the demand for

the punishment

of

the

Duke of Guise, who was

known to

be

coming armed as in a time of war

—

procedure from

which nothing

but mischief

could

ensue.

Hereupon

Antoine of

Bourbon

threw

o f f a l l

disguise, and avowed himself the duke's

friend

and

partisan.

"

Whoever, said

he,

"

shall

touch

my

brother the Duke of

Guise

with the tip of his finger,

will

touch my

whole

body.

I t

was

a c r i t i c a l

juncture in

the

history of

French

Protestantism, and the champion of French Pro

testantism

realised the f u l l

responsibility

that de

volved upon

him. First he begged Antoine to hear

him

patiently

as

one

whom

he

had

long

known

and



208 Theodore Beza t 1 5 i 9 -

whom

he had, not many months

ago, requested

to

come to

France

to

help

in

giving

p e a ce

to

the

realm.

Next

he reminded

him that the way of justice

i s

God's

way, and

that

justice i s a debt

which kings

owe to their poor subjects. To a sk for justice i s to

wrong nobody.

Antoine

had attempted

to

excuse

the

massacre

at

Vassy

by alleging

that

the

Protest

ant worshippers had thrown stones at Guise and his

followers, and that thereupon the former had been

unable

to

restrain

the

fury

of his

men, and

blood

shed followed.

Princes,

said he, are not to be ex

pe cted to submit to being stoned.

If

that

be

so,"

the Reformer

quietly responded, the

Duke

of Guise

will be

excul pated

on producing the

persons

who

committed the fault." And then i t was that, rising

to the height of that

commanding

eloquence

which

few of his contemporaries knew so

well how

to

attain, he

closed

his address

to

the insincere King

of Navarre with

words

which the Churches of France

never forgot, but which,

through

the ages of perse

cution that were

to

follow, they cherished as a

motto

to sustain their

courage.

Sire," he

gravely

said, i t belongs in truth to the Church of God, in

whose name

I

speak, to endure blows and not to

i n f l i c t

them.

But

i t

will

also

please

your

Majesty

to remember that s he i s an anvil that ha s worn out

many hammers.

Thus the

incident

closed,

and Beza took his l ea ve.

I t was God's will," says the author of the history

of

the

origins of

the

Protestant Churches,

"

that

these words should

be

spoken

to the King

of

Navarre,

and that, notwithstanding, Beza should return safe



1 5 6 2 ] Massacre of

Vassy

209

and

sound, having discharged a sufficiently

hazard

ous

commission.

1

Within a few weeks there broke out the f i r s t of

those unfortunate c i v i l wars in which the

Huguenots

became involved. Conde took

the f i e l d

at their

head. Catharine de' Medici, who had

implored

his

assistance i n letters s t i l l extant, the authenticity

of

which

cannot rationally

be

doubted,2

ended a

period

of

vacillation,

and not so much consented, as was

forced,

to

p ut

herself

into

the

power

of

his oppon

ents. Beza could

not

in

conscience desert the

Huguenots

at

a moment when his services

were im

peratively needed.

His

return to his pulpit and to

his lecture-room at

Geneva

was of necessity long

deferred.

1 H i s t . E c c l e s . , i i . , 3 - 6 .

2

S e e

t h e

t e x t

o f

l e t t e r s

i n

M e " m o i r e s

d e

C o n d e " ,

i i i . ,

2 1 3 .

R i s e

of

t h e Huguenots,

i i . ,

3 2 .





1 5 6 2 ] Counsellor

of Conde

211

among Protestants for eloquence. Claude Haton,

the

prejudiced

but

d is crim ina ting c ura te

whose

memoirs are

among

the most

readable

p a p e rs of the

century and wejl

reflect public

sentiment on

nearly

every point, proclaimed him the most

highly

es

teemed of

a l l

the p rea chers of

France

for his f a i r

words, more than for his

learning.1 To have c on

ceded

the

superiority in

learning also, would have

seemed to the ecclesiastic a species

of

endorsement

of

Beza's

success

at

Poissy.

The people, making no su ch distinction,

flocked

to the

Huguenot

services to hear him. On the very

day and at almost the precise hour that the Duke of

Guise

entered

Paris, despite the queen-mother's

prohibition,

Prince

Conde

was accompanying

the

Huguenot

minister,

with a body-guard of f our or five

hundred horsemen

(others

said

more),

to

a

preaching

p l ace

beyond

the

Porte Saint

Jacques, where

he

discoursed to a crowded gathering. The p a p a l

nuncio, Cardinal Santa

Croce,

writing to the Po pe ' s

minister, Cardinal

Borromeo,

the next" day, found

i n this and

similar occurrences

presages of evil to

come.2 For,

as the nuncio never tired of reiterating

at the French court,

unless

the

preachers were

driven

from

the

kingdom,

a l l

other

precautions

would

be

of

l i t t l e avail for the

rescue

of the

Roman

Catholic

cause.3

The duties now devolving

upon

Beza were of the

most

varied

and complex character, and the literary

M e " m ,

d c

C l a u d e

H a t o n , i . ,

2 5 3 .

2 S a n t a Croce t o Borromeo, March 1 9 , 1 5 6 2 . Aymon, i . , 9 9 .

'The same t o t h e s a m e , March 2 2 , 1 5 6 2 , I b i d . , i . , 1 0 5 .





1 5 6 2 ]

• Counsellor of Conde

213

thing about t h i s overthrowing

of

images, except what I

have

always

f e l t

a nd

preached:

that

i s

t o

s a y ,

that

t h i s

mode of

action does not please me a t

a l l ,

inasmuch

a s

i t seems t o me to have no foundation i n the Word of

God,

and as i t i s t o be feared that i t

proceeds

rather

from impetuosity than from

z e a l .

Nevertheless, be

cause the

deed i t s e l f

i s

i n

accordance

with

the w i l l of

God,

who

condemns idols

and

i d o l a t r y ,

and

because

i t

seems as i f , i n so widespread a movement, there were

some

secret

counsel

of

God,

who,

i t

may

b e ,

intends

by

t h i s

means

t o

p ut t o

shame the

greatest by means of

the

smallest, I content myself with reprehending i n general

what

i s

deserving of

reprehension,

and with moderating

such impetuous procedures

as

much

as i t

l i e s i n my

power. But that destruction of the

monuments

of the

dead i s

entirely

inexcusable, and I c an assure

you,

Madam,

that

the prince i s f u l l y

resolved

not

only

t o

make

the

most

thorough

investigation,

but

also

to

i n f l i c t

such punishment a s

may

serve a s an exa m p l e t o others.

"

As

t o the l a s t point i n

your l e t t e r ,

I

s h a l l

t e l l you frankly what I think and

what

attitude a l l

the

Churches of

these

regions take. S o long a s the

king

your

husband gave evidence of the fear of God, he wa s named

with

you i n

the

public prayers,

because

of

the hope

that

was

entertained

that

he

would improve l i t t l e by

l i t t l e ,

as

s o

often

he

professed

h i s

purpose

t o

do.

Subsequently,

when

i t was seen that he wa s ba nd in g together with the

enemies

of

God,

s t i l l

we

did not cease

t o make

supplica

tions

for

him

by

name i n the prayers

of

the Church; and

t h i s with so much the more ardour

as

we

foresaw

the d a n

ger of ruin to

be

greater and more evident.

This

lasted

u n t i l ,

t o our great

r e g r e t , he

so burst a l l bounds as not

only t o scandalise

the Church,

but,

what i s worse, t o

proclaim

himself

head

and

p rotec tor of

those

whose



2i4 Theodore Beza . [ 1 5 i o -

hands

are reeking with the blood

of

the children of

God,

of

those

who

have

always

professed

themselves

the

p er

secutors

and

desperate

enemies of the

l a t t e r .

You may

b e l i e v e ,

Madam,

that i t wa s

not

without

deep

anguish that

we heard

and

witnessed t h i s piteous

change, and that

we

were brought to t h i s point. For how could we pray

against the enemies of God a nd H is C hurc h, and, a t the

s a m e

time,

name

one

of the chief enemies among

those

persons

whom we hold

i n highest esteem ? Yet

would

I

np t

come

t o

the

point

of

pronouncing

a

f i n a l

sentence

of

r e j e c t i o n ,

for there are

those who have

drawn

very

near

t o

that point who

yet have

received grace a nd mercy.

As f o r myself, although

I

see i n

him

a t

present

more

evidence of rejection than of salvation, yet am I

unwilling

t o determine

what

God has counselled f o r the f u t u r e ,

according to

the

riches

of

H is

great

mercies, a nd I

am

content t o be ignorant of

what

God has

concealed,

rather

than

too

rashly

condemn

the sinner

with

h i s

s i n .

I

have

not

therefore

removed him from

the

prayers, as

though cutting

him

o f f for ever

from

the Church,

but

h i s

name has merely been

omitted

from the

place where

he

wa s m en tion ed for the aforegoing reasons. Yet nothing

prevents

h i s

being

comprehended

under the general

designation

of ' the princes of the blood,' whom

we

con

join

with

the king i n special respect.

Otherwise

you

would

have

f a r

greater

occasion

t o

complain

than

he;

for i t has seemed indecorous t o name you without him,

and I

see

that

the greater

number

[of

worshippers], i n

order t o

cover

the

matter i n

some

fashion,

omit

mention

of you a l s o . And yet

I

am as certain as

that I s h a l l

d i e ,

that

your

memory, Madam,

i s

as precious and dear

t o

a l l

the

Churches

of

God as that

of

any person i n t h i s world.

'

'

These

words

would

seem

to

have

been

penned




of

Conde 215

shortly

after

a narrow es c a p e of Beza from falling

into

the

hands

of

his

enemies,

to

which

he

alludes

near the c lose of his l e t t e r .

"

I came

near

being

surprised on my

return

from

Angers,"

he w r i t e s , " and,

from

what

I

l e a r n , the king

your

husband, Madam, must have

written expressly on

the subject with

threats

l i t t l e

b e f i t t i n g

the service which

a l l my l i f e long I have desired to render him. Praised

be

God,

who

delivered

me

from

t h i s

danger,

showing

me

i n

very deed that

i t i s

better to

serve

Him

than t o

serve men.

But

I

protest

before

my God,

that

t h i s has

not changed my a f f e c t i o n , and that I would not bemoan

my

death

to-day, were i t t o conduce t o h i s salvation." 1

Very different

in

style

was

the document

which

Beza was perhaps at this very moment prep aring for

publication in the

name

of the P rinc e of Conde, and

which was given to the world a week l a t e r .

The three leading Roman Catholic noblemen,

having fully

determined

to

precipitate a c i v i l

war,

ostensibly

for the purpose of hindering the further

progress of Protestantism, but in reality so as to

secure for themselves the undisputed

mastery,

had

just presented to the crown

their

exorbitant demands

in

the

form

of

two

petitions,

of

one

and

the

same

date,

and

constituting in effect a single

document.

The contents were sufficiently radical to satisfy the

most

bigoted

f riend of

the

ol d order of thing s. Ig

noring altogether the recent tolerant edic t of the king,

the s ubs cribers s tip ul ated tha t the

exercise

of any

1 Beza

t o t h e

Queen o f N a v a r r e , Ma y

1 3 ,

1 5 6 2 . Mtfm,

d «

Qond^

i i . ,

3 5 9 - 3 6 3 .



2i6 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

other

religion than the

Roman

Catholic and

Apos

tolic

religion

be

interdicted

in

France

by

a

perpetual

and irrevocable law, and that a l l royal o f f i c e r s ,

of

whatever kind,

be compelled to conform

to that re

ligion or else leave the realm. Churches

that

had

been seized

and damaged must

be

restored and

re

paired,

the

sacrilegious must

be punished,

a l l

that

had taken up arms without authority from the King

of Navarre

must lay

them down

or

be pronounced

rebels.

I f

a l l

this

were

done,

they

professed

them

selves ready to retire from the kingdom, in f a c t , to

go to the ends of the earth. They would not even

require as

a

condition that

Conde

should participate

in

their exile,

nay, they

would

prefer

to have him

return to the royal court, where, doubtless, he would

deport

himself in

a manner worthy

of

a

prince

of the

blood

royal.1

In

other words,

should

the

prince

dis

miss

a l l

the Protestant troops that were f l ocking to

his standard, he was welcome

to

make a fresh t r i a l

of the perils

that

a wa it the credulous man who risks

his neck upon the good faith and promises of

invet

erate enemies,

Only

the opportune decease of

Francis I I . had s a ve d Conde's l i f e at Orl ea ns , a l i t t l e

over two years since;

he was

now

invited

to

find

out

by

a

new

experience

whether

Heaven

would

a

second

time

interfere as

signally

in his behalf.

We

c a n scarcely

suspect

the Duke

of

Guise, Con

stable Montmorency, and Marshal Saint

Andre of

su ch simplicity as to imagine that they

could

impose

upon the Prince

of

Conde; but

they

had

hopes of

imposing upon the

people by

their cheap display of

1

M^mK

d (

Q o n d i t i

i i i . ,

3 9 2 ,



i 5 6 2 ]

Counsellor

of

Conde 217

magnanimity. It

required a skilful hand to defeat

their

purpose,

and

certain

i t

i s

that

Conde

had

at

his command no more skilful hand than that of

Theodore

Beza. The

reply which

went out

to

the

world in the name of Louis de Bourbon was so keen

that

ordinarily well-informed contemporaries such

as the historian De

Thou,

at a loss to ascertain who

could have composed i t , were driven to the absurd

ity of conjecturing that i t might have emanated

from

the

pen

of

the

shrewd

and

versatile

Bishop

Montluc, author of some of the ablest State p a p er s

of the period.

The writer branded the pretended petition or

petitions

of

the

Roman

Catholic leaders as

an arrog

ant

assumption

of

authority that i n no sense

belonged

to them. What they had p ut forth was in point of

fact

not

a

petition

but

a

decree,

made

by

the

duke,

the constable, and the

marshal, with

the cooperation

of the legate, the nuncio, and the Spanish ambassa

dor. The league they had formed was more f u l l of

danger and

more s a ng ui na ry t ha n that

of Sulla, or

that of Caesar, or that of the Triumvirate

of

Rome.

I t s authors had ref us ed to obey the queen's com

mands and retire

to their governments. They

had

come

to

Paris

in

a rm s, c ontra ry

to

her

express

com

mands; and no prayer of

hers or

of

the

young king

could

induce

them to leave the capital. They had

forcibly

brought

Catharine and Charles from Fon-

tainebleau

to Melun, and from Melun to

Paris.

Such was t he r ev er enc e and humility

of

which they

prated;

while

the love they

pretended

to bear

to

their

country did not

prevent

them from

calling

i i ;



218

Theodore

Beza

[ I 5 l g _

foreign arms to p l un der

i t

and,

i f

God did not p re

vent,

to

subdue and

ruin

i t .

And then,"

wrote Beza i n

Conde's name, they

demand a p erp etual edict t o s e t t l e

matters

of

r e l i g i o n

;

a nd

when

we ask for the maintenance of the

edict that

has been made u n t i l the king's majority, they t e l l us that

t h i s i s an uncivil a nd unreasonable demand; that i t i s

the prerogative of the

king,

when

i t seems

good t o

him,

t o

change,

l i m i t ,

amplify,

and

r e s t r i c t

h i s

edicts;

a nd

that when we ask of

him

that what has already been

ordained by

him

and h i s council be kept a nd maintained

during

h i s minority,

we

wish t o keep h i s Majesty i n

prison and c a p t i v i t y . Meanwhile they want the edict

which they

three

have framed t o be perpetual a nd i r

revocable.

I f

the reason alleged

by

them against us

i s

t o be

received, for

that

s a m e

reason we s h a l l conclude

that

they

themselves wish

t o

detain

the

king

a

prisoner

both i n h i s minority a nd i n h i s majority, nay, we are

warranted i n saying that they think that they c an lord i t

ov er not merely

the

person

of the

king, but ov er

the

whole

realm, since

i n a

matter

of

so

great

importance

a nd involving such consequences, they

dare

present an

ordinance authorised by but three persons. What more

did ever Augustus,

Mark

Antony, a nd Lepidus, when by

t h e i r

wicked

a nd

infamous

Triumvirate

they

overturned

the laws a nd the Roman commonwealth ? Had they

been moved by honest

z e a l ,

a s they

a s s e r t ,

by a peaceable

a nd

not a seditious z e a l , by a

zeal

for religion

and

not

f o r

ambition, they

would not have begun by active

measures. They would have come unarmed, they would

have presented themselves with humility and reverence;

they would

have s e t

forth

the

causes that moved them

t o

disapprove

of

the

Edict

of

January;

they

would

very




of

Conde 219

humbly have begged the king and queen t o examine, i n

conjunction with

t h e i r

council,

with

the

advice

of

the

parliaments,

and

the

other

e s t a t e s ,

whether by some

other means a remedy

might

be found

f o r the

troubles,

t o the

preservation

of the honour of God,

and

of the

security a nd greatness of the king a nd kingdom. Had

they thus

spoken, they would have shown that they

were

inspired by

no

other passion than the zeal of their con

sciences. As

i t

i s , their

course

of

action

s u f f i c i e n t l y r e

veals

the

f a c t

that

r e l i g i o n

serves

them

only

as

a

means

t o secure a following a nd t o introduce division among

the king' s subjects. W ith one portion a nd

i n

conjunc

t i o n with foreigners, they

purpose

t o

make themselves

masters a nd lords

of everything.

To them I

am

con

strained t o say that the p rinces of the blood, whose

enemies they have always been and whom they have ever

driven into

the

background, so

f a r

as they were

a b l e , w i l l

not

s u f f e r

foreigners

a nd

persons not

called

t o

the

govern

ment, t o take i t

upon

themselves t o make edicts a nd

ordinances i n

t h i s

kingdom. Yet they

want

a nd

demand

that

the Romish r e l i g i o n , which

they

c a l l

Catholic a nd

Apostolic,

alone be established

a nd

recognised

i n

France,

a nd that preaching a nd the sacraments be forbidden t o

the adherents of the Reformed r e l i g i o n . I t i s a Duke of

Guise, a foreign prince, a Sieur

de Montmorency,

a nd a

Sieur

de

Saint

Andre,

who

enact

an

ordinance

contrary

t o

the Edict of January,

accorded

by the king

and

the

queen

h i s mother, the King of

Navarre,

the princes of

the blood, with the king's council and forty of the

greatest a nd most notable

personages of

a l l

the parlia

ments. I t

i s these three

that

dr aw up a law

against

the

p e t i t i o n

presented by the S t a t e s , that i s to s a y , the

nobles and Third Estate

a t

Orleans and,

l a t e r ,

a t Saint

Germain;

both

of

which

e s t a t e s

petitioned

the

king

t r



22o

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 i ^ -

be

pleased

t o

grant places of worship to the adherents of

the

Reformed

r e l i g i o n .

T he se

three make

an

ordinance

that

cannot be

executed without

a

c i v i l

war,

without

p utting the kingdom i n danger of evident r u i n . This

they themselves see a nd admit. And t h i s i s the way the

kingdom stands indebted t o them,

a nd

t h i s

i s

the f r u i t

born

of

t h e i r

wisdom a nd

good z e a l , o r , t o

speak more

p rop erly, of t h e i r i n t r i g u e s , underhand practices, a nd

ambition t o r u l e . "

With s u ch words " d i d Beza make the Prince of

Conde to

characterise

the new T riumv irs , whil e

defending the c ause

which these

Triumvirs had

con

sp ired to overthrow.

Again,

as in his l etter over

his

own

signature

to

the Queen of Navarre, being

compelled

to touch upon

the

iconoclasm

out

of

which the enemies

of

the

Protestants

made

so

great

an

accusation, he dwelt upon the

efforts

that had

been conscientiously put forth to check and punish

the

practice,

and again he

contrasted

the f a u l t , as

fault i t undeniably

was,

of destroying l i f e l e s s

statues

i n

stone,

with

the

far

more heinous crime of ruth

lessly destroying the persons of

men

and women

made in the likeness

of God.

"

I f

the breaking

of

images merits

punishment,

as I

f u l l y believe i t

does

—

na s mu ch a s the act i s committed

contrary t o the

king's

ordinance,—h at p u ni s hm en t d o

those expect who cloak themselves s o read ily with the

king's name, f o r the murders that have been committed

by

themselves

and,

following

t h e i r examp le

a nd

a t

t h e i r

s o l i c i t a t i o n , a t Vassy, a t Sens, a t Castelnaudary, a nd a t

Angers

—

here

i t

i s

well

known

that

f i v e

hundred

men




of

Conde 2 2 1

a nd

women

have been

s l a i n

for no

other

reason than

t h e i r

r e l i g i o n

?

He

that

dictated

the

'

petition

'

should

have examined his

own conscience a nd

have

recognised

the f a c t

that i t i s

not

found that

the l i f e l e s s image has

ever cried for vengeance; but the blood of ma n , who

i s

the l i v i n g image of God, c r i e s for i t t o Heaven, and c a l l s

i t down, a nd brings i t , even though i t tarry long."

To the

suggestion that

Conde' and

those

who were

in arms

with

him

ought

to

be

declared

rebels,

the

prince was made to

respond that this

was an article

that

c al led f or a

reply

in another way than in writing.

He

hoped, he said, wi thin a

few

days, to go in

search

of

those that made the assertion, and settle by

arms

the question, whether i t belonged to a foreigner

and

two insignificant

persons

su ch as they were, to judge

a p rince of the blood and two thirds of the

noble

men

of

the

kingdom, and pronounce

them

to

be

rebels

and enemies of

the

kingdom.

Finally, in

a

p a s s a g e

of

great

beauty

and

oratori

cal force, the prince was made

by

Beza to

institute

a

startling

contrast between the demand of the new

Triumvirs and that which he himself made :

"

I

ask

f o r

the

maintenance

of

the

Edict

of

January,

and they wish of their own authority

t o

annul and abolish

i t .

They ask for the destruction of an i n f i n i t e number

of houses, a s well of the nobles a s of the common p eo

p l e ; I ask a nd d es ire that a l l the king's subjects, of

whatever

quality they may

be,

s h a l l be upheld,

protected

i n their

e s t a t e s a nd

property,

a nd preserved

from

a l l i n

s u l t a nd violence. They wish t o exterminate a l l the

adherents

of

the

Reformed religion;

a nd

I

d es ire that




we may be

reserved

to the time when the king s h a l l reach

h i s

majority

( a t

which

time

we

w i l l

obey wha t

he

s h a l l

be pleased t o command u s ) , a nd that meanwhile the ad

herents of the Romish Church s h a l l not be disturbed,

molested, or constrained

i n

their

property

or i n the exer

c i s e

of t h e i r

charges.

They

demand

an armed force

t o

execute

what

they have undertaken,

and do

not consider

that they w i l l compel an i n f i n i t e

number

of worthy

people

t o

defend

themselves.

They do

not take into considera

tion

the

scarcity

of

the

means

a t

t h e i r

disposal,

nor

regard

the

troubles

a nd the ruin that c i v i l wa r brings. What i s

worse, they

have engaged i n writing

to

introduce foreign

arms, which means, i n plain t a l k , t o giv e the kingdom t o

be the

prey

of

i t s

enemies.

On

the

contrary, I

do not

ask t o retain my arms, I do not make use of the king's

money,

I

d o

not

c a l l

foreigners

t o

enter the kingdom,

a nd have declined those offered

t o

me.

God i s

my wit

ness

that

I

have

begged

them

not

to

come

a nd

t o

prevent

others from coming, either for or against u s . . . .

They demand that we be declared rebels; they

demand

our

l i v e s ,

our

honour,

and our consciences. We

demand

nothing

whatever of t h e i r l i v e s , their

honour,

t h e i r prop

e r t y , or their consciences, nor

wish

them a ny

other

i l l

save that to which

we

are

willing t o

bind

ourselves—

which i s ,

that they and

we

withdraw

t o our houses, a nd

t h i s

according

to

the

conditions

more

f u l l y

s e t

forth

i n

our Declarations and Protestations heretofore made a nd

sent t o the king

a nd

queen."

Such was

the tenor

and such

were

a

few points

of

the noble document

wherein

the

brilliant Genevese

Reformer supplied the young Prince of Conde with a

defence clear and convincing to

every

dispassionate



1 5 6 2 ]

Counsellor

of

Conde

223

reader,

i f , in those exciting

times,

any dispassionate

readers

were

s t i l l

to

be

found.1

A

recital

of the incidents of this eventful war do

not* belong here. The reader must look elsewhere

for

the massacres

on

the

one side

and the reprisals

on the other, for the wearisome tale of acts of un

necessary

cruelty and brutality, for

the bl und ers

almost surpassing

belief committed

by men who

es

teemed themselves and were regarded

by

others as

wise

and

prudent.

Contrary

to

his

expectations,

Beza was detained

with

the army at Orleans, where

he took

a part in drawing up that remarkable set of

articles regulating

the discipline and

morals

of the

army, which was intended

to

make Huguenot war

fare a model for a l l

future generations,

but which in

reality lasted

barely a

couple of

months. The daily

prayers

and

the

frequent

preaching

in

the

prince's

presence devolved upon him, but was the small

est part

of

his

duties.

I t

was not

forgotten

that

he was

no novice

in

d i p loma c y , and

when Ad

miral Coligny's youngest brother, Andelot, was de

s p a t ch e d to levy troops in Germany as auxiliaries

to

the

depleted

army of

the

prince

at

Orleans, i t

was natural that Beza should be thought of as of a l l

men the

most likely

to

succeed

in

securing

the

favour

of the German princes

with

whom he had

treated when p lea ding the c ause of the

persecuted

Waldensesof Piedmont

and

the victims of calumny

and judicial murder

in Paris.

His

v i s i t to the banks

of the Rhine and

to

Switzerland afforded him an

opportunity

to

go to Geneva and

confer

with Calvin.

1

In

t h e

M e " m .

d e

C o n d i ,

i i i . ,

3 9 5 - 4 1 6 .





1 5 6 2 ] Counsellor of Conde 225

by a refusal t o

l e t

him g o , those who are with so much

valour

and

firmness

defending

the

cause of

the

Gospel,

and

of incurring

notable reproaches

a t their hands.

Finally, we have judged

that

we ought not t o have our

own particular i n t e r e s t so much a t h e a r t , as the

adv ance

ment of

God's kingdom and

glory;

and the

said Beza

has

been permitted t o act a s

he s h a l l

deem

f i t . "

1

After his

return to

France, Beza was present

at

the ba ttl e of Dreux, and

witnessed

the defeat

and

c apture

of

the P rince

of

Conde,

singularly

enough

of fset in the same battle

by

the c ap ture of

Marshal

Montmorency, the commanding general

of

the

Roman Catholics, and the death of Marshal Saint

Andre, a second of

the

so-called

Triumvirs."

That inveterate calumniator, Claude de Sainctes,

who will be

remembered

as

one

of

the disputants at

the Colloquy of

Poissy,

accused the Reformer, some

years l a t e r , of

having

fought in that engagement;

an

assertion which

Beza

denied.

"

I

was certainly present

a t

the b a t t l e ,

both

a t the be

ginning a nd the end (why should I not, having been duly

called there ? ) ,

and, indeed,

whic h you

may

wonder

a t

more,

dressed i n my

cloak

and

not armed,

nor

may

any

one cast

i n

my

teeth

either

the slaying

of anybody or

f l i g h t . "

2

The

f i r s t c i v i l war lasted

two

or

three

months

more. Its conclusion was hastened by a tragic

event.

Duke

Francis of

Guise,

while

inspecting

1 S t a t e Records o f G e n e v a , September 2 1 , 1 5 6 2 , i n Baum, i i . , 6 9 9 .

s " Ad F . C l a u d i i d e X a i n t e s Responsionem A l t e r a Th. B e z a e

Apologia"

( r e p r i n t e d i n

T r a c t .

T h e o l . ,

i i . ,

3 6 2 ) ,

a

pamphlet f i r s t

p u b l i s h e d i n G e n e v a , i n 1 5 6 7 .

1 s



226 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

the

works

by

means of

which he seemed about

to

c ap ture the

city of

Orleans, then held by the

Huguenots, was

trea cherously shot

by a miscreant

named Poltrot, and d ie d wi th in six days. By

whom

the assassin

had

been

instigated

to the deed i s even

now uncertain. After at f i r s t glorying in his act, he

broke down through fear of death and accused

Admiral Coligny,

Beza,

M. de

Soubise, and

others.

Subsequently he retracted his statements and de

clared them

to

be false

;

but

while

suffering

his

hor

rible

sentence

and being torn asunder

by

four

horses, he again returned to his improbable story.

Admiral Coligny and a l l those whom he had accused

denied with

the greatest

solemnity that

they

had

prompted

the

assassin to commit his dastardly

action. With

others we have

nothing

to

do.

Theodore Beza said that, so far from having coun

selled

the

man,

he

had

never, to

the

best

of

his

knowledge, laid eyes

upon

him.1 Al l f air- mind ed

men

cleared

him,

and most men held the crack-

brained

assailant

of Guise to

be a

wild

enthusiast

whom fancied

personal

wrongs or the wrongs of his

party had led

to

seek vengeance for himself.

At the

expiration

of hostilities

Beza returned

to

Geneva

and

resumed

the f unc tions

he

had

been

compelled to intermit

for about

a year

and

a h a l f .

To

the admiration

which

he had

aroused

in friends

and foes alike, he had added the strong affection

and confidence of a l l the French Huguenots won by

his arduous and disinterested

services in their

behalf.

Of dangers

inc urred there

had been no lack. For

1 I b i d . ,

u b i

s u p r a .



F R A N C O I S , DUC DE G U I S E .

F R O M

A P R I N T

B Y T H E R E T .

F R O M A N E N G R A V I N G I N

T H E

P R I N T - R O O M , B R I T I S H M U S E U M .





1 5 6 3 ] Return

to

Geneva 227

just

in proportion

as his

friends

had

come to

love

and

rely upon

h i r r i ,

so

had

the

enemies

of

Protest

antism, within and without the kingdom, come

to

hate him as the

most

redoubtable of opponents.

That

they invented falsehoods respecting him was

nothing

strange;

i t

was Beza's experience

to

the

very

end

of his

days.

On the

present

oc c as ion the

fabrication was a rumour that obtained wide cur

rency to

the effect that

Beza

and Cal vin had had

so

violent

a

qua rrel tha t

the

former

did

not

dare

to

return

to

Geneva

In the f u l l belief that the story

was true, the Duchess

of

Parma, Spanish Regent of

the

Low Countries, thinking

i t

likely

that

Beza

might wend his way to Holland or Germany,

secretly

ordered

the

frontiers

to be

watched and

offered a reward of one thousand florins for

Beza's

capture, dead or a l i v e . The Reformer was portrayed

as a

man

of

medium

stature, with a high and

broad

face, and a

beard

that was half

grey.1

1

R i s e of t h e Huguenots,

i i . ,

3 8 8 .



CHAPTER

XIII

BEZA SUCCEEDS CALVIN—E EDITS THE GREEK

NEW TESTAMENT

1 5 6 3 - 1 5 6 5

THEublic records of Geneva bear witness to the

general joy and

thanksgiving to God

that

were

f e l t and expressed at the safe return of

Theodore

Beza after his long and ev entf ul a bs enc e. He

reached his home on

May 5 , 1563.

I t was

therefore

over twenty months

since

he had set out upon his

important mission,

f u l l

of

courage,

but not

blind

to

the dangers of the enterprise.

Within

two days of

his a r r i v a l , a minute

a p p e a r s

on the registers of the

Council, to the

effect

that "

great

thanks, and offers

of ev ery kind of service, have been

received

from

a l l

the French Protestant lords, for the great and

important services

which

Monsieur de Beze ha s

rendered

to

them,

as

well

as to

a l l

the

churches

of

the kingdom.

And

a strong light i s shed upon the

esteem

i n

which the Reformer was

held

in

his

adopted

c i t y ,

and

upon the

reputation

he had

gained through

the unselfishness of his p a st l i f e , by a

statement

i n

the same documents, six d ay s

later (May

1 3 , 1563),

that a

resolution had been

p a s s ed v oting to

grant a l l

that he may need to Beza— l e S pectable de Beze,

2 2 8



i 5 6 4 ]

HeSucceeds Calvin 229

in the curious phraseology of the times

—

who

ha s

expended

much money

i n

his

travels

and

who

would say nothing about

i t ,

even

were

he in great

straits." 1

By

no one

was he

more

cordially welcomed than

by Cal vin himself, not an ol d man—or he was not

yet fifty-four years of

a ge

—

ut

evidently

fast

near-

ing his end. The relation between the two men

had

long

been

of

the

closest

and

most

affectionate

character.

Although the dif f erence of

a ge

was

only

ten years, Beza

had,

from the f i r s t moment that he

set foot

in

Geneva, assumed to the

older

Reformer

the

relation

of a child to his

parent.

Intense

a d

miration for the wonderful intellectual endowments

of

Calvin ripened into a love s u ch

as

c a n exist

only

between

strong characters that

think

the same

great

thoughts.

Calvin

saw in Beza

not

the

slavish

copy

of

himself, but a scholar of greater

polish

and wider

knowledge of p olite soc iety, better c ap able of

deal

ing with courts, with a s trong er p h ys ic a l constitu

tion, and therefore having the promise of being able

to

a c co m p li sh much

that was denied to his

own

enfeebled health. The mutual discovery of their

respective

qualifications

to carry

on

different parts

of the great work committed to them, supplement

ing

e a ch

other, yet acting i n complete harmony,

came

early.

I t came on Calvin's

part long

before

Beza's stay at

Lausanne

approached i t s end. For

when, in 1 55 1 , Beza,

having

occupied his chair in the

Academie

of that city for

only

two years, was i l l of

the pestilence

that

proved mortal to so

many, and

1

Minutes

i n

Baum,

i i . ,

7 3 0 .



230 Theodore Beza . [ 1 5 1 9 -

was reported to be dying, Cal vin t e l l s us tha t he was

prostrated

with

anxiety;

and

this

not

for

himself

alone, but

also

and chiefly for the Church to which

he

f e l t

him to be so essential.

I

should not be a

man, he

wrote at

this time,

i f

I did not love

him

who loves me

with more

than a brother's love and

honours

me as a

father." 1

Beza's l i f e was merci

fully sp ared on that

occasion,

and,

now that

twelve

years of the most confiding friendship and inter

change

of views on every important point

that

could

interest

intelligent

men

had p a ss ed ov er their

heads,

the

love was s t i l l more intense.

But a

return to

the precise relations subsisting

between the two men before Beza

went to France

was now im p os sibl e, s o rapidly had Calvin's health

f a i l e d . He must assume the heavier of Calvin's

burdens, while

waiting

for

the

dreaded

moment

when, with

Calvin's

death, he must attempt to bear

them alone.

I t i s a notable circumstance

connected with

the

period

of the world's history of which we are treat

ing,

that

i t

gave birth to

a horde

of writers

not

merely lovers of scandal but authors of impudent

calumny

against whose envenomed pen the rep uta

tion

of

no

prominent

champion

of the

so-called

new

doctrines"

was safe, either as

to

great

mat

ters or

as

to

small. Beza's antagonist

at

Poissy, the

monk

Claude

d e

Sainctes, was of this type. Among

his many inventions, he was not ashamed to assert

that,

so

far from

having been selected

by Calvin

to

be his successor, Beza, i n his inordinate ambition

1

L e t t e r

o f

June

3 0 ,

1 5 5 1 .

C a l v i n i

O p . ,

x i v , ,

1 4 4 , 1 4 5 .



1 5 6 4 ] HeSucceeds

Calvin

231

and rapacity, scarcely waited for Calvin's removal

from

the

earth

to

f o i s t

himself

upon

the

Church

and

State

of Geneva.

Beza's

reply to this fabrication

i s ,

as usual, dignified and crushing.

" T here wa s no one i n t h i s c i t y a t

that

time," he

w r i t e s , " who did not know that when, a t length,

I

ha d

returned home

f rom your

slaughter-house, that

i s , from

the f i r s t c i v i l war,

a nd

when

i l l n e s s precluded

Calvin's

presence a t our gatherings a nd especially a t the

meetings

of the

presbyters, I

wa s designated, by the

request

of

a l l

my colleagues a nd of Calvin

himself,

who urged

me

t o

accept when I declined

t o d o s o ,

t o

sustain

a portion of

h i s

load. And

t h i s

also

does

everybody know, and the

whole Council

f i r s t

of a l l , t h a t , when Calvin died,

i t

was

only unwillingly

and

with

reluctance that I took

upon

my

shoulders t h i s load; that i n t h i s matter I was moved by

no

consideration

more than by Calvin's own w i l l , ex

pressed

while he

wa s

yet

a l i v e ; a nd that I accepted i t on

no other condition but

that a t

the

end

of the

year some

one e l s e

should

be e l e c t e d . I c a l l God a nd

a l l

my

brethren now t o bear witness that each successive year

I begged of my colleagues that t h i s should be

done,

but

never obtained

my request."

1

The records

of

the

Venerable Company

p ro ve

the truth of Beza's solemn assertion. They t e l l

u s ,

moreover, that the pastors took the precaution to

reserve for

themselves

the

right

of examining

and,

i f

necessary, censuring

even before the

end

of the

1 "

Ad

F . C l a u d i i d e X a i n t e s

Responsionem A l t e r a

Th. B e z s e

A p o l o g i a , "

Trad,

T h e e l . ,

i i . ,

3 6 0 ,




year whatever might seem deserving of reprobation

in

the

conduct

of him

whom

they

continued

to

re

gard as

only

the equa l of his brethren.

" The

moderator," so the minutes

read,

" s h a l l always

r e c a l l Monsieur

Calvin, who, so severe

against

the

vicious

a nd the impious, never made use of

an

inordinate

author

i t y i n h i s relations with h i s brethren; but, on the con

t r a r y , adapting

himself so

f a r a s

possible t o a l l , managed

t o

lighten the task of each."

And so the

custom

remained

until

1580, when a

more frequent renewal of the election came into

vogue.

Even then

i t

was

Beza

himself, with the

sup port of Trembley, that urged a change by which

each

member

was in turn called upon

to

preside at

the

meetings

for

a

single

week.

The

innovation

could not, in the very nature of the case, make any

diminution in

some of Beza's

other

engrossing cares,

especially

s u ch

as arose

from

his vastly extended

correspondence with the churches of

a l l

parts of

Protestant Christendom.1

I t f e l l

to

Beza's

l o t , as

the friend

upon whom

the

mantle

of the

master

f e l l , to t e l l the story

of

Calvin's

l i f e and death to the world, and to t e l l

i t

promptly.

Of Calvin's

works,

the l a s t to be

finished was his

Commentary on

Joshua.

I t

remained

unpublished

at the time of his death. Beza brought the work

out

with

a

biography

of the

author

prefixed,

in

lieu

of the

customary preface from the author's own

1

Heppe,

2 2 9 , 2 30 ,



1 5 6 4 ]

He

Succeeds Calvin 233

pen. I t opened with a few touching and appro

priate

words.

" Had i t pleased

God t o

preserve

t o us

longer H is

f a i t h f u l servant, Mr. John

Calvin,

o r , r a t h e r ,

had

not the

perversity of the world moved the Lord t o take him t o

Himself so soon, the present would not be the l a s t of the

works i n which

he

has so

f a i t h f u l l y

a nd ha p pil y busied

himself for the

a d v an cement

of

God's

glory a nd f o r the

e d i f i c a t i o n

of

the

Church.

Nor

would

t h i s

commentary

i s s u e without being crowned as i t

were

by some excellent

preface, l i k e the r e s t . But i t has ha p pened t o i t as t o

poor

orphans who

are l e s s highly favoured

than

t h e i r

brethren,

i n that t h e i r

father has

l e f t

them too e a r l y .

However,

I

see t h i s orphan

t o

be s prung from so

goodly

a house, thank God,

a nd

bearing

so strong

a

resemblance

t o h i s f a t h e r , that without a ny other testimony he w i l l

make

himself

not

only very

agreeable,

but

also

very

honourable i n

the eyes of

a l l that s h a l l

see

i t . For

t h i s

reason

I

purpose not t o recommend i t by any testimony

of my own—hat need of i t ?—ut rather t o lament with

i t the death of him who has been a

common

father both

t o

i t a nd t o me. For I neither c an nor ought I t o

esteem

him

l e s s my

father

because of what God has

taught me through him, than should

t h i s

book and so

many

other

books

for

having

been

written

by

him.

I

s h a l l therefore bewail my l o s s , but t h i s s h a l l not be with

out consolation.

For, as

regards

him

of whom

I speak,

I

should have loved

him

too l i t t l e while a l i v e here below,

i f the blessedness into which he i s now admitted did not

change

my

personal

sadness into

rejoicing because

of

h i s

gain. And I should

have

derived

l i t t l e p r o f i t from

h i s teaching so holy a nd admirable, from h i s l i f e so good

a nd

upright,

from

h i s

death

so

ha p p y a nd

Christian,

had




I

not

been

instructed by

a l l

these

means to submit

my

s e l f

t o

the

Providence

of

God

with

a l l

satisfaction

and

content." 1

A f u l l year had not p as s ed since Calvin's death

when Beza gave

to

the world, in 1565, the

most

notable of his contributions to

Biblical

science.

This was an edition of the Greek text of the New

Testament, accompanied i n

parallel

columns

by

two

translations into

Latin,

the

one

being

the

text

of

the

Vulgate, t he ot her

an

original translation of his own.

This

latter translation

he had published

as

far back

as in 1556. This was the reason that the present

work bore the misleading

designation

of a second

edition, although

i t

was in reality the

first

edition

of the Greek text. There were

added

annotations

which Beza had also previously published, but which

on this occasion he

greatly enriched

and enlarged.

In the preparation of this edition of the Greek

text,

but

much more

in the preparation of

the

second

edition of that text which he brought out seventeen

years

later ( i n 1582), Beza might have

availed him

s e l f of the

help

of a

valuable

m anus cri pt of great

antiquity which the fortunes of war

threw

into his

hands.

The

uncial

now

known

to

the

literary

world

as the "

Codex

Bezae, "

and briefly referred

to

by

the letter D, had ap p arently long rested in the

library

of

the

Monastery of

Saint Irenaeus

at

Lyons.

I t was a copy of the New Testament made in the

middle

of the sixth century, and comprised the

1 L i f e o f C a l v i n i n F r e n c h , p r e f i x e d t o C o m . o n J o s h u a . Repub

l i s h e d

i n

( E u v r f s

F r a n c a i s e s

d «

C a l v i n

e d .

by

P a u l

L .

J a c o b ) ,

p .

3 .



1 5 6 5 ]

Edits

Greek

Testament 235

Gospels and the Acts of the

Apostles both

in Greek

and

Latin.

In the

iconoclasm

and

pillage

to

which

Lyons was

subjected

by Huguenot soldiers in the

f i r s t c i v i l war,

this

precious monument of antiquity

was ha p p i ly saved, and p a s se d into the possession of

Beza. The

great

Hellenist undoubtedly

recognised

i t s

value, but startled, i t i s said, by the singularity

of some of i t s readings, made l i t t l e use of i t i n the

preparation of his

editions.

When, after

a score of

years, the

decline of

his powers

warned him

of the

near approach of the c lose of his

period

of studious

productiveness,

he presented the m anus cri pt

to

the

University

of Cambridge, where

i t may s t i l l be seen

among the c hoi c e possessions of that s ea t of learning.

In a similar

way, Beza had

the

advantage

of

access,

for the latter part of the

New Testament,

to the

text of

a

second

manuscript

containing

only

that

portion of

the

Sacred

Scriptures,

and

dating

from

but a l i t t l e later in the same sixth century. From

the circumstance that i t had been found by

Beza

in

Clermont, this manuscript,

which i s

now

in

the

National Library at Paris, i s known as the " Codex

Claromontanus. 1

I t was not, however, to thes e s ourc es that Beza

was chiefly indebted,

but

rather

to

the p rev ious

edition of the eminent Robert Stephens (1550),

i t s e l f based in great measure upon one of the

later

editions (the fourth or

f i f t h , i t

i s

said) of

Erasmus.

1

On t h e "

Codex B e z ; e " s e e

v o l .

i i . , No. 1 , o f T e x t s and

S t u d i e s .

S t u d y of C o d e x B e z a , by J . Rendel H a r r i s , Cambridge U n i v e r s i t y

P r e s s , 1 8 9 3 . A p h o t o g r a p h i c f a c s i m i l e

h a s b e e n

i s s u e d

by t h e same

p r e s s

i n

1 8 9 8 ,

I

u n d e r s t a n d ,

which

I

have

n o t

s e e n .




"

In order

t o produce t h i s entire

work," says

Beza

himself,

i n

h i s

p ref ac e, "

I

have

compared

with

the

r e

marks of a Valla,

Peter

Stapulensis, and Erasmus, the

most learned writings both of the

Greeks

a nd the

Ro

mans,

a s well a s

the

moderns,

a nd

I

acknowledge that I

have often been e s s e n t i a l l y

supported

by t h e s e , even

though I have not made

myself

so

dependent

on either

these

or those a s not t o remain true t o my own judg

ment. To a ll t h i s

there

was added a copy from the

library

of

our

Stephens

which

ha d

been

most

carefully

collated by h i s son, Henry Stephens (who has inherited

h i s f a t h e r ' s i n d e f a t i g a b i l i t y ) ,

with

some

f i v e and twenty

manuscripts

and almost a l l

the printed editions." 1

The result

of

Beza's labours was a new edition

of

the text of the

New

Testament which, especially in

the improved form in which i t appeared in

1 582

and

thereafter,

ha s

a

recognised

p l ace

of

great

influence

i n

the history

of

Biblical study.

That

the

learned

a uthor s uc c eed ed in making

a l l

the use of

his

ma

t e r i a l , limited as i t was, which a modern scholar

trained

in the rigid

system now

practised might

have

derived

even from s uc h i na d eq ua te

apparatus,

cannot be affirmed. The

rules

of textual criticism

were of the crudest kind, and

Beza

himself would

seem at

times

to

have adhered

with

l e s s

consistency

than at others to the canons which he himself had

laid down. But at least there was progress; and

Beza's

labours i n this

direction were

exceedingly

hel pf ul to those

that

came

a f t e r .

The same thing

may

be asserted

with equal

truth

of

Beza's

Latin version and of the c op ious notes

1

S e e

Heppe,

3 6 2 .



1 5 6 5 ] Edits Greek Testament 237

with

which

i t was accompanied. The former i s said

to

have

been

published

over

a

hundred

times.

Both

were composed with the

purpose of

conveying a

more exa c t not ion of the sense than could be de

rived from the Vulgate.

Both

bear

in

every

verse

marks of the keen insight, close discrimination, well-

trained linguistic s k i l l of a scholar

who

had made

himself by an unusually comprehensive study

of

profane as well as sacred literature

almost

as familiar

with

the

idioms

of

the

Greek

as

with

those

of

the

Latin tongue. The a p parently unprofitable years

s pent

at

Paris in

reading the

works of

the

ancients,

with no present object in view other than the grati

fication of personal literary tastes,

now

bore

abund

ant fruit in an unexpected direction. The Biblical

exegete, not less than the elegant orator

at

Poissy,

drew

upon

a

treasury

of

classic

lore

stored

up

i n

the

years

of

leisure when the chief end of the elegant

youth from Vezelay seemed

to be

above everything

else to avoid

compulsion

to

wear

l i f e away in the

dull and repulsive practice

of

the law. The merits

of his work

have

been variously estimated ; for i n

deed i t possessed along

with i t s

conspicuous excel

lences some peculiarities regarded

by

adverse c r i t i c s

as

undeniable

defects. Of

these

the

chief

ha s

been

found by some to

consist

in the preponderating in

fluence exercised upon the

interpretation

of

Scripture

by

the a uthor' s view of the doctrine of Predestina

tion. However this may be, there i s no question

that Beza

added much both by

his

version

and

by

his notes to a clearer understanding of the New

Testament. He was no servile follower of the Vul



238 Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 6 5

gate,

and while

he was not

always

felicitous, either

from

the

standpoint

of

style

or

from

that

of

inter

pretation, in

his departures

from the rendering

of

the Vulgate, i t

i s

quite

certain, as

we

might expect

to be the case in the serious work of so earnest a

s tud ent, tha t he introduced no changes for change's

sake.1

1 See Heppe, 3 6 4 - 3 6 8 .



CHAPTERXIV

BEZA S BROAD SYMPATHIES—YNOD OF LA

RO-

CHELLE—MASSACRE OF

SAINT

BARTHOLO

MEW'S

DAY

—

HE ENGLISH REFORMATION

ITH

Calvin's responsibilities Theodore Beza

V V had also

inherited

Calvin's

broad

sympathies

and his insatiable a vid ity to learn everything occur

ring i n any part

of

the

world

that

bore

upon the

progress of the kingdom of Christ. This occupied

his

thoughts almost to the exclusion of

matters

of

purely secular importance. This f i l l e d a grea t p a rt

of

his correspondence, especially with men l i k e -

minded but less favourably situated

for

the

receipt

of

intelligence from abroad. In

p articular, his l e t

ters

to

Bullinger, throughout a long series of yea rs ,

contain

what

may properly

be

styled

the

current

history of Christendom. Afew sentences of a letter

to the Zurich Reformer, written from Geneva, June

6 , 1566, may serve

as

a

specimen

of

this

correspond

ence, while

giving

a g li m p se of the sta te of Europe

two years after

Calvin's

death. It ha s nev er

been

published.

"

We

are

enjoying

our

peace,

through

the

singular

1 5 6 6 - 1 5 7 4



240

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

a nd incredible

kindness

of

God.

For i t

i s

clear

t o us

that never

have

our

enemies

been more animated than

they

now

are against t h i s l i t t l e church

and

t h i s school.

But hitherto God has frustrated a ll the e f f o r t s of the

wicked. I t

i s

probable that

were

we

t o

stand

aloof

a nd

hold our p ea ce [the

Duke

o f ] Sa voy

would e a s i l y secure

everything against

that

slave of a l l i n i q u i t y , Geneva,

wherein reigns

that

notable robber Beza. We s h a l l

l i v e ,

however, so

long as i t s h a l l seem

good t o the Lord.

Doubtless

you

have

learned

f u l l y

a l l that has been

done

a t

Augsburg, and

how

those

thunderbolts of t h e i r s have

vanished i n em pt y sound.

I

hope

that

the Lord w i l l

dissipate the r e s t of the tempests that are

imminent. .

.

.

" For the r e s t , so f a r as appertains to the French

Churches themselves, they are happily growing i n the

s i g h t

of their adversaries. But i t

i s certain

that

the

l a t t e r are

only

watching t o obtain an opportunity f o r

overwhelming

the

chief

men

and

subsequently

ruining

the r e s t . Of t h i s our friends have

no

doubt, and

mean

while look

t o God

[ f o r h e l p ] . Among

the Piedmontese

[Waldenses] a f t e r the departure of Mr. Junius, the

same

thing occurred t o our brethren

that

b e f e l l the I s r a e l i t e s

when P ha ra oh wa s

wonderfully

exasperated a t the f i r s t

appeal of Moses.

What

w i l l happen, God

only

knows.

In

England, everything i s gradually

tending

t o a

mani

f e s t

contempt

of

a l l

r e l i g i o n

;

g ood m en ,

indeed , groan,

but onl y

too few.

In Scotland after

the

slaying

of

S ec

retary

D a v i d [Rizzio]

the queen

i s

said t o have become

so insane as even t o have h i s bones interred i n the

sepulchre of her f a t h e r s . Hence fresh disturbances

have

a r i s e n .

But i n

short

i t i s

represented

that a l l

matters are

now s e t t l e d

on

conditions that

are not

un

equal, i f

onl y they

be s u f f i c i e n t l y

s t a b l e .

Thus much I

have

t o w r i t e .

Farewell,

my

f a t h e r ,

and

continue,

as



1 5 6 6 ]

Broad Sympathies

241

you

do, t o

commend us

t o God.

Two days ago

we

counted

up

two

thousand

students

a t

the

promotions

of

our school. Pray that the Lord may bless these begin

nings, while Satan

impotently

gnashes h i s teeth." 1

The attempt to make of

Geneva

a

model

to Christ

endom for the

purity

of i t s morals,

enforced

by a

legislation

of

unexampled

strictness, was

not

sus

pended

at

Calvin's

death,

but

found

in

Theodore

Beza as decided a n advocate as i t possessed in his

predecessor. Calvin had

not

been

in

his

grave two

years when a signal proof of this f ac t was

afforded.

The number of bishops that were converted to

Protestantism and resigned

their

sees, i n the early

days

of

the

French Reformation, was larger than

one might suppose. Among them was Jacques

P a ul S p if am e,

Seigneur

de

Passy,

Bishop

of

Nevers,

who,

i n

1559,

forsook

the

kingdom and

took

refuge

i n Geneva. Here, as a nobleman, he was readily

admitted to citizenship, as well as to the ministry.

Subsequently

he

served

as

pastor at

Issoudun. C a l

vin urged

him,

in a letter s t i l l extant, to return to

Nevers and take charge of the newly established

Protestant

church,

showing the

p eo p l e

of his

former

diocese that i f

he had formerly been their bishop

only in

name,

i t was his

purpose

now

to

be a bis hop

i n

deed." But

unfortunately Spifame

was not of the

stuff of which good pastors are made. The incon

sistencies that appeared in his l i f e both when the

1

L e t t e r o f

June

6 , 1 5 6 6 . Copy i n Baum

C o l l .

MSS., L i b . o f F r .

P r o t . H i s t . S o c .

s

L e t t e r

o f

January

2 4 ,

1 5 6 2 .

B o n n e t ,

L e t t .

F r a n . ,

i i . ,

4 5 3 ,

e t c .

1 6



Theodore Beza. ^519-

Prince of Conde selected him for

some diplomatic

work

in

Germany,

and

when

he

sojourned

at

the

court of the Queen of Navarre, led to investigation,

and

investigation

d is cl os ed c rim e. In the end

he

was arrested and

tried

for adultery at Geneva,

and

being found guilty was sentenced to death. D e s p ite

his tardy confession and the contrition for his sins

which he

testified on

the scaffold, by an address to

the

people

that

was

a c c e p te d

as satisfactory

proof

of repentance, he was publicly put to de ath on

March 23,

1566.

I t need scarcely be said that so severe a punish

ment for a crime

of

which

in the neighbouring

king

dom the courts of justice were not wont to take

cognisance,

created a

profound

sensation and drew

down

upon

the l i t t l e republic of

Geneva,

and

upon

the

ministers

that

approved

the

republic's course,

almost universal condemnation. But the

govern

ment did not

flinch

in the

determination

to

uphold

the law, nor did Beza f a i l to

espouse i t s

defence.

Writing, to the eminent Pithou, of Troyes, in

Cham

p agne,

less

than

a

month after

the event, he

says,

in a

letter

which,

I believe,

i s inedited

: 1

"

I

know well

that

everybody

w i l l

pass

h i s

own

judg

ment,

a nd that Satan

w i l l

not spare

u s .

But I

hope

that

the wise w i l l

c a l l

t o mind the

Lord's warning that bids

us not t o judge

rashly

of our brethren,

a nd therefore,

with s t i l l greater reason, not t o think i l l of an entire

Christian Seigniory a nd Church. . . . As t o the others,

1

M a n u s c r i p t l e t t e r o f B e z a , o f

A p r i l

2 2 , 1 5 6 6 ,

now

i n

t h e m o u t h s

, a n t o

Him

werdinand J .

D r e e r ,

o f P h i l a d e l p h i a , t o whose k i n d n e s s

I a m

i n d e b t e d

f o r

a f a c s i m i l e .



1 5 6 9 ]

Broad Sympathies 243

who w i l l judge a s they please, i t i s

God's

province t o

stop t h e i r mouths,

a nd t o Him

we

appeal from a l l

foolish

judgments passed i n so many places

against

us."

While every part

of

Christendom

where

the truth

was

struggling for

existence

claimed and

secured

Beza's

attention and

prayers, i t

was,

next to Geneva

and i t s schools the work in France that lay nearest

to his

heart.

In

that kingdom the

interv a l of quiet

was short. Then

two more c i v i l wars rudely

dis

turbed

the

delusive

dream of

steady

progress

in

which the Protestants

had indulged.

The

disasters

of Jarnac and Moncontour at f i r s t seemed fatal

blows from which the Huguenot cause would be

slow to recover, i f

ever

i t

should recover from them

at

a l l .

But the marvellous ability developed

by

Admiral Coligny, in turning a flight before the

enemy

into

a

successful

advance

that

carried

war

almost to the gates of the capital, raised the hopes

of

the despondent and wrested from unwilling hands

t he c on ces s ion of a p e a c e on favourable

terms.

So

long as

i t lasted, the

French

war

brought new

cares and anxieties

for Beza.

Fugitives poured

into

Geneva in an almost incessant stream, and these

fugitives

were

for the time to

be

provided

with food

and

shelter.

At

such

crises

i t

was

to

Beza

that

a l l

eyes looked for a d vice and direction.

Never

did he

f a i l

to

secure

the

needy

material a i d . Furnished

with

strong

letters of

recommendation,

envoys sent from

Geneva at his suggestion laid the pitiable condition

of the

destitute Huguenot

ref ugees bef ore the

charitable Swiss cantons, while by direct a p p e a l s

the Reformer reached those

that

were like-minded




in the Low Countries and beyond the English

Channel.

/

Meanwhile,

although the p eriod

was

indeed

one

of deep solicitude, i t was relieved, for Beza, from

time to

time,

by some

rays

of

encouragement and

hope. The

Church of

Geneva was steadily growing,

the theological s c hool rec eiv ed a constant and in

deed

a s wel ling stream of

students.

In 1 5 6 9

Beza

was able to

write

to

John Knox that

the

University

had

so greatly

increased

the

number

of

i t s

students

that he believed

that

there were

few

institutions of

the

kind

in Christendom

that

were better attended.

Colladon and he taught theology upon alternate

weeks,

and there

had now come a

third professor,

Gallasius

by name, driven

into

this

haven, as

had

a n

almost countless crowd been driven thither, by the

tempests of

France.

Yet were there two circum

stances that prevented

the Reformer from

taking

s u ch

solid joy as

he might

otherwise have experi

enced from these tokens of prosperity : the one was

that i f

the

church

was growing in a

marvellous

fashion, i t was growing because of the ruin of other

churches; the s ec ond , that the plague which had

sorely vexed the l i t t l e

city

on

Lake

Leman a

year

back

had

within

about

a

month

entered

upon

a

new course of destruction.1 The state

of

things

was worse, instead

of

better, three years l a t e r , a

few months

before

the news came of the Parisian

massacre.

" While you

o f f yonder,"

he

wrote t o the same

corre-

L e t t e r t o

John Knox,

June

5 ,

1 5 6 9 .

T r a c t ,

T h e o l . ,

i i i . ,

2 8 7 .





i s . , f .

1

H i



1 5 7 i ] Synod

of

La

Rochelle

245

spondent, alluding

t o

the intestine c om m ot ion s a n d t o the

deeds

of violence that were enacted i n Scotland, " are

exercised by tragedies such as not even Greece entire

celebrated

i n her

theatres,

we have meantime

been con

tending

for

a

f u l l

period

of s i x

years

with the plague,

nor are we yet altogether through

with

t h i s combat,

which has certainly carried o f f not fewer than

twelve

thousand persons i n t h i s l i t t l e town."

In

f a c t ,

he

informed

Knox, Geneva

was no

longer

the p l ace he had seen years before, for War and

Plague had severely

handled her,

and the

forms of

the school,

once crowded with pupils,

were now

empty.1

When

the

Peace of Saint

Germain, in 1570, closed

the deadliest war to which the Protestants had as

yet been exposed, the ardour of Beza's interest i n

the

a f f a i r s

of

his

native

land

did

not

f l a g .

A

few

months later there was held, in the month of April,

1

571,

and

within

the walls of La Rochelle, most

Protestant perha p s of a l l the c i t i e s

of

France, the

seventh

i n order

of the national synods of the Re

formed Churches, and

one

of the most

impressive

of

a l l these historical

assemblies. Not only did Theo

dore

Beza

come

a l l

the

way

from

Geneva to

preside

as moderator over this body representative of a l l the

adherents of the

Protestant

f a i t h , but there

was a

brilliant representation at

i t s sessions

of that large

class of princes and nobles that stood at the head of

the Huguenot party and had lately been foremost

i n maintaining

i t s

rights on the f i e l d of battle. Their

enthusiasm had n ev er r un higher. Jeanne d'Albret,

1

L e t t e r t o t h e

s a m e ,

A p r i l 1 2 , 1 5 7 2 . I b i d . ,

i i i . ,

2 9 0 .



246 Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

Queen

of Navarre, was there. With her were the

two princes in whom centred the hopes of the

Pro

testants—enry

of

Navarre, who, i t was hoped,

would make

good the

damage wrought

by the de

fection of his father, and Henry of Conde, whom

po pu l ar expectation regarded as destined to rep l ac e

his

father

Louis,

slain

at

Jarnac. There, too, were

Admiral Coligny, Count Louis of Na s s au , brother

of

William

the

Silent,

Prince

of

Orange,

and

others

scarcely

less distinguished. The

national synods

were purely

religious

bodies, unlike in this the

" political assemblies

which were occasionally

con

vened for more secular purposes. But the

present

synod seemed almost to be a joint convention of

everything

most highly revered in Church and State.

The most august moment was when

three cop ies

of

the

Confession

of

Faith

of

the

Protestant

Churches

having been carefully

engrossed on

parchment, each

copy was signed, in a c c ord a nc e with a solemn reso

lution

adopted on the

f i r s t

day of the sessions, not

only by

a l l

the ministers

and elders,

but also by

Queen Jeanne d'Albret and by a l l the princes and

noblemen in the company. The f i r s t copy was

to

be p res erv ed

in

La

Rochelle

;

the

second,

in

a

city

of the district of Beam; the third was sent for

safe keeping to Geneva.

I t was not a mere form i n which the delegates en

gaged, when giving to the Confession of Faith

which

the

French Churches

had adopted and presented

to

Francis I I . twelve years before, their renewed and

solemn adhesion.

It was not

merely to

honour

Theodore

Beza

that

the

Queen

of

Navarre

and

her



1 5 7 i ] Synod of

La

Rochelle 247

wise

counsellors,

disregarding his f i r s t refusal, had

insisted, in

a

reiterated

a pp ea l, tha t

he

should

come

to

preside

over the synod. Nor was

i t an

accident

that the very f i r s t

subject to

be considered was

that

of the Confession of Fa ith, to

be

followed immedi

ately by the

Ecclesiastical

Discipline

or

Form

of

Government. The very

existence

of the churches

under their present

constitution

was i n question, and

i t had

to

be d ec id ed firmly, explicitly, and once for

a l l ,

that

the

structure

whose

foundations

had

been

so firmly l a i d , but whose order and symmetry the

years of

war

and

confusion

through

which

the

Pro

testants had been pa ssing had seriously menaced,

should be reared

according to

i t s original design.

There

were those

who

wished

to

disturb the repre

sentative system

with i t s

successive courts, rising

from the

session or

consistory of the individual

church, through

the

classis

or

presbytery

and the

provincial

synod, to the

national

synod of the entire

kingdom, and, in p l a c e of securing

to

the faithful a

purely independent existence, to subordinate the

Church to the State,

and

make the pastor, instead of

the free choice of the Christian community, the ap

pointee

of the c i v i l

magistrate.

The

c i v i l magis

trate,"

someone

had

lately

written,

i s

the

head

of

the Church, and what the

ministers

are

undertaking

to exercise

i s

a pure

tyranny.

Theodore Beza was

requested

by the national synod

to

rep ly to the at

tacks

made upon the Confession

and Government

of the churches.1 I t was not the f i r s t nor the l a s t of

s u ch

important charges which

were p l a c e d

in

his

1 Aymon, Tous l e s S y n o d e s , i . ,

9 9 .



248

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 I 9 -

hands by the Protestants of France assembled i n

their highest

ecclesiastical councils.

The

year

following

beheld

the

occurrence

of

a n

event which changed the whole face of French his

tory

—

he Massacre

of

Saint

Bartholomew's

Day

—

f

the tragic

story of which

we

may

not in

this p l a ce

even attempt to give an outline.1

The butchery of the Huguenots that began in the

city of

Paris on

the

morning

of Sunday,

August

24,

1572,

afforded a

fresh

opportunity

to

Beza,

and

to

the

l i t t l e republic

of which he was now avowedly the

leading statesman,

to

display their charity toward

the persecuted Protestants of France. S ev eral days

would have been required in the mi d st of profound

p e a c e for the

tidings to

p a s s from the capital

to

the

borders of Switzerland

;

the

news

was

purposely re

tarded

in the turmoil into

which

the kingdom was

thrown by the dastardly crime that

inaugurated

the

carnage.

Not

until Saturday, the 30th, did the

f i r s t

information

reach Geneva,

brought

by merchants

from Lyons. These were the advance-guard of a

great host of f ugitiv es soon to be expected. Start

ling

as

was

the

horrible

announcement to the

major

ity of the citizens, i t c a n scarcely be said to have

surprised

Beza,

a

keen

observer

of

contemporaneous

history,

whom a c q ua i nt an c e wi th

the main actors i n

French a f f a i r s and careful study of their characters

had p re p a re d even for so

tragic

a scene as that now

presented to

the

eye in

his

native

land.

Least of

a l l did the fate of the magnanimous and unsus-

1 S e e a

f u l l

a c c o u n t

i n

t h e

R i s e of t h e

Huguenots, c h a p t e r s

x v i i i ,

and x i x ,



1 5 7 2 ]

Massacre

of

S t. Bartholomew 249

picious Admiral

Coligny astonish him ; for he had

foreseen

the

catastrophe

and attempted

to

set

the

victim on

his

guard.

Never,

he

wrote to a

friend

in H eidelberg, " ha s so much perfidy, so much

atrocity, been

seen.

How many times did

I

predict

the thing

to

him [Coligny]

How many times

did

I forewarn him Yet Beza's apprehensions had

probably been rather for the l i f e of the great

Huguenot leader,

and

could

scarcely

have embraced

the

lives

of

so

many

thousands,

especially of

more

obscure

men, women, and children whose blood

drenched the ground in

almost

every part of the

country. In the mi d st of the deep affliction into

which

the tidings cast

him,

the faithlessness of the

young king and

the

ineffable meanness

of the

after

thought by which i t was

attempted

to make cul

prits

of

the innocent,

especially

raised

his

indignant

protest.

" The king a t f i r s t l a i d everything t o the account

of

the

Guises,"

Beza wrote t o a friend

i n

the

l e t t e r j u s t

quoted; now he writes that

a l l

was done by h i s own

orders. He dares t o accuse of a conspiracy those

men

whom

he c aus ed t o be assassinated a t Paris i n t h e i r beds,

men

of whom the world was not worthy."

Most of

a l l

did

his

sympathies

go

out toward the

region nearest to Geneva, from which came the

majority of those

who safely

reached i t s

hospitable

refuge.

" At Lyons,

a l l , excepting

a small number of persons

saved by the cupidity

of

the

s o l d i e r s ,

presented them

s e l v e s of t h e i r own accord t o be shut up i n the prisons;



250 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

then themselves

offered t h e i r necks [ t o the knife].

Not

one

drew

a s word , not one murmured, not one wa s

ques

tioned. All were butchered l i k e sheep a t the shambles,

a nd meanwhile the

pretext

wa s raised of a conspiracy.

O Lord, Thou hast

seen

these things,

and Thou w i l t

judge P r a y for us

t o o , who may expect

the

same

f a t e .

Our government i s doing i t s duty, but i t

i s

i n God

that

we

must p ut our

hope." 1

During the

weeks that

followed, Beza found

no

^

lack

of

employment

in

encouraging

and

stimulating

the

Genevese,

whose

resources were

taxed

to

the

utmost by the sudden

addition

to their

numbers of

a multitude of once prosperous but now homeless

and destitute refugees,

only too

glad

to have

es

caped from France

with their l i v e s . Not that the

citizens themselves needed to be reminded of the

claims of

common

humanity and a common f a i t h .

They

could

boast,

in

after

days,

of

the

fact

that

as

fast as the fugitives arrived,

they

were

carried

o f f

to

private

homes, one citizen contending with

another as to which

should

have the honour of

en

tertaining and

caring

for

those

that bore the marks

of

having endured the

greatest hardships or

received

the most

wounds. In

f a c t , so fully did individual

liberality

provide

for

immediate

wants,

that,

at

f i r s t ,

no public help was

called

f o r . Only

after the

lapse

of a month was the need f e l t of lightening the bur

den assumed by the citizens. Then a collection of

funds was

made, in which the wealthy councillors

and the p a stors took, we are told, the largest part.

I t was Beza who,

conscious

that, in the

danger

that

1

J 5 e z a

t o

T . T i l i u s ,

September

j o ,

1 5 7 2 . B u l l e t i n , v i i . ,

1 6 ,









252 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

which

He has f i r s t

drunk: knowing

that our sorrow

s h a l l

be

turned into

j o y ,

and that

we s h a l l laugh i n our turn

when the

wicked

s h a l l weep a nd gnash their

t e e t h .

' '

1

Fully twenty Protestant pastors had

found

their

way to

Geneva. These shepherds

driven from their

flocks

were

the special

objects

of Beza's fraternal

solicitude. The perils to

which they had found

themselves

exposed

did

n ot d is c ou ra g e

others

from

entering

upon the

studies

that would qualify them

to embrace

the

same

dangerous

vocation.

Beza's

hands were f u l l with providing for the r e l i e f of their

extreme want.

Our school," he wrote

at

the be

ginning of winter, " i s f u l l , a lm os t too f u l l ; but the

greater part of our students have come to

us

in a

s ta te of utter destitution." At that very time—uch

was

the

Reformer's

untiring

literary

activity

—

e

could write tha t the

second

volume of his theologi

cal

works,

a

ponderous

f o l i o , was in press, in

which,

he a dd ed ,

he contemplated

the insertion

of

sev

eral new pieces,

especially

some

theological

l e t t e r s ,

should

God grant him

leisure." 2

The Parisian massacre,

great

as was the disappoint

ment

of cherished hopes which i t

created, did not

permanently

dishearten Theodore

Beza and

those

that, like Beza, had looked for the speedy conversion

of France

to the Gos p el .

Much less

did

i t c h i l l his

affection and

dampen

his

interest

i n his

native

land..

After i t not less than before i t , he remained the

ad vocate and counsellor of French

Protestantism.

1 G a b e r e l , i n R i s e

of

t h e Huguenots, i i . ,

5 5 5 , 5 5 6 .

? Beza t o T . T i l i u s , December

3 ,

1 5 7 2 . B u l l e t i n ,

v i i . ,

1 7 .



1 5 7 2 ]

Massacre of

S t. Bartholomew 253

The emergency might be

purely ecclesiastical,

or

might

have

reference

to

the

political

relations

of

his

fellow-believers; but whatever

i t

was, the Hugue

nots regarded themselves as

entitled

to the services

of a

man

equally

at

home

in

religion

and in

diplo

macy. Prince Henry of Conde f e l t that he could

not do without this prudent adviser;

and

so

often

did he

invite

the

Genevese

to

make

him a "

loan

"

of their leading theologian, that at length, becoming

impatient

of

the

inconvenience

to

which

they

were

repeatedly put, they politely informed his Highness

that he would do well henceforth to depend on the

l e t t e r s , in

lieu

of

the v i s i t s ,

of Beza.1

Nor was the

latter less a tried friend and adviser of Henry of

Navarre, who rarely failed to

communicate

to

the

Reformer his conclusions on a l l matters

of

prime im

portance, and

attempt

to justify his course

i n

the

Reformer's eyes, i n case

he

seemed to have acted

precipitately or

ill-advisedly. This does not

mean

that

the wayward prince was

much

disposed to

follow

Beza's

recommendations, s a ve where these

coincided with his own predilections. But he p ro

fessed

to

value them

highly and

not to reject

Beza's

holy admonitions, even

when not profiting

by

them.

"

I beg you

t o

love me always," wa s

the postscript of

one of h i s

l e t t e r s ,

" assuring

you that you

could not give

a

share

of your friendship to any prince that would be

l e s s

ungrateful

for

i t , a nd

t o

continue your

good

reproof

a s

i f

you were my father."

2

1 The Huguenots

and

Henry of

Navarre, i . , 1 5 .

2

L e t t e r

p f

February

I ,

1 5 8 1 . L e t t r e s

M i s s i v e s

d e

Henri

2

' V , , \ . ,



254 Theodore

Beza [ t 5 i 9 -

Others

were equally anxious to obtain Beza's views

and more

certain to

be influenced

by

them. The

records of the national synods of the French Re

formed Churches p ro ve that at perplexing points i t

was customary to

rely

much

upon

Geneva, and

that

Geneva's wise leader was

consulted

whether,

for

example, i t was deemed opportune

to

draw up a

statement

of

the rea sons

for which

the

Decrees of

the Council of

Trent

were held to be null

and

void

by

the

Protestant world ,

or to

frame

a n

answer

to

antitrinitarian

books.

No

action of

importance

indeed

seemed complete

which had not been com

municated to Theodore Beza.1

There was

probably no country

in

which Protest

antism had taken any root that did not claim a

share of Beza's attention, and with which

he

did

not at

some

time

or other enter into relations

by his

singularly

extended

correspondence.

Most interest

ing to

us

i s his part in the reformatory movement

in Great Britain, and

especially

in England.

I t

i s scarcely necessary

to remind

the

reader

of

the bitter disappointment which upon their return

to England, in

1558,

and l a t e r ,

awaited

the exiles

who had fled to the Continent to avoid the persecu

tion

reigning

i n

England

during

the

five

years

of

the

reign of Queen

Mary Tudor.

Whereas

they

had

looked for a

s t i l l

more perfect reformation

than

under Edward VI., they found a

retrograde

move

ment tending

to

the reintroduction of theories and

practices

long since discarded.

In p l a ce

of greater

liberty, they

met

with more determined repression,

1

S e e

Aymon, Tous l e s

S y n o d e s ,

i . , 4 7 , 9 9 , 1 2 2 ,

1 2 5 , 1 8 3 ,

2 0 6 ,



1 5 7 4 l The English Reformation 255

In

nothing

were

they

more deceived than in the

attitude of

the

new

queen.

Elizabeth,

upon

whose

sincere

Protestantism they had built their hopes

during

the weary

years

intervening between her

brother's death and that of her elder s i s t e r , proved

to be far less ardent a friend than they had antici

pated. With Geneva

and Genevan

theologians

she

had a

grievance of her own. It was

from Geneva

that

had

issued

the unfortunate

treatise

entitled

"

The First

Blast against the Monstrous Regiment

and Empire of

Women. John

Knox,

who wrote

i t ,

was at

the

time one of the

corps

of preachers,

being pastor

of

the E n g li sh

church

of the city

of

Geneva. In vain could i t be shown that his brethren

in the

ministry

had no part i n the composition of

the treatise, that the y d is a p p r ov ed of i t , that Cal vin

expressed

his

displeasure

to

Knox

and

to

Beza,

and

was

only

deterred from

publicly

condemning i t

by

the c ons id era tion that i t was too late for the ap

plication of s u ch a remedy to do any good. Queen

Elizabeth's

secretary, William

Cecil,

was

a p parently

satisfied with the expl anation, but Elizabeth herself

would

not be reconciled

to

the

Genevese, whom

she

regarded as over-severe

and

precise.1

The new queen was peculiarly fond of pompous

ceremonial, more fond, in f a c t , than the v ery bis hop s

whom she s el ec ted to

take

the

places

of the prelates

of Mary's time who had been removed by death

or whom she had

deprived. One

of

their

number,

John

J ewel , writin g a p parently just

before his

own

1 C a l v i n t o C e c i l (May, o f S a r l i e r ) ,

1 5 5 9 ,

' n C a l v i n i O p . , x v i i . , 4 9 0 ,

and

i n

Zurich

L e t t e r s ,

7 6 ,

e t c .




nomination

to

the see of

Salisbury,

but giving

some

of

the

names of

his

future

colleagues,

states

his

" hope that i t has been arranged, under good auspices,

that

r e l i g i o n s h a l l be restored t o the s a m e s t a t e

as

i t wa s

i n under Edward. But he adds i n the

same

breath:

"

The scenic apparatus

of divine worship i s

now

under

a g i t a t i o n , a nd those very things whic h you and

I

have so

often laughed a t are now seriously a nd solemnly enter

tained

by

certain

persons

(for we

are

not

consulted),

a s

i f

the Christian r e l i g i o n could not e x i s t without something

tawdry. Our minds indeed

are

not s u f f i c i e n t l y disengaged

t o make these fooleries of much

importance."

1

Bishop Grindal, of London, reverting in mind to

this period, wrote six or seven years later :

" We, who are now bishops, on our f i r s t return, a nd

before we entered

on

our ministry, contended long a nd

earnestly

f o r the

removal of those

things

that

have

occa

sioned the present dispute ; but a s we were

unable

t o

p r e v a i l , either

with the

queen or

the

parliament,

we

judged

i t b e s t ,

a f t e r a consultation on the subject, not t o

desert our c hurc hes for the

sake

of a few

ceremonies,

a nd those not unlawful i n themselves, especially since

the

pure

doctrine of the Gospel remained i n a l l i t s i n

t e g r i t y

and freedom."

2

There were others,

however,

and these among the

most

sincere and

pious

of the ministers recently re

turned

from the C ontinent, who honestly regarded

the vestments which the queen and her advisers

1

J . Jewel t o

P e t e r

M a r t y r ,

n o t d a t e d , b u t

w r i t t e n

b e f o r e

h i s

c o n

s e c r a t i o n ,

January 2 1 ,

1 5 6 0 . Zurich L e t t e r s , 3 3 .

5

B p . G r i n d a l

t o

B u l l i n g e r ,

August

2 7 ,

1 5 6 6 .

Z u r i c h

L e t t e r s ,

2 4 3 .



1 5 7 4 ] The English Reformation 257

were determined to

reintroduce as

more

of conse

quence

than

even

the

excellent

bishops

esteemed

them, and refused to don them; who viewed the

use of the sign of the cross in baptism as no indif

ferent

matter, but as

a r e l i c of

popery; who de

clined

to kneel at the

administration of

the Lord's

S up p er, bec a us e to them i t

seemed

to be a plain act

of worship and

marked

a

belief

in the

real

corporeal

presence of Christ

in His

sacrament.

The

neglect

or

refusal

of

these

men

to

obey

the

new

prescrip

tions

was visited with harsh

measures

on the

part

of

the

government. The most sincere of

Christians

and the most devoted

of

pastors were

de prived

of

their places for no other reason than their

scruples

of conscience. Particulars of the

course

of events

during these most

mournful

and disastrous years

of

English

ecclesiastical

history

must

be

sought

else

where.

We have

no room

for them here, s a ve as

bearing

upon

the position taken by the Reformers

of

Geneva

and Zurich. For to Zurich and Geneva

the unfortunate clergymen of

England

naturally

turned for sympathy and

advice.

In

those c i t i e s

many of them had sojourned

during

their exile.

All of

them

had formed relations of friendship with

the l ea di ng

men

of

the

churches

of

one

or

both

of

the c i t i e s . The bishops themselves

were

on terms

of intimacy

with

Beza, in the one, and with Bull-

inger and

Rudolph Gualte'r,

Zwingli's son-in-law,

and

Bullinger's younger

colleague

and

subsequently

• his successor, in the other. In f a c t , Bishop Park-

hurst, of

Norwich,

had

during

four years been a

guest

i n Gualter's

house at Zurich.

Theirs

was

a n

' 7



258


ancient friendship begun as far back as

when

Gual-

ter

was

studying

at

Oxford.1

Between the ministers

returned

from the

Con

tinent

that

protested

strenuously against

the inno

vations

and

the

reintroduction of practices abolished

i n the time of King Edward VI., on the one hand,

and the new bishops who, after a period

of

active

resistance, acquiesced more

or less completely i n

the measures dictated by Queen Elizabeth, on the

other,

the position of the

Swiss

Reformers,

consulted

now by

the

former

and

now

by the l a t t e r , was

of

a

delicate

nature

and by

no

means free from d i f f i c u l

t i e s .

The

Zurich pastors

were

less

happy than

Beza at Geneva in

meeting

these d i f f i c u l t i e s .

At f i r s t , when the trouble seemed to

turn chiefly

upon the question of vestments, o r , at l e a s t , was so

understood

by

them,

the

attitude

of

Beza

and

that

of Bullinger and Gualter were the s a me. Beza was

at one with his Zurich friends in treating the matter

of ecclesiastical

habiliments,

however

absurd

and

unsuitable these

might seem

to him to

be,

as too

insignificant to warrant him in

countenancing

any

disposition on the part of aggrieved minis ters to

abandon

the established church.

But

a

divergence

of

sentiment

developed i t s e l f l a t e r ,

when

the

queen

demanded a slavish submission and the bishops ac

quiesced

in the demand. The

Zurich

theologians,

having once given their confidence to the bishops,

saw no reason

to

withdraw

i t , believing them

men

of piety and integrity. More than a l l , they were'

determined not to be

involved

i n a

conflict

i n

which

1

G u a l t e r

t o

C o x ,

B p .

o f

E l y ,

June

9 ,

1 5 7 2 .

Z u r i c h

L e t t e r s ,

4 0 6 .



1 5 7 4 ]

The

English Reformation

259

the

feelings

of the contestants had become so exas

perated

that

each

side

was

now

to

blame,

and

hardly

any

remedy could be discovered

for

the mischief.

They disclaimed any

power

to

dictate

to the

bishops, and theref ore ref us ed positively

to

take

part

against

them

when they were

p leading their

own cause. They equally abstained from attempt

ing to dissuade their opponents from presenting to

the

elector palatine

a petition

drawn

up

by

George

Withers, one of their number,

with

the view of in

ducing

tha t p rince

to

use his

influence

with Queen

Elizabeth

to

complete

the reformation of the Church,

o r , i f this boon

could

not

be

obtained,

to

secure

" for those that abominated the r e l i c s

of

antichrist

the liberty of not being obliged to

adopt them

against

their

conscience,

or to

relinquish the m inis

t r y .

"

1

Bullinger

and

Gualter

wrote

to

Beza

at

length

that i t was now their decided resolution

to have nothing more to do with anyone in this

controversy, whether in conversation

or

by l e t t e r .

And i f any

other

parties

think of coming

hither,"

they a d d e d , l e t them know that they will come to

no pur po se."

a

Meanwhile

they remained

on such terms

of f riend

ship

with

the

prelates

to

whom

Withers

bade

the

elector palatine transfer a l l the blame from the

queen, as

to be

frequent recipients

of

presents,

es

pecially of

cloth, doubtless very

welcome to them

in their

self-denying

and slenderly p a id labours,

until Bullinger found himself compelled to beg

1 P e t i t i o n

i n

Zurich L e t t e r s , 2 9 8 - 3 0 5 .

1 S e e

t h e i r

l e t t e r

o f

August

3 ,

1 5 6 7 .

I b . ,

2 9 7 ,



260

Theodore

Beza

[ I 5 1 9 -

Bishop

Sandys and

Grindal, now

become Arch

bishop

of

Canterbury,

to

desist

from

sending

more.

Their

enemies

were a s serting that the bishops sent

presents to learned

men

to draw

them to

their side.

"

I

had rather," said the aged Bullinger, that

men who are so ready to speak evil and

calumniate,

s houl d n ot have the least occasion of detracting from

me

and my ministry." 1

Beza, on the other hand, although s t i l l remain

ing

unmoved

in

his love and respect for Bullinger,

as his

c op ious exta nt correspondence

abundantly

proves, and although after Bullinger's

death,

in

1575, continuing

his close

relations wit h Zur ic h

by

a

frequent interchange of

letters

with Rudolph

Gualter, was much more outspoken in his condem

nation of the course of the queen and in expres

sions

of sympathy

with

the

distressed

ministers

who

suffered

for their conscientious refusal to c on

form to her

arbitrary

demands.

The letter which Beza wrote to Bishop

Grindal

(June

27, 1566) i s a

v ery long

and striking docu

ment,

intended

to

stimulate that excellent prelate

to p ut

forth strenuous exertion to

terminate the dis

tressing state of a f f a i r s

in

England. I

shall

not

even

recapitulate

the

arguments

employed

to

ex

hibit the dangers

of

the course upon which the

queen had launched the

ecclesiastical establishment.

He subordinated the question of ritual to doctrine,

conceding that, while the l a t t e r , as

i t

ha s

come

down

to us from the apostles, i s perfect, admitting

1 S e e

t h e

two l e t t e r s , both w r i t t e n on September I 0 , 1 5 7 4 , i n

Z u r i c h

L e t t e r s ,

4 5 9 , 4 6 5 ,




neither addition

nor d im in ut ion , t he forms of wor

ship

were

not

fixed

by

the

apostles

themselves

for

a l l times and a l l places. But he deplored the re

tention of p ra ctices either

absurd

in themselves or

injurious in their tendencies. He condemned

s t i l l

more strongly the reintroduction of objectionable

practices

after they had been discontinued for a

considerable s p a c e of time

—

ractices in defence

of which i t coul d not therefore be truthfully urged

that they

were

followed

through

fear

l e s t

the weak

might be offended.' He charged the responsibility

for schism, i f s chi s m should a r i s e , not

so

much to

the

account

of

su ch brethren as might

forsake the

Church, as to the account of those who

virtually

expelled them.

"

Relying

upon

your

sense

of

equity,"

said

h e ,

"

I

s h a l l

not fear to say t h i s : I f those men

s i n who,

rather than

have

things of the kind forced upon them

contrary t o

their consciences,

prefer

t o leave the

Church,

much

greater g u i l t i n the sight of God a nd the angels i s i n

curred by men, i f such there b e , who allow f l o c k s t o be

deprived of

their shepherds a nd pastors, a nd

thus

permit

the beginnings of a horrible

d i s s i p a t i o n ,

rather

than

see

ministers

i n

a l l

other

respects

blameless

[ o f f i c i a t e ]

clad

i n

t h i s rather

than

that garb, a nd prefer that no S up per

be

offered

anywhere

to

the

starving sheep,

rather than

that

kneeling be omitted. I f t h i s be the r e s u l t , " he

adds, " which I c an scarcely b e l i e v e , i t w i l l

be

the begin

ning of much

greater

calamities. And

i f i t

be

t r u e , a s i s

everywhere

asserted,

though I do not yet credit i t , that

private baptism [ a s i n the Romish Church] by women

i s

-permitted,

I

cannot

see

what

i t

i s

t o

return

from

the goa l



262

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

t o

the

starting-point,

unless

i t be t h i s .

Whence has t h i s

f o u l e s t

of

errors

emanated,

save

from

dense

ignorance

a s t o

the nature

of

the

sacraments

? Whoever i s not

sprinkled

with

water (say

those that

uphold t h i s profan

ation of

baptism) i s d a m ned. I f t h i s be s o , the salvation

of inf ants w i l l a r i s e not from God's covenant (which,

however, i s clearly the foundation of our salvation), but

from the very s e a l of the covenant that

i s

a f f i x e d , a nd

t h i s not

that i t may

be rendered more

certain i n

i t s e l f ,

but

rather

that

we

should

be

made

more

certain

of

i t .

What would be more unjust s t i l l , the entire salvation of

infants would depend upon

the diligence

or negligence

of

parents."

There

were other

rumours

s t i l l more incredible—

so improbable

were

they

—

hat the English prelates

had

reintroduced abuses

than which the

antichrist -

ian

church

had none

that

were

more

intolerable

—

the

plurality

of benefices, licenses

for

non-residence,

permits

to contract marriage, and for the use of

meats, and other things of that s o r t . If the story

was

true, these

were not a

corruption of

the

Christ

ia n religion, they were a clear defection from Christ.

Those consequently were not to be condemned that

opposed s uc h a ttem p ts ; they

were rather

to

be

commended.

The letter ended with some stinging words of re

buke for

those who wished to

force the ministers to

p l e dg e t hem s el v es to obey whatever

the

queen and

the bishops might herea fter pres cribe i n matters of

ecclesiastical r i t u a l .

I

have

yet

t o

learn,"

wrote

Beza, by

what

r i g h t ,




whether you

look

a t the Word of God or

a t

the ancient

canons,

the

c i v i l

magistrate

i s

authorised

t o

introduce

new r i t e s i n churches that ha ve been constituted or t o

abrogate old ones ; what r i g h t bishops have, without the

advice a nd

consent

of their

body of e l d e r s ,

t o ordain any

thing novel. For I

see that

these two curses

[arising

from]

the

base

a nd ambitious adulation of superior bishops

addressed t o

their

princes,

partly abusing their v i r t u e s ,

partly

even ministering

t o

their v i c e s ,

have

ruined

the

Christian

Church

;

u n t i l

i t

has

come

t o

such

a

pass

that

the most powerful of the

Metropolitans

of the West, by

the j u s t judgment of God punishing both magistrates and

bishops, has snatched

up

for himself a l l r i g h t s , human

and divine. Yet I confess that my whole nature shud

ders as often as I r e f l e c t on these things a nd looking

forward see

that

the same a nd yet more b i t t e r punish

ments threaten most of

the

peoples which so eagerly

embraced

the

Gospel

a t

the

beginning,

but

now

are

gradually departing from i t . Nor d o

I

doubt

that

the

same groans of a l l the good are everywhere a r i s i n g . Oh

that the Lord may

answer them,

a nd

for

the sake of

Jesus

Christ, H is Son, give t o

kings

a nd

princes

a t r u l y

pious a nd religious .mind, a nd good a nd courageous

counsellors. May He bestow H is Holy S p i r i t upon the

leaders of

H is

Church,

imparting t o them, f i r s t of

a l l ,

i n

abundant

measure, both

knowledge

a nd

zeal

;

a nd

may

He

increase,

a nd preserve the peoples

that

have a l

ready professed the

true

f a i t h , i n purity of doctrine and

r i t e s a nd i n holiness of l i f e . Farewell, and i n turn con

tinue

t o

love

me

together with t h i s entire Church and

school, a nd t o a s s i s t us with your prayers." 1

Meanwhile Beza, as he informs us, was consulted

1 T r a c t ,

T h e o l . ,

i i i . , 2 0 9 - 2 1 3 ,



264

Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 0 -

again and again by those brethren in the E nglish

churches

who

found

themselves

in

the

utmost

p er

plexity

respecting their duty,

in

view of

the

novelties

thrust upon them. To their inquiries he states that

he long avoided replying, and this for three reasons :

First, he

was unwilling to believe that su ch

men as

the bis hop s c oul d

do things

alien to the

duty

of

their office; secondly, he was reluctant to p ro

nounce an opinion based upon ex

parte

statements ;

thirdly, he

feared that he might do

more

harm

than

good. Compelled at length to notice the points

laid

before

him, he

addressed

himself f i r s t

to

the

most important of

a l l

:

" Can you a p prove the i r r e g u l a r i t y of a c a l l t o the

ministry

when a crowd of

candidates

are

enrolled,

with

out the legitimate

vote

of the

body

of

presbyters,

or the

assignment of

any

parish,

a nd after a

very

s l i g h t exam

ination into t h e i r l i f e a nd morals ; upon whom subse

quently,

a t

the mere good pleasure of the

bishop, authority

i s conferred

to preach

the

Word

of God for a certain

time,

or

simply t o recite the

l i t u r g y

?"

" We reply," says Beza, " that

c a l l s

a nd ordinations of

such

a

kind by no means

a p pear t o us t o be

lawful,

whether we

look

a t the express Word of God

or

the more

pure among the canons. Yet we know that i t i s better

t o

have

something than

nothing.

We pray God with a l l

our hearts

that

He

may grant

t o England a more legitim

a t e c a l l t o the

ministry,

i n default of

which

the

blessing

of the teaching of the truth w i l l surely

be

l o s t

t o

her or

maintained only

i n

some extraordinary a nd

truly heavenly

way. We

must beg the queen

t o

attend

i n

earnest t o t h i s

reform,

a nd

her c ounc il

a nd

the

bishops

t o

further

i t ,



1 5 7 4 ]

The English

Reformation

265

But,

meantime,

what

?

Certainly,

a s

f o r

ourselves,

we

cannot

accept

the

function

of

the

ministry,

even

i f

o f f e r e d ,

i n t h i s

fashion,

much

l e s s

seek i t . Yet those t o

whom

the Lord has

i n

t h i s

manner opened

an

avenue t o

the propagation

of

the

glory

of H is king dom , we

exhort

t o

persevere courageously

i n the

fear

of God ; on t h i s

added condition, however, that they

be

permitted t o d i s

charge their

entire

ministry h o l i l y a nd

r e l i g i o u s l y ,

a nd

consequently

t o propose

and

urge, according t o the

meas

ure

of

t h e i r

o f f i c e ,

such

things

as

tend

t o

the

ameliora

tion of

the condition

of a f f a i r s . For otherwise,

i f t h i s

l i b e r t y be ta ken awa y, a nd they be ordered so t o

connive

a t a manifest abuse, a s even t o approve of what clearly

should be corrected, what

other

advice s h a l l

we give but

that they prefer rather t o be private individuals than con

trary t o

their

conscience t o

favour an e v i l which w i l l

necessarily soon bring

with i t

the utter ruin of the

churches ?

"

On another point about which he had been con

sulted, namely, whether they might not continue to

discharge their

o f f i c e

contrary to

the will

of the

queen and the bishops, Beza replied that he shud

dered at t he t hou gh t, for reasons which needed not

to

be

explained.

The

subject

of

the

vestments

naturally recei ved

attention

and condemnation

at B eza ' s ha nd s .

Yet,

after a long discussion of their nature and tenden

c i e s , when the

question recurred,

What

shall those

do

upon whom thes e thing s

are

thrust ? " he could

not but rep l y tha t they did not seem to him to be

of su ch moment

as

that, on their account,

either

ministers

should

desert

their

ministry

rather

than



266 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

wear

them,

or

the f locks lose their

spiritual

nourish-

ment

rather

than

listen

to

ministers

thus

arrayed.

" But

i f

the

order

i s issued

to

the

ministers,

not

only to endure these things, but approve them as

right

by

their

signatures, or favour them by their

silence,

what

other c ouns el c a n we give than

that,

after testifying their innocence and trying every

remedy i n God's f e a r , they yield

to

open violence

?

"

Such

in sum was the ad vice given

by

the Genevese

Reformer,

not

indeed

without

a

strong

feeling

of

dis

couragement, yet also with the hope, which he ex

pressed

before concluding, that better things might

be in

store

for

a kingdom

whose

reformation

had

been sealed by the blood of so many excellent

martyrs.1

The fortunes

of

Puritanism in England

were

watched

by

Beza

with

interest

that

did

not

diminish

as time

went

on. Less solicitous

with

regard to

details of ritual than with

regard

to the

integrity

of the discipline

of

the Church, he lent his f u l l

sympathy

to the Presbyterian movement. He

honoured and

estimated at

his true

worth

Thomas

Cartwright, that

prince

of

theologians, of

whom

on

one

occasion he

wrote:

The sun, I think, does

not

see

a

more

learned

man.

When

Cartwright,

for his sturdy maintenance of his

views, was de

prived

of his chair as Margaret Professor of Divinity

a t Cambridge University and of his fellowship i n

Trinity

College,

and forbidden

to p r e a ch

or

teach,

he crossed

the

Channel, and at

Geneva was

wel-

1

L e t t e r o f October

2 4 , 1 5 6 7 .

T r a c t , T h e o l „ i i i . , 2 i § - 2 2 i ,

2 Z u r i c h L e t t e r s ,

4 7 9 ,

n o t $ ,



A FRENCH NATIONAL SYNOD I N T H E 1 7 t h

CENTURY.

F R O M

E N G R A V I N G B Y

G . 8 C H 0 U T E N

I N A Y M O N ,

T O U S L E S 8 Y N O D E S .

T H E H A G U E ,

1 7 1 0 .






comed by Beza and his colleagues. Strengthened

by

conference

with

them

and

other

Reformers

of

the

Continent, he

returned

later

to

his native land

in

time to su p port by his voice and vigorous pen the

" Admonition

to

Parliament for the

Reformation

of Church Discipline," which so

infuriated

the oppo

s i t e

party, that

i t s

authors, Field and

Wilcox,

were

consigned to prison

for their audacity. The Gene-

vese

Reformer was

held

responsible

for

a great share

of the changes which i t was sought

to

introduce into

the

government of

the Church

of England. Bishop

Sandys wrote to Gualter at

Zurich

(August

9 , 1574):

" Our

innovators, who

ha v e been striving

to s t r i k e

out

f o r

us

a new

form

of a

church,

are not

doing

us

much

harm

; nor i s

t h i s

new fabric of t h e i r s making such p ro

gress a s they expected. Our nobility are a t l a s t sensible

of

the object

t o

which t h i s novel fabrication

i s

tending.

The author

of these novelties,

a nd

a f t e r

Beza

the

f i r s t

inventor,

i s

a

young

Englishman, by

name Thomas

Cart-

wright, who they say

i s

sojourning a t Heidelberg." 1

Unlike Beza, Bullinger's associate, Gualter, had

l i t t l e sympathy with a movement whose

ulterior

results he suspected, and had

written

to Bishop Cox

a

few

months

e a r l i e r ,

March

1 6 ,

1 5 7 4:

I

greatly

fear there

i s lying

concealed

under

the presbytery

a n

affectation

of oligarchy,

which

may at length

degenerate into monarchy, or even into open

tyranny.

2

1 Zurich L e t t e r s , 4 7 8 , 4 7 9 .

1 I H d . , 4 6 6 .



CHAPTERXV

CONTROVERSIES

AND CONTROVERSIAL

WRITINGS

\

A/E

see, in

his

autobiographical

letter

to

Wol-

V V mar, that Beza

claims

for himself, as a

theologian, l i t t l e or no originality. And,

although

this

letter was written

in 1560,

that i s , very early

in

his literary

career,

and he lived and studied for not

much less than a half-century longer, he would,

doubtless,

have taken no very different

view at

the

end of the

period.

His

theology

was essentially

the

theology

of

his

g reat m a st er ,

John

Calvin.

Ac

cordingly the

leading

doctrines of the system of

Cal vin

were

also most prominent and fundamental

in that of Beza. I f there was any

difference,

these

doctrines

were more

strongly

accentuated by Beza

and more rigidly carried out to their legitimate

consequences. Most of the controversies in which

the

disciple

became involved

arose

therefore in con

nection with the doctrines of the divine sovereignty

and

election,

and with the Reformed view of the

Lord's S u p p e r.

I t

would

manifestly be impossible,

within

the

compass

of the present volume,

to

speak in detail

of a l l the numerous theological disputes in which

Beza took

part

in the c ours e of

his long

l i f e ,

and

of

the

works

from

his

pen

to

which

they

gave

r i s e .



1 5 6 o ] Controversial Writings 269

The greater

number

of the latter

may

be

read

in the

three

large

volumes

of

his

Theological

Treatises

(Tractationes

Theologies),

revised

and

republished

by the author himself in 1582. Since his opponents

were wont to reply, as best they could, to his

arguments, Beza , unwil ling to

leave the l a s t

word

to them, usually rejoined

with

a

defence

of his f i r s t

position. Thus we not infrequently

find two or

even

three treatises

bearing upon

the same

point

and pursuing

the same lines of

thought,

addressed

to the

same antagonist.

I t

will

be remembered that Beza inf orm s us that

the important work to

which

he

prefixed

the letter

to Wolmar was his Confession of the

Christian

Faith,1

composed primarily with the hope

of

gaining

over

his aged

father, by clearing away the calumnies

which

the

enemies

of

the

truth

had

circulated

respecting i t . Subsequently

given

to the

world,

this Confession

took a classical

position and was

recognised, both by friend

and

by foe,

as

an

authori

tative

exposition of

the Reformed

belief.

The

former bought and read

i t ,

especially in the French

language, and circulated i t in many successive edi

tions.

There

are said

to have been

six

French

editions

printed

i n Geneva alone,

within

three

years

of

the original

publication. It was

translated

into

English and Italian. That i t met

with

the anim

adversion of the Roman Catholic Church

i s

not sur

prising: the reading of any

theological

writing of

1 C o n f e s s i o C h r i s t i a n c e F i d e i , e t e j u s d e m C o l l a t i o cum P a p i s t i c i s

H a r e s i b u s . I n

T r a c t .

T h e o l . ,

i . , 1 - 7 9 .

L e t t e r t r a n s l a t e d i n

Ap

p e n d i x

o f

t h i s

v o l u m e .





1 5 5 5 ] Controversial Writings ' 271

of

the Causes of the

Salvation

of the

Elect

and the

Destruction

of

the

Reprobate,

Collected

from

the

Sa cred Scriptures."1 "At the head stands a table

or

diagram, occupying a single page, wherein the

author's conception of the

whole

scheme

of God's

dealings with the human race i s presented to the

eye. This i s followed by a

Brief

Explanation of

the Foregoing Table, covering thirty-five pages

chiefly

taken

up

with proof-texts derived from Holy

Writ, bu t i nt rod uc e d by

sundry

citations from Saint

Augustine,

indicating

that. the

question

about P re

destination i s not a question of

mere

curiosity or of

l i t t l e profit for the Church of

God. This treatise i s ,

i f we except

the defence of the

right

of the magis

trate

to punish heretics, which we have considered

i n a separate

chapter,

the

f i r s t of

Beza's writings

on

religious

topics,

having

been

written

and

published

i n

1555, during

his

professorate

at Lausanne. I t

i s

almost needless

to

remark that i t

closely

reflects the

influence of Calvin.

Ten

years

after

the

Confession and

fifteen

years

after

the Summary appeared (1570) another system

a t i c treatise from Beza's pen, entitled ALittle

Book of

Christian

Questions

and

Answers, in

which

the

Chief

Heads

of

the

Christian

Religion

are

Epi

tomised

(Qucestionutn e t Responsionum

Christian-

arum Libellus,

e t c . ) . 2

I t was subsequently enlarged

and accompanied

by

a Compendious

Catechism.

3

For clearness of exposition this third

treatise,

the

1

Summa

t o t i u s C h r i s t i a n i s m i ,

e t c .

T r a c t . T h e o l . , i . , 1 7 0 - 2 0 5 .

2 I b i d . , i . , 6 5 4 - 6 8 8 .

3

C a t c c h i s m u s

C o m p e n d i a r i u s

.

I b i d . ,

i . ,

6 8 9 - 6 9 4 .





1 5 5 9 ] Controversial Writings 273

But

not

even

so did

Cal vin

or Beza es c a p e attack

from

the

more

ardent

ad vocates

of

the

doctrine

of

Consubstantiation,

and

the scholar

f e l t

himself com

pelled

to

appear in his master's defence as

well

as

his own.

To the

scurrilous

assault

made

by

Joachim

Westphal,

at

Hamburg, he

wrote

a

careful

and,

on

the whole, a more temperate reply than could have

been

expected in

the

circumstances.

I t was

en

titled A

Plain

and Clear

Treatise

Respecting the

Lord 's S up p er,

i n

which

the

Calumnies

of

Joachim

Westphal are Refuted

(1559).1 As Westphal, not

content with

discussing the main

question,

had

raised a hue and c ry agains t the rejection by the

Reformed of

so many

ancient

usages, Beza

answered

i n

defence of their

position

that while themselves

dropping

the

practices

which they disap proved,

they

carefully

refrained

from

condemning

their

brethren who continued to

observe

su ch

practices

when these

related to

things indifferent. But Beza

waxes angry with a holy

indignation when

he comes

to

ad vert

to the gross

and

vituperative language

used by Westphal

as to the witnesses

for

the f a i t h ,

members of the Reformed

Churches

of

France,

burned at

the

stake,

whose

ashes

were even yet

smoking.

" For the i n s u l t s

which

you have not been ashamed t o

vomit forth against the holy martyrs of the Lord, whom

Popish

tyranny i s

daily snatching

from

our

assemblies,

you

w i l l

yourself

see

t o i t how you s h a l l answer

a t the

1 D e c c e n a

Domini

plana e t p e r s p i c u a t r a c t a t i o "

e t c . I b i d . , i . ,

2 1 1 -

2 5 8 .

1 8




Lord's judgment-seat.

Their

writings survive a nd

w i l l

hand down t h e i r blessed

memory, whether you a p prove

of

i t

or not, t o a grateful p o s t e r i t y . In the name of

a l l

Christian

Churches,

I am ashamed that

i n

any Church

there could

be

found a

man

so insolently

wanton a s t o

utter sharp

words

against

those, even when

dead, whom

their very executioners revered while

they

were

dying.

Certainly the Lord w i l l not s u f f e r t o go unavenged

t h i s

more than

inhuman

a nd

barbarous

c r u e l t y . To Him

we

commend

the

cause

of

H is

martyrs."

1

Nor

does Beza leave

unnoticed

the abuse

which

Westphal, at the very same time

that

he complains

of

Calvin's severity,

heaps on

Calvin's

devoted

head, not only accusing him of gluttony and wine-

bibbing,

but hinting

that the Reformer's language,

being f i t

only for

the

ears, of courtesans,

he

had

possibly

learned

from

his

mother,

the

concubine

of

a

parish

priest. We c a n well excuse the

outburst

of indignant remonstrance to which Beza

gives vent,

when he stigmatises,

with d es erv ed

contempt, the

man who,

i n order

to

crush a theological opponent,

accuses the most abstemious

of

men

of

excess,

and exhumes from the grave a respected matron of

a n

honourable

and

noble

family in Noyon, long since

dead,

that

he

may

without

proof

besmirch

her

un

spotted memory.2

To

Westphal

succeeded, i n 1561,

Tilemann

H e s s -

hus, as

a defender of the Lutheran

phase of doc

trine, and as an assailant of the Genevese

church

and

i t s

theologians. That

Beza

regarded

him

as a

1 I b i d . , i . ,

2 5 7 .

1 S e e

i b i d . , i . , 2 5 7 , 2 5 8 .





276 Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

great

ability, but a

C hris tia n tha t

had sacrificed

everything

for

his

f a i t h .

Before

his

adoption

of

Protestantism he had enjoyed wonderful popularity

in

his

native land as a pulpit

orator.

At the a ge of

f i f t y he was the prince of Lenten preachers. The

praise lavished upon

him

by the learned was sur

p a s se d only

by the plaudits

of

the multitudes that

flocked to hear

him whenever i t

was

announced

that

he would

speak.

I f Cardinal Bembo, a leading

scholar of the period,

wrote

to

Colonna, in

March,

1539,

that

he

had

never discoursed with

a

person of

greater sanctity, and that he intended not to miss

a single one of his

beautiful, solemn,

and

edifying

discourses," the

next

month he was informing the

same correspondent that, at Venice, from which he

wrote, Ochino was " l i t e r a l l y adored,

there

was

no

one

that

did

not

praise

him

to

the

skies."

1

Twice was he elected Vicar General of the Capu

chin Order, and

so

well did he stand

with

the Holy

See

that his nomination was cheerfully confirmed

by the Po pe . But Ochino was becoming more and

more

evangelical

in

his preaching,

as the

Roman

Church

became

more

and more

pronounced

in

i t s

opposition to any form of

reformation.

The inevit

able

logic

of

his

recognition

of

the

doctrine

of

Justi

fication

by Faith

led

him out

of

the

establishment

i n which he held so high and influential a position,

to the lands

beyond

the

Alps where

he could give

free expression to his new convictions. He did not

hesitate

to take a step which involved the loss of

a l l things that

men prize .highest—ank, ease, the

1

Karl

B e n r a t h ,

Bernardino

O c h i n o

( E n g .

t r a n s . ) , 1 6 ,




esteem of the multitude. He fled f i r s t to

Switzer

land.

The

autumn of

the

year

1 5 4 2

found

him

in

Geneva,

" a n ol d man of

venerable

ap pearance,

ac

cording

to Calvin, and one who was greatly

re

spected

in his own country." He was

warmly

welcomed by the Genevan Reformers, and he, in his

turn, delighted with the order, purity,

and

si m p le

worship which he witnessed, poured out an en

comium

upon the city

and i t s

usages

which I

should

be glad, were there s p a c e here, to reproduce.1

From

this time forth he

lived an

exemplary and use

f u l

l i f e as a

Protestant

and a Protestant

minister.

When he l e f t

Geneva,

at the end of three years,

he

went p r ov id ed wit h a letter

of special

recom

mendation

from Calvin. He was

well

received

by Bucer at Strassburg.

At

Augsburg he

became

by

public

appointment

Italian

preacher

to

his

com

patriots

residing

in

that city. Compelled to

f l e e , in

1547,

on the approach of the Emperor

Charles

V.,

one of the

f i r s t of

whose

demands

was that the city

should

surrender to him the person

of Bernardino

Ochino, he was that same year inv ited to England

by

Cranmer,

shortly after the accession of

Edward

VI. The six years of that estimable prince's reign

were

s pent

by

Ochino

in

labours

for

his

countrymen

sojourning in London

whether

for mercantile pur

poses

or as exiles for

religion's

sake.

Meanwhile

he was made non-resident

prebendary

of Canter

bury. When Mary came to the

throne, Ochino

hastily

retired

to the Continent, and for ten

years

( 1 5 53- 1 5 63) , or until within about a year of his

1

T r a n s l a t e d

from

h i s

sermons

i n

B e n r a t h ,

1 4 8 .




death, he lived

i n

Switzerland,

f i r s t at

Geneva,

and

afterwards

at

Basel

and

Zurich.

At

Zurich

he

ac

ce pted the o f f i c e of m inis ter to Italian Protestants

from Locarno. Unfortunately, in this period of

his l i f e , Ochino developed a

tendency to

indulge in

curious speculations,

for

a

f u l l discussion of which

the reader must look elsewhere. Suffice i t to s ay

here that,

in

a book

which he

wrote,

not so

much

by direct

assertion

as

by

inference,

the soundness

of

the

aged

author

was brought

into suspicion.

I f ,

for the most part,

he seemed

i n the d ia l og ue

him

s e l f to

assume the

defence

of the

current

belief and

l e f t the attack to another, yet, with an impartiality

c arried to the extreme

of complaisance, he

lent such

cogency to the arguments of his

opponents

as to

lay

himself

open to the charge of a virtual surrender

of

principles

and

beliefs

that

should

have

been

dear

to him.

Thus his belief

in the

divinity

of

Jesus

Christ and

His

equality with the Father naturally

becomes in the judgment of the reader more than

doubtful. The great problems affecting

man

and

his destiny, divine grace and human ability, and

a l l

the views

and

theories that have

troubled

the

ages,

are presented

in so antithetical a

manner, and

the

arguments

in

favour

and

in

opposition

are mar

shalled

in such

a formidable

array,

that the decision

i s veiled in uncertainty. Of

such

contests the

natural

issue

i s

in doubt, i f not in positive despair

of the attainment of certainty in matters of

religion.

Nor

indeed

i n

matters of faith alone. Ochino ex

hibited

the same

method

in the

treatment of

moral

questions. In setting

forth

the

reasons

in favour of



1 5 6 3 ] Controversial

Writings 279

polygamy and in condemnation of i t , he l e f t the

f i n a l

decision

in

su ch

sus pense

that

the

answer

to

the

question whether, in certain cases, an

individual

man might or should marry a second

wife

during

the lifetime of a

f i r s t

wife was referred to that

man's

own decision acting under the inspiration of God.

I f ,

after prayer to the Almighty for the grace of

continence, the

g i f t

i s not received, Ochino's u l t i

mate

counsel

to

him

i s

to

do

whatever

God

prompts

him to do, i f only he knows for certain

that God

i s

prompting

him ;

for

whatever i s

done

by divine

inspiration cannot be s i n . 1

That the Swiss Reformers, Bullinger, Beza, and a l l

the others, should

have

been shocked,

amazed,

in

dignant, at the promulgation of s u ch views by a

professed adherent of the Reformation, i s not sur

prising.

Nor

i s

i t

surprising

that

Beza

regarded

the

l a s t

.matter mentioned as of

s u ch

vital

import

a n ce that he published, in refutation of Ochino's

views,

his

two

treatises

On

Polygamy and

On

Repudiation and

Divorce, extracted from his

lec

tures on the

First

Epistle

to

the Corinthians.2

That Beza

styled him an

impure apostate

may

be

explained,

i f i t may

not be excused, by the fact

that the whole trend of Ochino's

disputations

was

directly

to that academic uncertainty "

respecting

a l l

truth which the Reformers regarded as more p er

nicious than any s ingl e error of d oc trine, s inc e i t

sapped the foundations

of a l l

religion.

But

i t

was

certainly

not to the credit of the Protestant Reform

e r s , especially those of Zurich and Basel, that i n

1

B s n r a t h ,

a 6 8 ,

f o i l ,

. s

T r a c t ,

T h i o l , ,

i i . ,

1 - 1 0 9 .



280 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

0

their

detestation of the

utterances

of their misguided

brother,

long

their

associate

in

Christian

work

and

the object of their Christian affection, they

forgot

the

p a st

too

completely,

and

sanctioned, i f they

did

not urge, the severe punishment which the magis

trates dealt out to

Ochino, without

allowing him to

be heard in his own defence, or in explanation of

books

written, not

in

the v erna cul ar for circulation

among the people,

but in

a foreign tongue for the

consideration of t he l ea rned and

curious.

The

c i r

cumstance that

Sebastian Castalio

had acted as his

translator

aggravated the resentment of the

indig

nant Zurichers

at having ignorantly harboured for

so

long

a time in their city a

disloyal Protestant,

in

one

whom

they had known

only

as a brother in the

f a i t h . Old

and

infirm—e was

i n

the seventy-sixth

or

seventy-seventh

year

of

his

age,

—

he

venerable

man

whom

a l l

had so lately united in honouring for

his p a st

services was

in

midwinter bidden to

de part

from the city

and jurisdiction

of

Zurich,

in

company

with his four children, within

a

term

of a fortnight

o r , at furthest, three weeks. Basel would not long re

ceive h im , M ii lha us en refused him a

refuge,

Nurem

berg

consented only to

his

p assing the

winter

there.

From

Poland he

was

expelled

with

a l l

foreigners

not

Roman

Catholics. He died of the p l a g u e at Schlac-

kau

in Moravia,

in

the

latter

part

of

the

year

1564.1

Respecting the

bodily

presence of our Lord in the

Eucharist, Beza continued to

be

drawn into contro

versies, reaching through

many years, partly with

Roman Catholics,

partly

with

fellow-Protestants,

1

g e n r a t h ,

2 9 7 ,




Among the

former

the

most

prominent was the

white

f r i a r ,

Claude

de

Sainctes,

whom

he

had

en

countered at the third s es sion of the Colloquy of

Poissy. I t

was Claude

who

had

on that occasion

made the astounding assertion that tradition stands

on

more

stable

foundation than do the

Holy Script

ures themselves, inasmuch as the latter c a n be

dragged hither and thither by a

variety

of

interpre

tations.1

He

showed

no

more

wit

in

the

treatise

which he brought out,

f i v e

or six

years

l a t e r , under

the t i t l e , An Examination of the

Calvinistic

and

Bezc ea n D oc trine of

the

Lord's

Sup per.

The au

thor's crudity would seem to have warranted Beza's

somewhat contemptuous

designation

of him as

a

"

theologaster.

"

De

Sainctes

had aimed

at

c urrying f av our with his patron, the Ca rdinal of

Lorraine,

by

reinforcing

the

prelate's

peculiar

at

tempt to

confound' or win over

Beza and his

com

panions at the grea t c ol loquy. The cardinal's

strength

did not

l i e

in the

breadth

or

depth of

his

theological

acquisitions; but he certainly had no

lack of cunning.

I f ,

he

thought,

the Calvinists

coul d not

be

silenced by argument, at least

their

cause would be prejudiced i f , i n any way, they

could

be

set by

the

ears with their fellow-Protest

ants from beyond the Rhine.

In his written attack,

Claude

de Sainctes, reviving

his

patron's

tactics,

endeavoured to

establish

that

a

difference

of theological views

separated Geneva

from the neighbouring cantons of

Switzerland,

while

there was a fundamental contradiction, amounting

1

Jean

d e

S e r r e s ,

Qm,

4 (

< <

» m

3 1 5 .




to real

enmity,

between the Calvinists

and

the Lu

therans.

Whereupon

Beza reminded

the

f r i a r

that

his

contention did not possess even t he m eri t of novelty.

" Have you forgotten, Claude," he s a i d , " the answer

I gave

t o

your cardinal,

i n

that

more

absurd than serious

skirmish

of h i s ,

a t

a time when

he

wa s devising the very

same assault that

you are

now

making? Drawing from

h i s bosom a p a per which he a t f i r s t pretended t o be the

Confession

of

Aug sburg , but

which

was

i n r e a l i t y , a s

subsequently appeared, a copy of a private confession of

a certain one of the

Wittenberg theologians,

recently

brought t o him

by

one

Rascalo, h i s spy,

without

t h e i r

knowledge,

the cardinal

inquired of

me whether we

would give our assent t o i t .

In

t u r n ,

I

asked him t o t e l l

me

whether

he

himself

assented t o i t .

Startled by my

unexpected r e p l y , he frankly admitted

that

he

could

not

do

s o .

Thereupon I retorted : ' What a f f a i r

i s

i t ,

then, of

yours

whether we agree with them or no, since you

dissent

from us both

?

And y e t , l e s t

you s houl d s up p os e that I

am seeking t o evade the

question, I

w i l l t e l l

you that

we

regard those whom y o i l c a l l " Protestants " a s our very

dear brethren—

hat

we disagree with the Augsburg Con

fession on only

a

very few points—nd that these very

points

themselves,

suitably interpreted, could e a s i l y be

reconciled, did not the unreasonableness of certain p er

sons stand

i n

the way.'

This i s

what I said

on

that oc

casion. I do not

imagine

that you

have forgotten

my

words. For t h i s

reason I

should be the more

astonished

that

you have

now

undertaken the

same

plan, were i t not

that the whole world has come t o understand what i s

your sense of

shame,

what

your conscience," 1

1

Tw(,

T h e o l . ,

i i . ,

3 8 9 ,





284 Theodore

Beza [ I 5 i g -

bosom of Protestantism i t s e l f , were the controversies

with

representatives

of

the

dominant

p h a s e

of

the

theology of

Germany.

I am glad

that the s co pe of

this work i s

such

that I am not compelled to r e ,

hearse in detail

the mournful story of the manner

in which the divergence of views already subsisting

became more and more pronounced, and a mere

d if ferenc e of

theory

led

to

a

separation, a

schism,

almost to a positive hatred, between

men

who

should

have

loved

and

respected

each

other

as

members

of one

Christian

host

arrayed against

one

common enemy.

What were Beza's feelings

toward

the Lutherans

we have already seen.

What he

said to the

Cardi

nal

of

Lorraine at the

Colloquy

of Poissy was the

sincere

sentiment

of

his heart,—hey were his

very

dear

brethren

in

Christ. That

there

were

differ

ences between

their

views on the mode of Christ' s

presence

in the Sacrament and res pecting the alleged

ubiquity

of

His human

body,

he did not affect

to

deny. But he was d is p osed , ins tea d of magnifying

these differences, to reduce them to the smallest

possible

dimensions. His manly honesty did

not

allow

him,

indeed,

to

abstain from strenuously main

taining

the

truth, as

he

conceived

i t

to

be,

against

every successive opponent, but this loyalty to prin

ciple

did

not

prevent

him from

sincerely desiring,

what was

also the sincere desire of

Philip Melanch-

thon, especially in his later years, that a cordial and

charitable

union might be

effected between the two

great branches

of the Church of the Reformation.

But

that

friend

of

concord

was

no

more,

and

the



I 5 8 6 ] Controversial Writings 285

loss to

Christendom

by his removal

by death

was

in

Beza's

view

irreparable.

Scarcely

had

five

years

elapsed

when

the latter wrote

to

the brethren of

Bern

and Zurich

that the

enemy

were now

hoping

to effect their designs

with much

g reater ea s e than

hitherto because

now,

as never before, they would

have the Papists as a l l i e s in the condemnation

of

the

Reformed, and because

no Melanchthon

sur

vived to restrain them by his great authority." 1 I t

i s a thousand-fold to be deplored

that

his advances

toward

conciliation were

not responded

to with

a

cor

responding cordiality, but met with coldness when

they did not

c a l l

forth

an

absolute

denial

of the

fraternal

bond. The latter was the case at the

conclusion of the

conference

held at Montbeliard,

i n

March, 1586. The

excellent

Count Frederick of

Wiirtemberg,

under

whose

ausp ices the

gathering

of

theologians

was held, was

an

ardent lover

of

p e a c e

and leaned

to the Reformed views.

Beza,

now a n ol d man, had not, in his zeal for union,

hesitated to come in

person and endeavour to find

the common

ground

upon

which

he was

convinced

that Calvinists

and Lutherans

could

honourably

stand without sacrifice of dignity or principle. But

the

attitude

of

Andreas,

the

chief

representative

of

the other

side,

was unconciliatory,

and,

at the end

of the discussion, the two parties were farther apart

than

they

were

at

i t s

commencement.

In

vain

had

i t been made clear to every impartial

man

that the

two great wings of the P rotes ta nt Church

were

prac-

1

I n e d i t e d

l e t t e r o f Beza t o

t h e

B e r n e s e and Z u r i c h o i s , D e c . 1 4 ,

1 5 6 5 .

Copy

i n

Baurn

C o l l e c t i o n , L ib ,

o f

F r ,

P r o t ,

H i s t .

Soc,

P a r i s ,




tically in complete accord as against the Church of

Rome.

When,

the

conference

over,

Beza

offered

his

right hand

i n token of

love

and confidence to

the man with whom the argument had been

chiefly

sustained, Andreae declined to take i t . He could

as

l i t t l e

see, he

said,

how

Beza was able

to

esteem

him and the other

Wiirtemberg

theologians, to

whom he had imputed

a l l

sorts of errors, as brethren,

as he

himself

could

recognise

fraternal communion

with

Beza,

who

had

shown

that

he

held

the

imagin

a tions of men above the Word of God. But while

he coul d not greet

him

as a brother, Andreae was

pleased to offer him his hand as a

fellow-man.

Beza,

however, promptly rejected the ostentatious mark

of

condescension.1

1

The Huguenots and Henry of Navarre, i . , 4 0 1 .



CHAPTER

XVI

BEZA AND THE HUGUENOT PSALTER

IT

ha s

frequently

been

said

that to

Beza

the

world

i s indebted,

i f

not

for

the

whole

of the

Hugue

not liturgy

for

the Lord's Day service, at least

for

the beautiful confession of sins and prayer that con

stitute i t s most

striking feature.

I t

ha s

been

asserted

that this si m p le but grand formula was taken from

the extemporaneous words used by the Reformer at

the beginning of his historical defence of the Re

formed

Churches and

their

doctrine

at the Colloquy

of Poissy, without doubt the most picturesque and

i mp r es s iv e s c en e not only in the l i f e of Beza him

s e l f ,

but in

the

early

period of the

French

Reforma

tion. We

have seen,

however, that

the

story i s

a

pleasing f i c t i o n , and that the confession of s i n s , so

far from being uttered for the f i r s t time

before

the

august

assembly

that

met

in

the

nuns'

refectory

of

Poissy, had before then been repeatedly on the l i p s

of

martyrs

at the

stake, nay,

that for nearly twenty

years

i t

had been

a component

part

of Protestant

worship, both when secretly and when

openly

cele

brated, at Strassburg, at Geneva, and i n a multitude

of places in France. Composed and used for several

yea rs bef ore Theodore

Beza

fully

broke with

the

2 8 7



288

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 i c

Church

of Rome, that liturgy had for

i t s author

not

the

young

student

from

Vezelay,

but

John

Calvin

himself.

But Beza rendered to Huguenot devotion a serv

ic e not less notable in another direction. The

worship

of

God's house

could

have

been

conducted

in an orderly and impressive manner and with un

diminished fervour without

Calvin's

liturgy

at a l l

;

but de prived of the

metrical* psalms

the worship

would

have

lost

i t s

most

characteristic

feature.

Without those p s a l ms ,

too,

the very history of the

Huguenots, c i v i l as

well

as religious, would have

been robbed of a g rea t p a rt of i t s

individuality.

In

the

long

conflict

that arose

out

of

the effort to

crush

the

Protestant

doctrines and their professors

i n

France, from the f i r s t

outbreak

of

c i v i l

war

i n

the middle of the sixteenth

century

down to the

Revocation

of the E d i ct of

Nantes

in the

seven

teenth,

and

indeed far beyond

that

time,

when the

Reformed

faith was supposed to

have

been annihi

lated, the psalms were the badge by which the

Huguenots were

recognised by

friend and

foe alike,

they were the stimulus of the brave, the battle-cry

of

the

combatant,

the l a s t consolatory words

whis

pered

i n

the

ears of

the

dying.

Now the French

psalms

were

peculiarly

the

work

of

Theodore Beza.

True, indeed,

i t

i s

that

the

collection

bears and

ha s always borne the joint names of Clement Marot

and

Theodore de Beze,

and that

i t was the success

of

the brilliant and versatile poet of the Renaissance i n

his

attempts to turn the

psalms of

David

into

French



CLEMENT MAROT.

F R O M A P A I N T I N G B Y C A R L O N E .





1 5 6 2 ]

The Huguenot Psalter

289

verse that led Beza

to follow

his

example.

But

what had

been

approached

by

the

former,

i t

would

seem, mainly as a literary task, aiming f i r s t of a l l at

the gratification of the

reader,

was

with

the lalter a

labour

of

love and

an attempt

to achieve for the

cause

to which he had

devoted

his

l i f e

the

most

noble of works. For

i t

c a n hardly be denied that

efforts which

give

to pious thought

the most

appro

priate vehicle

for i t s

expression f a l l

short

of

no

other

human

ambitions

in

usefulness

and

dignity.

I t may be admitted from the start that in native

poetical genius Beza

f a l l s

distinctly

below

Marot.

The verdict of the literary world on this point i s not

likely

to

be reversed. In any production of a kind

demanding

the exerc is e of a

lively imagination, on

any subject where the light

touch

of a master in the

graceful expression of thought i s of the f i r s t import

ance, there c a n

be

no question that his countrymen

would give the

palm

to the poet

whose days

were

s pent in the court and i n the frivolous circles of the

great. Yet

i t

i s

not

unreasonable

to look

for a

more

adequate

treatment of

religious themes at the

hands

of a writer i n f u l l and lasting sympathy with their

high truths than

at

the

hands

of

a poet whose

re

ligious

feelings

are

either

shallow

or

evanescent.

As

Beza could enter more easily than Marot into the

devotional

s p i r i t

of

the

Hebrew

original,

so

there are

p s a l m s or parts of

psalms

which have

been

rendered

by

him with

a dignity

approaching

to grandeur,

with

a

dignity

which

the most prejudiced c r i t i c

must

confess

i s unsurpassed i n anything from the pen

of

Marot.

Among

these psalms stands prominent the

sixty

1 9



290

Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i g -

eighth, of which the i n i t i a l stanza of twelve

lines

deserves,

more

than

any

other

passage,

to

be

regarded as the choicest jewel of the entire collec

tion— worthy introduction to the psalm which

stands unchallenged a s , above a l l

the

r e s t ,

the

Huguenot battle-song. Sung at the charge at many

an

encounter of the period when the

Huguenots

were at

their strongest, i t

i s no l e s s associated i n

every line with those humbler but scarcely less

glorious

and

equally

heroic

conflicts

when,

i n

the

Camisard

war of the

eighteenth century,

the Child

ren of God, as they styled themselves,

having

survived the

supposed

overthrow

of

their religion,

dared

defy the arms of

Louis

XIV.

I t was

in the year

1533,

apparently,

that

the f i r s t

of Clement Marot's translated psalms appeared in

print,

appended

to

the

former

part of that curious

work

of

the

Duchess of

Alencon,

only

sister

of

Francis I . , entitled Miroir

de

tres chrestienne prin-

cesse Marguerite

de

France. This was the sixth

psalm of

D a v i d , whose

plaintive

c ry was admirably

reproduced

in the opening

verses,

Ne vueilles pas,

O Sire," e t c . 1

S ix years

later came

out

at Strassburg what

ha s

been

styled

the

f i r s t

ed ition of

the

Protestant

psal

t e r , containing twelve new psalms translated by

Marot, but

strangely

enough

omitting the

sixth,

with

which the editor or publisher seems not to

have been acquainted." Two

years

more

passed,

and i n

1

541 there appeared

with

the im p rint of

An-

1 O . Douen, C l e m e n t Marot e t l e P s a u t i e r h u g u e n o t ,

i i . ,

5 0 5 .

8 I b i d . , i . , 3 0 2 .



1 5 4 3 ]

The Huguenot

Psalter 291

vers

(Antwerp)

a fuller collection

of thirty

psalms

translated

by

Marot.1

Finally,

i n

1543,

there

was

given

to the world by Marot the entire collection of

f i f t y p s a l ms ,

with

which his activity in this direction

closed,

together

with

the Song of Simeon

and

the

Ten Commandments, as

well

as one or two versifica

tions s u ch as the Angelic Salutation, which

never

found

a permanent

p l a ce in the

Protestant psalter.3

I t was to this p ubli cation that the poet prefixed the

poetical

' ' Letter

Addressed

to the

Ladies

of

France

'

'

which he had recently written to per su a de his f a i r

readers to s ubs titute for the songs of love, always

worldly and often

foul,

with which their abodes re

sound, songs of quite another strain ; yet songs of

Love alone,

their

author

very Love, composing

them by His supreme

wisdom (while vain man ha s

been

but

the

mere

writer),

and

having

conferred

language and voice to sing

His

own high praises.

Blessed be

-he,

exclaims the

poet,

that shall

live

to

see that golden

a ge when

God alone shall

be

adored, praised, and sung, and when the l a bourer at

his p l oug h, the teamster on the road, and the artisan

i n his shop

shall

lighten

their t o i l

by a psalm

or

'

I b i d . ,

i . ,

3 1 5 .

2

According

t o Douen ( i . ,

4 1 3 ) , t h e

A n g e l i c S a l u t a t i o n

was

i n s e r t e d

i n some e d i t i o n s

o f

t h e Huguenot p s a l t e r p u b l i s h e d i n F r a n c e ,

e v e n

a f t e r

t h e

V e n e r a b l e

C o n s i s t o r y

o f

t h e Church

o f

G e n e v a , d o u b t l e s s

j e a l o u s o f

t h e w o r s h i p

o f

t h e

V i r g i n

Mary

s o i n t i m a t e l y

a s s o c i a t e d

w i t h t h e u s e o f t h e " Av e Maria" i n t h e Church o f Rome, had o r

d e r e d i t s

r e m o v a l

from

t h e book

c o n t a i n i n g

t h e

p s a l m s

and

e c c l e s i

a s t i c a l p r a y e r s . Marot p r o t e s t e d w i t h o u t a v a i l

t h a t ,

t h e S a l u t a t i o n

b e i n g a p a r t o f Holy W r i t , t h e s u p p r e s s i o n seemed t o p l a c e

t h e

C o n s i s t o r y ' s

a u t h o r i t y

above

t h e

a u t h o r i t y

o f t h e

Word

o f

God.




hymn ; happy he that

shall

hear the shepherd and

the

shepherdess

in

the

wood make

rocks

and

lakes

echo and repeat after them the

holy name

of their

Creator. The whole was summed up in the clos

ing inj unc tion

thus

to

ha sten the coming

of

the

golden

age.

The poem,

i f

i t

does

not p ro ve that i t s

author

was a

true Huguenot at heart, a

Protestant by deep

conviction, at least furnishes evidence that he was

not

devoid

at

times

of

genuine

religious

feeling.1

Clement

Marot

died at

Turin

in the summer of

1544. After a l i f e of singular variety, in which his

unconcealed aversion to the

Roman

Catholic Church

had exposed

him to danger

and

imprisonment in

France, and led him to sojourn at the court of Duch

ess Renee at Ferrara, and for a time in

Venice,

he

s pent

a

l i t t l e

over

a

year

in

Geneva.

Not

only

did

he

f r equent ly con f er

with Cal vin

on

the matter of

the translation of the p s al ms , but the great Reformer

himself recommended the council of the city

to

employ him

at

public expense in completing the

work. The council rejected the application, and

Marot withdrew from Geneva. That he was com

pelled

to do s o ,

having been found guilty

of

adul

tery

and

e sc a p i ng on ly

through

Calvin's

intercession,

seems to be a pure fabrication of the royal historio

grapher Cayet, who, having from Protestant turned

Roman Catholic, was not unwilling to circulate

stories of the kind

against

the poet who had at

tacked his newly

espoused

f a i t h . For the fact

i s

that no record of

any

proceedings against Marot

ha s

3 9 6 - 3 9 8 -



1 5 5 2 ] The Huguenot Psalter

293

been found on the Genevese registers, while, on the

other

hand,

i t

i s

known

that

the

penalty

for

the

crime of adultery

had not

as

yet been fixed at

death,

and was not so fixed until sixteen years

after

Marot's

death.1

At

Clement Marot's

death

the Protestants

had a n

incomplete psalter, consisting of barely one third of

the whole number of ps alm s , and these not

continu

ous,

but

with

certain

gaps.

A

writer

uniting the

requisites of a faithful translator to those of a poet

by nature

i t

was not easy

to

f i n d .

Marot

had no

rival during his

lifetime, nor

had he his equal

among the p oets that survived him

;

but i t was

natural that, under the circumstances, the eyes of

Calvin and of others

should

turn to Beza. The

fuvenilia,

written

and published before his con

version,

had

long

since

proved

him to

possess

high

literary a b i l i t i e s .

He was himself anxious to show

that these abilities

could

be employed to better p ur

p os e tha n

when

the ambition

to

rival Ovid and

Catullus reigned supreme in

his breast. Accord

ingly, within about two years from the date of his

reaching

Lausanne,

that i s , in 1 551, we find Beza

publishing

a

separate collection of thirty-four

p s alm s.

Ayear later he republished these in connection with

forty-nine of those which Marot had translated.

With these

eighty-three psalms

the Protestant psal

ter was more

than

half -way on toward

completion.

I t was appropriate that Beza, in imitation of Marot,

should

now

provide

i t

with

a p oetic

letter

dedica

tory. Marot had dedicated his

psalms

to his patron,

1

I b i d . ,

i . ,

4 1 6 .



294

Theodore Beza

Osig-

Francis I .

, and had

written to the

' '

Ladies'

'

of France

to

incite

them

to sing

these

in

lieu

of

worldly

songs.

Beza addressed the

epistle

which he

p l a c e d

at the

head

of his work to

The Church

of

our Lord,

the " l i t t l e

flock"

which

i n i t s littleness surpasses

the greatness of the world, the

l i t t l e

flock held

i n

contempt by this round

globe

and yet i t s only treas

ure. " The choice

of

Beza was the better, and

he

made

of

his

address, regarded by some writers not

without reason as his masterpiece, so excellent an

introduction to the psalms that for centuries i t con

tinued

to hold

i t s

p l ace

even

when the circumstances

to which i t made reference had long since f aded

from the memory of the majority of the faithful

who used the

collection

in

their devotions.

The exordium i s calm i n

i t s quiet

strength.

" P e t i t Troupeau, q u i e n t a p e t i t e s s e

Vas

surmontant du

monde

l a

h a u t e s s e

;

P e t i t Troupeau, l e m e s p r i s de c e monde,

Et

s e u l t h r e s o r d e l a

machine r o n d e ;

Tu e s c e l u i

a u q u e l g i s t

mon

c o u r a g e ,

Pour t e

donner

c e

mien

p e t i t

o u v r a g e :

P e t i t , j e d i ,

e n c e

q u i

e s t

d u m ien

:

Mais a u s u r p l u s s i g r a n d ,

q u ' i l

n ' y

a

r i e n

A s s e z e x q u i s

e n t o u t c e s t u n i v e r s ,

Pour

e s g a l e r

un moindre

de

c e s

v e r s .

V o i l a

p o u r q u o i

c h o s e

t a n t

e x c e l l e n t e

A

t o i ,

s u r t o u t e x c e l l e n t ,

j e p r e s e n t e . "

Let kings and princes, clothed i n gold and s i l v e r ,

but not in virtues, stand

back.

With them lying

flatterers

f i l l their

pages. They are not addressed

here.

Not that

they

are not

spoken

to; but they

have

neither

ears to hear,

nor

heart

to

learn

the



1 5 5 i ] The Huguenot Psalter 295

message.

The poem

i s

for thos e other true kings

and

true

princes,

worthy

to

possess

realms

and

p ro

vinces, potentates

who beneath the shadow of their

wings defend the l i f e of many a poor believer. Let

them hear

the

enc ha nt ing ha rp of

the great D a v i d ,

and being kings hearken to the voice of a king.

Let shepherds

listen

to

a

shepherd's

p i p e which

God

Himself was pleased to

sound.

Let the

sheep

catch the divine music which communicates both

joy

and

healing.

Do

they

mourn

?

They

shall

be

comforted. Do they hunger ? They shall be f i l l e d .

Do

they

endure

suffering

?

They

shall

be

re

lieved.

The

poet was writing, as I

have

said, in 1

55

1 ,

that i s ,

in the

mi d st

of the

persecutions

under

Henry I I . That

very year

the

monarch published

a

terrible

l a w

against

the

Protestants

of

his

realm.

The E di c t of Chateaubriand, of June 27, 1 5 5 1 , we

have already seen,1

sent

the new heretics straight to

the flames on the

mere

sentence of an ordinary

judge, and cut o f f a l l right of appeal. Nor was

Geneva

forgotten

by the legislator. As Cal vin re

marked, that city

was honoured

with

a mention

i n

the ordinance more than ten times. The importa

tion

of

books

of

any

kind

from Geneva,

and

from

other places well known to be in rebellion against

the P a p a c y , was prohibited

under severe

penalties.

So was also

the retention by booksellers

of any

con

demned book, as well as clandestine publications in

any shape. Every printing establishment was now

subjected to a visitation twice a year. The great

1

S * $ r < * x

7 « ,




f a i r s

of

Lyons were searched three times a year,

because i t

had

been

discovered

that

many suspected

books were introduced into

France

by that channel.

In

fact a l l book

packages

from abroad were

to be

examined

by the

clergy,

before their content s could

be p ut into circulation. Book-peddling was utterly

forbidden, on the ground that peddlers from Geneva

smuggled books

into

France

under cover of

dispos

ing of other merchandise. I t became a punishable

offence to be the

bearer

of a simp le letter from

Geneva.

To

have fled thither was sufficient

to

lead

to confiscation of property, and the informer was

promised one third of the forfeited

goods.

So re

solved was the king to

extinguish P rotest antism

once for a l l , that

a l l si m p le

folk

were warned

not

even to d is cus s

matters

of

f a i t h ,

the sacraments, and

the

government

of

the

Church,

at

table, in

the

f i e l d s ,

or

i n

the secret meeting.1

Would

i t have been surprising,

when Geneva

was

thus singled out for special hostility by the

malice

of

Henry I I . , had Beza, in his general view of the

enemies

of the l i t t l e flock," noticed with peculiar

execration the king of his

native

land? Yet, while

the

Pope naturally

comes in

for

mention,

as

the

wolf that

wears

the

triple

crown,

surrounded

by

other beasts of his kind," the poet prefers to c a l l

attention

among

monarchs

only

to the good King

Edward VI., of England,

hospitably greeting on

the

shores

of his insular domain the fugitives that

have

es ca pe d

the

f i r e s

of

persecution.

For

him he

prays that,

as i n his youth he ha s a l rea d y s ur p a ss ed

1

g e e R i s e

of

t h e

Huguenots,

i . ,

2 7 9 - 2 8 1 ,



1 5 5 i ] The

Huguenot

Psalter 297

a l l other

kings, so in his

advancing

years he

may

surpass

even

himself:

"

Que Dieu

t e

d o i n t ,

O

Roy

q u i

e n e n f a n c e

As surmonte d e s p l u s g r a n d s l ' e s p e r a n c e ,

C r o i s s a n s

t e s a n s , s i

b i e n

c r o i s t r e e n s e s g r a c e s ,

Q u ' a p r e s t o u s R o i s t o i - m e s m e t u s u r p a s s e . "

But the poet's thoughts turned by preference to

the victims of persecution with whom the prisons

of

France were

overflowing.

To

these

sufferers,

Beza's words were words of encouragement to

patience

and endurance in the profession of their

f a i t h ,

with the

l i p s ,

i f

s pee ch

was

allowed them,

i f

not,

l e t

courage

s u p p l y

a testimony which the

tongue was not p erm itted to

give.

After which

the

poet

enforces his injunction with a couplet that

seems to anticipate by ten years the famous warn

ing

which this

same

Beza

made

to

the

recreant

King of

Navarre,

to the effect that the Church

of

God i s indeed an anvil to

receive

and not

strike

blows, but a n

anvil

that ha s worn out many

ham

mers.1

Let

persecutors, he

says,

t i r e of murdering

God's children sooner

than

the latter t i r e of

with

standing the a ss aul ts of His enemies:

"

Que

l e s

t y r a n s

s o y e n t

d e

nous

m a r t y r e r

P l u s t o s t l a s s e z [ l a s s e s ] ,

que

nous d e 1 ' e n d u r e r . "

The remainder of the

Epistle to

the Church of

our

Lord

"

need

not d eta in us

long.

In

order that

no

one should

have

an

excuse for

not

singing God's

praise, Marot, says Beza, turned into French the

psalms

once

written by

D a v i d , but,

alas died

when

1

S e e

a b o v e ,

2 0 § ,



2gS Theodore

Beza

[ i s l 9 -

he

had completed only one third of his ta sk.

What

was

worse,

he

died

leaving

no

one

i n

the

world,

no

learned

poet,

to

continue his

labours. This

was the

reason

that

when d ea th s na tc hed him away, with

him David also was s i l e n t , for a l l the best minds

feared to try their hands at the task which a Marot

had

undertaken. What,

then,

someone

will

say,

makes you

so brave as

to

attempt so grave a

work

?

To

which

question

Beza

replies by pleading

his

own

consciousness

that

his

powers f a l l far

short

of

his

good-will, and by promising to applaud the

efforts

of those whom he would incite to enter upon the

same office and perform i t in a manner more worthy

of

i t s great

imp orta nce. In

conclusion, as Clement

Marot had

begged

the

Ladies

to cease

singing

of

C u p i d ,

the

winged

god of love," and give

themselves

to

the

celebration

of

the

true,

the

Divine

Love, so Beza challenges the p oets of his time,

those

minds of heavenly birth," to turn from the

low subjects

of their

songs

to themes

of

higher

merit. Let the time p a st

suffice

to

have followed

s uch vain inventions,

and

objects of adoration which

shall perish with

the

works of

their

adorers.

But

whatever

others

may

conclude to do, the poet

de

clares that,

insignificant as

he

i s ,

he

will

celebrate

the praises of his God. The mountains and the

f i e l d s shall be witnesses, t he s hore s of the lake

shall

repeat, the Alps shall take up the cry in the clouds.

We

have

seen

that in 1551

Beza

had added only

thirty-four

psalms

to those translated by Marot, and

t h , a t

the united

collection

comprised

but

eighty



1 5 6 a ] The Huguenot Psalter 299

three. Eleven years

more p a s se d before

the Gene-

vese

Reformer

gave

to

the

world

( i n

1562)

the

remaining

sixty-seven, and thus

completed

the

psalter.1 The

a p p e a r a n c e

of this work coincides in

tim e with most

striking

events

in

the history of the

French Protestants, and

i t s e l f

marks a

singular c r i s i s

i n their fortunes.

Up to this

date the

psalms

in the

vernacular had

been

a l mos t unif orm l y

proscribed

by

Church

and

State. The singing of

them

by the common

p eo p l e

was taken

as a sure

sign

of heresy. I t

i s true

that

there

was a

short

period in the reign

of

Francis I .

when they seemed to

be

in high

favour

at court.

Charmed

by the rhythm, or by the music to which

they were

sung,

the monarch and the nobles of his

suite were p leased to adopt certain psalms as their

favourite

melodies,

quite

regardless

of

the

religious

sentiment expressed. According to the account of

a

contemporary,

a gentleman by the name of Ville-

madon,

Fra nc is him sel f was so much

pleased with

the thirty p s a l m s

translated

by Clement Marot and

dedicated. to the

king, that

he bade the poet present

his work to the Emperor Charles V., who in turn

set

high

store

by

the

translation,

rewarding

the

a uthor with a g i f t of two hundred doubloons, en

couraging him to complete

his work, and

asking

him, in

particular, to send

him as

soon as possible

his version of the psalm " O give

thanks unto

the

Lord, for He i s good; for

His

mercy endureth for

ever (Ps. c v i i . ) . 2

Douen, i i . ,

5 2 3 .

5

I b i d . ,

i . ,

3 1 7 .





1 5 6 2 ]

The

Huguenot Psalter 301

for the Word of God. Thus, for instance, i n 1558,

about

a

year

before

the

sudden

death

of

the

persecut

ing Henry I I . , a

singular

and unlooked-for outbreak

of ps alm-singing took p l a ce in the heart of Paris and

on

the

favourite

promenade of the best society, the

so-called Pre aux Clercs.

Here, just across

the

Seine from the Louvre,

i t happened

one

after

noon

in May

that

two or

three voices started the

tune of one of the

proscribed

psalm s. In an instant

other

voices joined

i n ,

showing that the words and

•the

air were f amil ia r to

many,

and

soon almost

the

whole

body of

promenaders—

tudents, gentlemen,

ladies among

the

rest

—

ere unitedly celebrating

God's glory.

The next

day, and the

next,

the

thing

was repeated. There

were said at

l a s t to

be

f i v e

or

six thousand

engaged

in the

unlawful

act of

praising

the

Almighty

in

French,

among

them

many

notable personages of state, i nc l ud ing th e King and

Queen of Navarre. The irregularity did not es ca pe

the notice

of the bigots of

the neighbouring

college

of

the

Sorbonne, the

theological

faculty of Paris;

nor did

they rest until

the bishop

of

the

city

had

called the

attention

of parliament

to an incident

which

was declared to

tend

to

sedition, public com

motion,

and a

disturbance

of the public

peace.1

Other features

of the awakening

are referred

to

elsewhere,

and

need

not

be recalled here.

Let

i t

suffice

my present purpose

to

repeat what Montluc,

Bishop

of

Valence, said i n

his famous s pee ch

in

the

Assembly of Notables

held

at Fontainebleau, i n

1

S e e

X i s e

of

t h e

H u g u e n o t s , i . ,

3 1 4 , 3 1 5 .




August, 1560, while the ol d

laws

were s t i l l in f u l l

force.

After

begging

the

young

king

(Francis

I I . )

to

have daily

preaching

in his

palace,

in order that

the mouths of those might be closed who asserted

that God was never spoken of among

those

about

his Majesty's person, the prelate turned to Catharine

de'

Medici

and

Mary

of Scots, and exclaimed :

"

And

you,

Mesdames

the

Queens, be

pleased t o p ar

don

me

i f

I

venture

t o

be g y ou

t o

command

t h a t , i n

place

of s i l l y songs,

your

maids a nd

a l l your

s u i t e s h a l l sing

only the

ps alm s

of D a v id a nd the s p i r i t u a l songs that

contain

the

praises

of

God. And remember that God's

eye searches out

a l l

places a nd

a l l men

i n t h i s world, but

r e s t s nowhere

[with

f av our] s av e where H is name

i s

i n

voked, praised, and exalted."

" And

hereupon," he

added, addressing himself

t o

the king,

"

I cannot abstain

from

saying

that

I

find

extremely

s trange the

view

of

those who would

interdict

the singing

of

the psalms, a nd

who

give occasion t o the seditious t o say

that we

are

no

longer fighting against men but against God,

for

we

s t r i v e t o

prevent H is praises from being proclaimed and

heard by a l l . "

This he followed by proof which i t would have been

d i f f i c u l t

for

his

opponents

to

refute,

and which

they

took good

care not

to

notice.1

The Guises kept the good advice of Montluc

and

others

from

bearing

f r u i t ,

but the movement

which

he

represented

did not

stay

i t s course. At last in

September,

1561,

the c ol loquy c a me.

I t

was

no

longer

a

matter

of

doubt

that a

considerable body

1

R e c u r i l

d e s

C h o s e s

Memorables

( 1 5 6 5 ) ,

2 9 5 ,

e t c .



CATHERINE D E

M E D I C I S .

F R O M A N E N G R A V I N G I N

T H E

P R I N T - R O O M ,

B R I T I S H

M U 8 E U M .



; t L I D ;

OF T H E

UNIVERSITY






fied; i t

was a

veritable f a mine

for the

Word of God'

that

had

to

be

s a t i s f i e d .

The

men,

women,

and

children even would sing the

psalms,

and at any

price

they

must have the books containing the

ps alm s , for use

at home,

i n the shop,

especially

i n

over two thousand congregations.

That

the Reformed religion

gained

ground

in

no

slight

extent from the stress

that

was

laid

upon

psalm-singing, i s a fact that cannot be ignored; nor

c a n

i t

be

denied

that

the

psalms

themselves

owed

much of their power to the suitable

and

attractive

music

to which they were s e t . In the RomanCatho

l i c churches

the

psalms were indeed

repeated,

but

i n

a

language

not understood

by

the l a i t y , being mono

tonously

chanted

by

the clergy. The

enemies

of

the Protestants might

inveigh

against the novelty

of

permitting

every

worship per

to

take

part

in

what

was the

priest's

prerogative by immemorial usage.

They

might with

Florimond

de Raemond condemn

and ridicule

as

incongruous,

i f

not positively

inde

corous

and profane,

the very idea that

these

holy

compositions of David the king

should be transferred

from the

church

to the workshops of artisans; that

the cobbler as he sewed shoes should

sing

the

divine

" Miserere "

(the

f i f t y - f i r s t

p s a l m )

at

his

bench, or the blacksmith as he smote upon the anvil,

drone the solemn " De P r of und is " (the one hundred

and thirtieth p s a l m) , or the baker hum some other

psalm at his oven. They might make much of the

confusion

arising i n

a

great

congregation

when in

one

part of the vast building i n which they were

assembled

the

singers

were

engaged in

repeating



1 5 6 2 I

The

Huguenot

Psalter 305

one verse and

in

a

d is ta nt p art

a different one, the

leader

being

unable

by

use

of

hands

or

feet

to

bring

them into

unison. They

might protest that not

with

out reason had the Catholic Church

prohibited

the

promiscuous,

rash,

and indiscreet use of those holy

and divine hymns dictated to David by the Holy

Spirit Himself, on the ground

that

the worship of God

i s not to be mingled with our ordinary actions, unless

with an attention and reverence bred of honour and

respect, and

that a

boy ought

not

to

be

permitted

to

delight

himself at

his

work with the psalms as

with

a pastime,

in

the

mid s t

of vain and frivolous

thoughts. They might question

whether when,

i n

the smaller congreg a tions, the

maidens

raised

their

sweet voices in song, their hearts were as firmly

directed

to God as both the hearts and the eyes

of

the

listening

youth

were

riveted

upon

the

f a i r

singers.1

Whatever

the

jealous enemies

of the

Protestants

and

their

worship

might affirm or

sus

pect,

at least they

could not deny that

in

the popu

l a r use of the psalms lay a most

attractive feature

of the Protestant

service.

The

celebrity

attained

by

Beza as a

translator

of

the

psalms

led the national synods

of France

to

look

to

him for

help

when the need was

f e l t

of

en

riching the worship of God's house with additional

hymns. Late

i n

the century, the thirteenth national

synod, meeting at Montauban in 1594,

requested

him " to trans la te into

French rhyme

the Hymns

of the

Bible, for

the purpose of their being

sung

in

1 F l o r .

d e

Rsemond, i i . ,

5 5 5 ,

6 2 5 ,

6 2 6 .

2 0



3°6 Theodore Beza [ i 5 9 5

the church together with the P s a l m s .

' ' 1

Four

years

l a t e r ,

the

fifteenth

synod,

of

Montpellier,

inserted

i n

i t s

rec ords a minute

to

the

effect

that

as regards

the

Hymns

of the

Bible

which

have been put

i n

rhyme by Monsieur de Beze, at the reques t of

several synods, they shall be sung i n the f am il ies to

train the peo ple and incline them to make public

use of them in

our

churches;

but this regulation

shall have effect only until

the next

national

synod.

*

The

f a c t ,

however, seems

to be

that the

Hugue

nots took

l e s s kindly to

these

later poetical

produc

tions of the venerable

author

than to his early

e f f o r t s .

The

hymns,

sixteen i n number, appeared i n 1595,

but promptly f e l l into disuse. On the other

hand,

Marot's and Beza's

psalms

retained

their

p l a ce i n

the

love

of

the

Huguenots,

throughout

the

checkered

existence

of French

Protestantism,

though

with

many verbal

alterations

dictated by changes

i n the

French language, down almost to

our own times.

1 Aymon, T ous Us S y n o d e s , i . , 1 8 5 . 2 I b i d , i . , 2 1 9 .



CHAPTERXVII

beza's

contributions to

history

HEODORE BEZA'S direct contributions

to

1 historical science were few. He was a s chol ar

and a teacher f i r s t , and by preference ; afterwards a

man of action through the strength of

his

convic

tions

and the

force

of providential circumstances.

As a

teacher he wrote

to inform and

convince others,

and

readily p a s se d

from the

f i e l d

of calm and quiet

,instruction

into

the

f i e l d

of

controversy,

that

he

might

refute and

silence those who

held

different

views

from h i s ,

and

who undertook to

maintain

these

views by argument.

As the

man

of action

he

was

chiefly concerned

with the future of the

great

cause

to which he had deliberately sacrificed every

pros pect of wealth

and

promotion

in his

native

country. Present

duties l e f t him l i t t l e time to look

backward, had his tastes

inclined him so to

do.

The

nearest approach that Beza

ever made

to entering

upon the

writing

of

history was a

sketch

dashed

o f f on the

s pur

of the moment and

with

a distinct

bearing

upon present controversies.

I have already

had occasion to refer to the Life of Calvin, as a

tribute of f i l i a l love and respect to one whom he held

above

a l l

others

to

be

entitled

to

the

appellation

of



308

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

father. Melchior Wolmar alone could have dis

puted

with

John

Calvin the claim

to

be

Beza's

in

tellectual and

spiritual parent.

But great as was

Beza's indebtedness to him who had emancipated

his higher powers from the slavery of ignorance and

superstition, and

implanted

a thirst for the truth, i t

was to the wonderful hold that Cal vin took upon

him

that

was due the mysterious change

that

made

of

Beza

a true

Reformer

qualified to take

up

the

onerous

work

of

leader

of

the

Church

of

Geneva

and preeminently the

counsellor of French Pro

testantism.

The Life of

Calvin

breathes in every line the deep

affection and unbounded reverence in which his

»

' . biographer holds him. I t

i s

no

blind

panegyric,

but a e ul og y ba s ed

on firm conviction.

The writer's

contention

i s

contained

in

two

or

three sentences:

" I t c an be affirmed (and

a l l

those

that

have known

him w i l l be good a nd s u f f i c i e n t witnesses

t o the truth of

t h i s ) , that never has Calvin ha d an enemy who, i n a s s a i l

ing him, has not waged wa r against God . For f rom the

time

that God introduced

H is c ha m p ion into the l i s t s , i t

may

well

be said that Satan

has selected

him,

a s

though

having

forgotten

a l l

the

other

challengers,

f o r

the

object

of

h i s

a s s a u l t , a nd has sought t o bring him , i f p o s s i b l e ,

t o the ground. On the

other

hand, God has

shown him

t h i s favour, that

He has conferred on him a s

many

trophies

a s

he has ha d

enemies

opposed

t o

him.

I f therefore

a n

inquiry be instituted into the combats he has Fustained

from

within

for

doctrine's sake,

nothing c an

make them

a p pear s l i g h t but the diligence he has used

so

a s not t o

give

h i s

enemies

l e i s u r e

t o

recover

t h e i r

b r e a t l . ,

an

J

the



1 5 6 4 ] Contributions

to

History 309

steadfastness God has

conferred on him never

t o

y i e l d , ,

be i t

ever

so

l i t t l e ,

i n

the

Lord's

quarrel."

1

In carrying on these struggles

with

God's enemies,

of whom Beza

gives

the formidable l i s t , and where

with he occupies many p a ges of his treatise, he does

not deny that the subject of

his biography

was

vehement and by nature

prone

to anger, but main

tains that that vehemence in God's

service

assumed

a truly prophetic

ty pe

and invested him

with

a

majesty a p p ar ent

to

a l l .

"

Those who s h a l l read

h i s writings

and s h a l l seek

the

glory of God

i n uprightness, w i l l there behold

the

shin

ing of the majesty whereof

I

speak," says the admiring

w r i t e r . " As f o r those who a t the present time t r e a t r e

l i g i o n as they

t r e a t

p o l i t i c a l a f f a i r s , being

colder than

i c e

i n

regard

t o the a f f a i r s of

God,

more

aflame

than

f i r e i n

what concerns

themselves,

a nd

c a l l

anger

everything that

i s

more frankly

said

than pleases

them

; a s

he never

t r i e d

t o please that kind of people, I a l s o s h a l l make i t a

matter of conscience not t o amuse myself with answer

ing them. What then would

these

wise men s a y ,

these men so moderate (provided

that

God alone

be

i n question), i f they ha d ha d experience

of

such anger

from closer

a t

hand ?

I f e e l

confident that they would

have

been a s

much

displeased

as I

myself esteem, a nd

s h a l l a l l my

l i f e

long

esteem,

myself

h a p p y t o

have

been

the hearer of

so

great

and rare an excellence, both i n

public a nd

i n

private." 2

1 D i s c o u r s

d e T h e o d o r e d e B e z e c o n t e n a n t e n b r e f

V h i s t o i r c

d e l a

v i e e t mort d e

m a i t r e

fean

C a l v i n . I n

C E u v r e s F r a n c o i s e s d e

C a l

v i n

( I ' a r i s ,

1 8 4 2 ) ,

4 .

8 I b i d . ,

1 8 .



3io Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

.

To Theodore

Beza

ha s been commonly ascribed

the authorship

of

a n

extensive

work

that

appeared

i n three

volumes

at

Antwerp in

1580.

The

t i t l e

in

translation reads: Ecclesiastical History

of the

Reformed

Churches

in

the Kingdom of France;

wherein are truthfully described their revival and

growth from the year 1521 until the year 1 56 3, their

laws or discipline, synods, persecutions both general

and

particular,

the

names

and

labours

of

those

who

have h a p p i l y toiled,

the c i t i e s and places where

they

were

established,

with

the account

of

the

f i r s t

troubles or

c i v i l

wars."

Of the value of this history too much cannot be

said. I t i s the e a r l i e s t , as i t i s the f u l l e s t , account

of the

f i r s t

forty years of the Reformation i n

France.

I t

i s

accurate,

thorough,

authentic.

There i s no p re

tence

of anything l ike fine

writing,

the author being

quite content

with

the s im p l e statement of events as

they

occurred. This

being

i t s

object,

i t s author has

not hesitated to

incorporate

into

his

narrative

ex

tensive pa ssages in which the

phraseology

agrees

word

for

word with pa ssages

in

other

contemporary

Huguenot writings, s uch as the Histoire

de I'Estat

de

France

sous

l e

Regne

de

Francois

I I . ,

attributed

to

Regnier

de l a Planche, the Commentaires of

Pierre de

l a

Place, the Martyrology of

Jean Crespin,

and

others. Documents of importance are

inserted

without

change

or

abridgment.

The stories

of

the

growth and

development of

individual churches

are

reproduced

a p parently

in the very

words of

the

local

accounts

forwarded

to Geneva

or Paris.

In

short,

i t

i s

a c om p i l a tion

laboriously

and judiciously made,



1 5 8 o ] Contributions to History 311

the g en er al tr us twort hine ss of which ha s been

established

beyond

controversy

by

a

comparison

with infor m ation

derived from other

sources, and,

within

our

own days, more than once corroborated

by

the unexpected discovery of

o f f i c i a l

documents

long hidden from the knowledge of men. Who the

true

author was will

perhaps

never be known.

I t

was certainly not Beza, although he was a

f riend of

Beza

and

doubtless received

much help

from

Beza

in the collection

of materials for

the composition of

the work. This

i s

evident

from

a mere

inspection

of the book i t s e l f . The

writer speaks of

Beza uni

formly

i n the third person.

He i s

prevented by no

feeling of modesty

from

praising Beza's great s p eech

at Poissy, asserting that i t was delivered

i n

a man

ner

very agreeable to a l l those who were present,

as

the

most

d i f f i c u l t

to

please

subsequently

admitted,

and that

i t

was

listened

to with

remarkable

attention

until the

orator

reached the point in his discourse

which the prelates chose to make an occasion for

their noisy interruption.1 He refers to conversations

which he had himself held with Beza; as where he

says:

Beza made no answer

for the

moment be

cause,

as I

have since heard

him say,

he was satisfied

with replying to

the chief point without touching

upon what was accessory." 3 He inserts an address

made by Beza to Queen Catharine de' Medici i n the

name of t he P r ot es ta nt

ministers

in the great coun

c i l

chamber

of the castle of Saint Germain, prefacing

i t with the remark that i t was as follows, so far as

1

f f U f o i r e

E ( c l ( ' s „

j . ,

5 7 8 ,

*/ifJ„

i . ,

6 4 6 ,



3J2

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

could be

gathered." 1 But the

inference

drawn

from

the

contents

of

the

work

that

i t

was

written

by

someone

else

than Beza

i s converted into

certainty

by

a

p a s s a g e

i n a

letter

to the Landgrave

of Hesse,

from

the hand

of Beza

himself, who, in sending a

copy of the history, soon

after i t s

publication, com

mends i t both for i t s substance and for the fidelity

and absence of a l l literary embellishment with which

i t i s written, although

the

author

ha s

suppressed

his name, fearing that

truest

of

sayings,

' Truth

begets hatred.' *

Somewhat more than

a mere collection of

eulogies,

yet decidedly l e s s than a series of unprejudiced

biographies, was a book, the genuine work of Beza,

that

saw the light of day in the same year 1580.

I t

bore the t i t l e Icones (Images), with a sub-title

showing

that

i t

consisted

of

"

True

Portraits

of

the

men,

illustrious for

learning

and piety,

by whose

ministry

chiefly,

on

the one ha nd , the

studies of

good letters were restored, and,

on the

other,

true

religion was renewed in various regions of the Christ

ian world within our memory and that of our fathers ;

with the addition of descriptions of their l i f e and

works.

I t was a

veritable

gallery

wherein

the

reader

seemed

to

p a s s

successively in

front of

not far

from

one

hundred picture-frames,

intended

to be f i l l e d

by correct representations

of the

most

famous characters of the modern religious world.

The desire of the author had ind eed outrun his

ability. Over one half of the places were unoc-

1

I b i d . ,

i . ,

7 8 1 ,

s

Heppe,

3 8 2 ,

3 8 3 .



1 5 8 o ]

Contributions to

History

313

cupied, and the descriptions confronted blank s pa ces

which

t he rea d er

was

exhorted,

i f

possible,

to

supply

with

the

necessary canvases.

None the less were

the

rude delineations of

the

more fortunate

subjects

calculated to

deepen in

the reader's

mind

the im

pression made

by those

heroic

characters

that had

p l aye d a prominent part in the religious a f f a i r s of

the

century.

Afew representatives of earlier cent

uries were there i n their appropriate places—he

forerunners or advance-guard in the great proces

sion,

—

yclif,

Hus, Jerome

of

Prague,

and

Savon

arola; but

the

majority were men

of

contemporary

times, o r , at l e a s t , of

times

within the memory

of

men s t i l l a l i v e . To anyone

that remembers the

close

connection which

the Reformers

always

recog

nised as existing between the p rogress of letters and

the

advance

of

pure

religion,

i t

will

not

be

startling

to find

occupying no inconspicuous p l a ce not only

the great humanist Erasmus,

of

Rotterdam, in com

pany

with

his

rival Reuchlin, but

Francis

I . ,

of

France, as the patron of

learning and of

the

Renais

sance, with the c orp s of literary

men

with whom he

and his s i s t e r surrounded

themselves—

ude, Va-

table, and Toussain

—

hile Michel de 1 ' Hospital,

Scaliger, and the grea t p rinter Robert Etienne, or

Stephens, were not far

o f f .

Clement Marot, the

translator

of one

third

of

the

psalter,

had

his

own

place

as

a reward

for

" the

extreme

usefulness

to

the

Churches of the

work which he

had

accom

plished, a work deserving eternal

remembrance ;

despite the f a c t ,

recorded

by his appreciative

con-

tinuator,

that

the

poet

had

never,

even

to

the

l a s t



3


days of his l i f e , amended his bad morals, acquired

during

a

protracted

residence

at

court,

that

worst

of teachers of piety and honourable

deportment.

Apart

from the pictorial

illustrations,

the Icones,

notwithstanding the brevity of

the

sketches, con

stitute an

important source of trustworthy informa

tion, to which we willingly admit

our

indebtedness

on

more

than one occasion. For

i f

the s p i r i t of

high appreciation p er v a d es the work, the words of

panegyric are, for the most part, reserved for the

epigrams that are interspersed

— species

of com

position

to

which

Beza was much addicted even

down to

his

latest

years.

No more

convenient

p l a c e

than this may

occur to

make

a

p assing

reference

to

the circumstance that

Beza interested

himself

in the matter

of

the correct

pronunciation

both

of

the

Latin

and

Greek

langua

ges and of the French, and published short treatises

on the

subject

of the

f i r s t

two i n the

years

1 5 8 0 and

1587, and of the third

i n

1584. This

l a s t

treatise,

of which copies have now become so extremely

scarce as to be practically unobtainable, possesses a

real value as a historical discussion of the fluctua

tions

of

Beza's

native

tongue.



CHAPTERXVIII

BEZA THE PATRIOTIC PREACHER

—

EZA AND

HENRY

I V . ' S APOSTASY

HE patriotism which Beza

had

always exhibited

1 in behalf of the l i t t l e commonwealth which he

chose to be

his

adopted country,

had a

fresh

oppor

tunity

to

display

i t s e l f

in

the new

dangers

that

menaced

Geneva

in

the years from 1 5 9 0 to 1592.

The peril came

from the persistent

efforts of an im

placable enemy, the Duke of Savoy. To the ex

posure to a ctua l warfare were added the discomfort

and losses of a state of virtual siege, emphasised

from time to time by a n approach to a real famine

of bread. There was dissension at home.

I f

the

g reater p a rt

of

the

citizens

did

not

falter in

their

purpose, there was no lack of faint-hearted

men,

even

among

the citizens,

men who would have

been

glad to pur ch a se safety

with

submission. But i n

the c r i s i s

of

the

peril

the voice

of

Beza was raised

in no irresolute tones proclaiming from the ol d p ul

pit of the church of Saint Pierre the same doctrine

that

he

had

advocated

more

than

a

generation

before.

The

sermons

which

he preached—e

be-

1 590-1593



3r6

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

lieved they would be his l a s t—

ere

intended to be

a

testimony

and,

so

to

speak, a

testament

containing

a f i n a l recapitulation of the teaching of a lifetime.

He

inculcated, on the

one ha nd , rep enta nc e

and

amendment of l i f e

in the sight

of God, and, on

the

other, a

bold

and

unflinching maintenance of

the

rights

and the liberties of the

republic.

The war

was unavoidable. I t was

also

just, because

waged

i n

self-defence. Seldom

ha s

a n

orator

of

threescore

years and ten more vigorously or

more eloquently

set

forth the

motives for a

hearty and hopeful

prose

cution

of

a n

honourable struggle. Let

me

give a

single

p a s s a g e which ha s d es er v ed l y called forth the

admiration of

a n acute

writer of recent times,1 who,

referring to i t s construction formed altogether on

classical

models,

well observes that

we might almost

fan cy

that

we

were

listening

in

Athens

i t s e l f

to

the

voice

of Pericles

exhorting his fellow-citizens

to

persevere

i n

carrying

on the Peloponnesian War.

"

Humanly

speaking," says

Beza,

"

common sense

of

i t s e l f teaches us

t o l a y

down l i f e

for the

salvation

of

our

country a nd

for

a j u s t freedom. And, before going any

f a r t h e r ,

people

of Geneva, how o f t e n , i n

c o n f l i c t

against

the

same enemies,

ha ve your

f a t h e r s , when

reduced

t o

the l a s t extremity,

maintained

very

bravely that

l i b e r t y

which they

have l e f t

you

—

l i b e r t y

which I

also

hope

and dare assure myself t h a t , with the Lord's help, you

w i l l preserve t o the very end And

t h i s

for a reason

s t i l l more j u s t than that which a l l your predecessors

had.

For, not

t o mention

the yoke of a

miserable

slavery

1

A .

S a y o u s ,

f i j u d e s

L i t U r a i r e s

sur

l e s

£ c r i v a i n s

Franâis

d e

l a

R e f o r m a t i o n ,

i . ,

3 0 6 .



1 5 9 2 ] The Patriotic Preacher 317

which men would impose upon u s , i t i s God's glory and

t r u t h ,

i t

i s

our

s o u l s ,

our

conscience,

our

eternal salva

tion

that

are now

a t s t a k e ,

whatever

colour or

pretext

may be

alleged t o the contrary.

As

for

a l l

the

f i n e

promises

that may be made t o you on t h i s p o i n t , have

you not made proof enough of what the good f a i t h a nd

the honesty

of

those with whom you have t o do amount

t o

? And a s t o

u s ,

gathered here from

so many d i f f e r e n t

p l a c e s , who have found here

not an

Egypt,

but

a l l

gen

tleness

and

kindness,

c an

i t be

that

there

should be

found

one i n

the midst of

us that

would

consent, i n so

cowardly

a

manner

a nd with such base ingratitude, t o

leave

the

home under the shelter of which we

ha ve been

received,

rather

than show by

our

deeds, a nd

u n t i l the l a s t

breath

of l i f e ,

that i t wa s zeal

for the

glory

of

God

alone,

and

the desire t o

be fed with H is holy

Word ,

a nd t o serve

Him purely, that made us renounce a l l the advantages

of

t h i s

world

i n

order

t o

obtain

that

p earl of great p rice

which

we

have found

a nd which

illuminates

us

i n t h i s

place ?

I

do not believe

i t ,

nor

i s

i t

t h i s that leads

me

t o

speak. I speak s o l e l y

f o r

the purpose of persuading

those that may be

i n

doubt, a nd confirming those that

may i n any way be wavering.

But l e t

us

consider whether

the d i f f i c u l t i e s are

such

a nd so great a s they are

represented

t o b e . I f i t be a

question

of provisions,

i t

cannot

be

said that

there

i s

a

lack a s y e t .

I f

i n t h i s circumstance

we do

not recognise

the

great a nd extraordinary kindness

of

God, experienced

more than

once

within a

few y e a r s ,

when not only

war,

but famine, from

f a r

a nd near, threatened t o be imme

diately upon

u s ,

s h a l l we not deserve by our ingratitude

that what we fear a nd

s t i l l

worse

may

b e f a l l us ?

I a s k ,

upon

h i s conscience,

i f there i s

a person

i n

t h i s assembly

who,

ha d

he thought

that

t h i s

war

would

l a s t

three



318 Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 I 9 -

months only, would have dared

t o

promise himself

that

there

would

be

a

market

for

the

purchase

of

the

neces

s a r i e s of l i f e i r i Geneva ? Yet God has brought t h i s t o

pass a nd s t i l l continues i t , a f t e r the l o s s of harvest a nd

vintage, a f t e r

so

many f i r e s a nd the

devastation

of the

whole

region. And

what s h a l l

make us

d i s t r u s t f u l r e

specting the f u t u r e , i f i t be not forgetfulness of the past ?

What s h a l l those miserable Parisians a nd other con

spirators against their

king go

so f a r

as to

eat

t h e i r

horses

and

a s s e s ,

instead

of

renouncing

what

they

have

so miserably undertaken, a nd c an i t be that we should

l o s e

courage

so

soon i n

so

j u s t

a nd

necessary

a

defence

of our

property,

our

l i v e s ,

a nd our

souls

?

" Our

money has given

o u t . Perhap s

our enemy i s

not i n l e s s perplexity

than

we a r e . But,

however

that

may b e , He that has provided f o r us hitherto i s not dea d,

He w i l l

never d i e .

And

were those

t o f a i l us who serve

us

only

for

money's

sake,

l e t

us

boldly

say

that

we

should

have l o s t nothing whereon we ought to have leaned. A

s i n g l e man armed with f a i t h toward God, with zeal f o r

H is g l o r y , and with love of h i s country, w i l l be worth a

thousand h i r e l i n g s .

The

chief captains are confined t o

t h e i r

beds i n

consequence of

disease

or

wounds. S o

be

i t ; God w i l l r a i s e them up again when i t s h a l l please

Him,

a nd when they

s h a l l be needed.

We

s h a l l then

have

learned

from

experience

more

than

once,

t o

the

great astonishment of the c ap ta ins themselves, that the

arm

of the God of hosts i s not dependent upon either

the

prudence

a nd experience of c ap tains or the v a lour

of

soldiers t o

such

a

degree that

He cannot do H is

work a l l

by

Himself,

when

i t

so

pleases Him.

And when

w i l l i t please Him ? When those who fear Him a nd

t r u s t

i n Him have need.

"

We

have been

twice

beaten

with rod s

within

a

few



t 5 9 2 ]

The

Patriotic Preacher 3t9

days ; but l e t not our

enemies

boast. I t i s neither their

courage

nor

t h e i r

strength

that

has

done

t h i s ,

but

our

f a u l t a nd

rashness. To

go

back

t o the source

of t h i s

d i s a s t e r , i t i s

our too great

a nd

long-continued errors

that God has determined t o chastise very l i g h t l y and f o r

our great good, i f

He

be pleased t o grant us grace t o

amend

our

ways. The ' t e n t r i b e s

of I s r a e l

i n

the

very

j u s t a nd

necessary

wa r against Benjamin l o s t forty

thou

sand men

i n

two b a t t l e s ; yet they did not d e s i s t and

happily

accomplished

what

they

ha d

j u s t l y

begun.

And,

I

pray you, ought

t h i s s o r t i e , which met with poor

suc

cess i n consequence

of our great

mistake,

t o have

more

power t o

astonish us a nd lead us

t o adopt

disorderly

plans than over s i x stout a nd s t i f f

encounters

against a

larger force of our

adversary

s h a l l have t o

encourage

us

when

we

have God

before us and with

us

? I f

the Lord

demands our l i v e s as

a

s a c r i f i c e

f o r

H is g l o r y ,

what

greater

ha p p ines s coul d

we

desire

than

t o

pass

from

t h i s

l i f e into l i f e everlasting i n so j u s t a defence of the cause

of the Lord

a nd

of our c ountry

together ?

And those

who,

by reason

of a

lack of

the true

a nd holy

steadfast

ness

of

which we speak, may be disposed through

cow

ardice t o abandon our standard, whereon the name of

Jesus

Christ

i s inscribed,

whither s h a l l they f l e e t o escape

from H is hands

?

"

Now

t h i s

i s

not

spoken,

my

brethren,

f o r

the

purpose

of

trumpeting

the war, t o which may our

good

God and

Father be pleased t o

p ut a

good and h a p p y end. But i n

order

that we may

reach

i t , l e t us not take counsel

of

d i s t r u s t or of an

inordinate apprehension

of the d i f f i c u l

t i e s

that o f f e r .

But

knowing

how

we

entered

upon

the

war, l e t

us commit

ourselves

t o

Him who i s

the safe

refuge

of the

oppressed

a nd

who requites

the proud a nd

ambitious.

Let

us

acknowledge a nd

correct the

f a u l t s




because of

which

what had

been well a nd

h o l i l y resolved

upon

has not

always

been

carried

out

i n

l i k e

manner.

Let us

ask

Him

for the increase of

zeal unto H is g l o r y ,

a nd of the f a i t h needed

i n

the

midst

of such tempests,

that we

be not swallowed

up

of them, but reach the

haven through

a l l these winds

a nd storms. Let us not

join H is

arm

t o the

arm

of f l e s h ; but commit

ourselves

t o Him with such prudence as i t may please Him t o

give u s ,

a s

well res p ec ting the means

a s respecting

the

time

of

our

deliverance.

Let

us

keep

bound

a nd

c l o s e ,

f i r s t t o

Him,

the

strongest of

the

strong,

a nd then t o on e

another, by a true

mutual

l o v e , so a s

a t

l a s t

t o

say with

D a v i d

: '

I waited patiently for the Lord, a nd He inclined

unto me.'

S o doing,

what have we t o f e a r , since God i s

for u s , a nd

death i t s e l f i s

made for us the entrance i n t o

the

true

l i f e ?

Otherwise, we must needs come

t o

what

was published i n the camp of God's people i n the matter

of

war

: '

What

man

i s

there

that

i s

f e a r f u l

a nd

f a i n t

hearted

? l e t him go a nd return unto h i s house, l e s t h i s

brethren's heart

melt

a s

well

a s h i s

h e a r t . '

But

I

dare

t o hope that none such

s h a l l

be

found, a nd

that rather

the great God of hos ts

w i l l

show

us H is

great wonders.

Amen. 1

I t i s

a

somewhat

singular

circumstance

that

so

staunch

a

Protestant,

so

fearless

an

a d voc a te

of

the

principles

of

the Reformation

as

Theodore

Beza

should

have been misrepresented as actually ap

proving,

i f

not

a p pl auding ,

the act of a postasy

by

which Henry IV. secured undis puted possession of

the crown of France at the price of the denial of his

conscientious convictions. S t i l l

more

strange i s i t

1

S a y o u s ,

i . ,

3 0 8 - 3 1 4 .



t 5 9 3 l Apostasy of Henry IV 321

that

i t

i s not a Roman Catholic,

but

a

Protestant

biographer

of

the

Reformer

and

a

writer

of

no

mean

repute,

Friedrich

Christoph

Schlosser, who makes

the

paradoxical

assertion,

maintaining

that

Beza

gave

a signal

proof

that he

was

far

removed

from a

blind fanaticism, in that,

instead of lamenting the

king's

defection,

he regarded that

defection as

a

necessary

step

to

heal the

wounds

of a country rent

asunder

by

religious dissension.1

In

point of

f a c t , so

far from

acquiescing in Henry's

defection, Beza opposed i t with

a l l

his might. Using

the freedom of an ol d friend, he wrote

earnestly

in

advance to diss uad e the

king

from

showing any

weakness.

His

letter ha s been brought to light

and

shows that Beza, at seventy-four

years

of

age,

had

lost none of his old-time vigour. Apprehending the

increasing

severity

of

the

attacks

to

which

Henry

would certainly be

exposed

in the conference

with

the Roman Catholic

prelates for

which the

time

of

meeting was already determined

upon,

the

Reformer

t e l l s

the monarch that the prayers

of his

fellow-be

lievers

continually r i s e

to

heaven

that

by

his stead

fastness

he

may win in the

sight

of

God

and

man a

crown

far

more precious

than the

two

earthly

crowns

(of

France

and Navarre) which

were already divinely

conferred

upon

him,

although a s .

yet he had not

come into complete possession of them. He there

fore begs

him

to see to

i t that,

in the coming con

ference

for

instruction, the truth shall be provided

with

good and

sufficient

advocates as

against

the

teachers of falsehood, and that only s uch arms shall

x L e b e n

d e s

T h e o d o r

d e

Beza

( H e i d e l b e r g ,

1 8 0 9 ) ,

2 7 2 .

2 1



322 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 i $ -

be

allowed

as ought

to be

employed in this

spiritual

combat.

Let

not

the

king p erm it

himself

to

be

dazzled by the glitter of alleged antiquity and of

Fathers

and

Councils

of the Church, but i n s i s t on an

a p p e a l to the Holy Scriptures alone, a l l additions

thereto

of

whatever kind

having f i r s t been removed.

Then l e t the

world

know that he enters into

this

conference, not

because

he

i s

in

doubt or irresolute

respecting a religion in

which

he ha s been nurtured

from his infancy, but bec aus e he would

have a l l

men know

that

he i s a lover of truth, and neither a

heretic nor a

relapsed person,

as there are some

that

dare to affirm. Let Henry make

i t understood

that

he cannot and

will

not suffer violence to be done to

his

own

conscience,

as

he

will never use violence

toward the conscience of others.

Let

him therefore

humble

himself

and

from

the

bottom

of

his

heart

pray for a

truly

contrite s p i r i t , to the end

that

having

obtained

pardon for

everything

wherein

he

ha s

offended,

being a

man

as he

i s , God

may not

take away from

him His Holy Spirit,

without whom

i t were far better to have been only a s im p le private

person rather than a king or prince, yea, never to

have been born at

a l l

rather than live and draw

upon

himself

a condemnation

so much

more

severe

as he

ha s received more favours from

the

Creator.

As

to

the difficulties of his position, l e t Henry ask

himself whether he ha s not by the grace of God

encountered and overcome greater perils from his

childhood up . Has he never been

accompanied by

fewer

friends ?

Has he

never been more destitute

of

human

help

?



1 5 9 3 ] Apostasy of

Henry IV 323

Here

Beza

could scarcely

have been more

frank

and

insistent.

" Have not your most f a i t h f u l servants been massacred,

a s i t

were, i n

your

very

arms ? And how

many

times

has

your l i f e been a t

the mercy of

your enemies, i n thou

sands

and thousands

of

ways ? Thereupon, what has

become of the

enemies of

God

and your

enemies,

against

whom He

has

stretched

forth

H is

powerful

arm, yea,

often

when

you

could

not

have imagined i t

?

Have

not

those enemies that remain s t i l l

t o

do with the same Jud ge

a nd for the

same cause

? Has that

great

God changed

i n

H is

power against

H is

hardened

enemies,

or

i n H is

w i l l

t o maintain

and r a i s e up

H is own

servants,

when a nd

i n such manner

a s

i t s h a l l please Him? The issue can

never be other than very good a nd very happy for those

that follow Him without straying from the path by which

He

leads

them.

. . .

Moreover,

S i r e ,

we

are

assured

t h a t , over

a nd

above what we

have

s a i d ,

a nd

a l l that

could be said on

t h i s

p o i n t ,

you

have

not forgotten a nd

never

w i l l forget

that precious

sentiment

of which, as we

have

learned,

you

were so

expressly reminded by

the

l a t e

queen, your

mother

of immortal a nd most blessed

memory,

i n

her l a s t w i l l a nd testament, namely,

that

' God

knows them

that honour Him a nd casts dishonour

on

them

that

dishonour Him.'

Nor

a l s o ,

a s

we

b e l i e v e ,

have you

forgotten that

excellent speech which

God

p ut

i n t o

your

heart a nd into your mouth t o

utter

i n the

midst

of alarms,

as i t

has

been reported t o us

: '

I f i t be

my

God's

w i l l that I r e i g n , I

s h a l l

r e i g n , despite a ny a t

tempt t o prevent me ; a nd i f i t be not H is w i l l ,

neither

i s

i t mine.' They were words

worthy

of a king Most

Christian both i n name a nd

i n

f a c t . S u c h God

grant

that

you

may

always

b e , f o r

H is

glory

a nd

f o r

the

estab




lishment

of your

France, a nd may your M ajesty

remem

ber

the firmness

of

the

poor

c i t y

of

Geneva,

f o r

r e l i g i o n ' s

sake reduced to great s t r a i t s ,—eneva that i s l i t t l e i n

power, but very sincere i n i t s attachment t o your service."

The

letter

closed

with

a reference to the instruct

ive

example of

King D a v i d ,

rescued

from a thou

s a nd deaths, miraculously

carried to

the throne, and,

after exposure for years to c i v i l war, finally p laced in

f u l l

possession

of

his

regal

rights

;

and

with

a

prayer

that

Henry

might surpass

even

D a v i d , by avoiding

David's

faults

and

imitating

David's virtues.1

The author

of

so sturdy

a

plea

for manly perse

ver an ce

amid temptations to weakness

would have

been slow to approve

the

pusillanimous

surrender of

principle

made

by

Henry IV., on July 25, 1593, at

the abbey of S a int D enis .

He

would have been the

l a s t

man

on

earth

to applaud

the

Abjuration

as a

necessary step to heal the wounds of

his unfortunate

kingdom,

o r ,

to use a more modern phrase, as a

disinterested sacrifice

of

personal preferences upon

the

altar

of

patriotism.

1 Beza t o Henry I V . , J u n e , 1 5 9 3 , i n B u l l e t i n ,

i . , 4 1 - 4 6 .

Tht

Huguenots

and

Henry of Navarre, i i . , 3 3 4 .



CHAPTERXIX

BEZA'S LATER YEARS IN GENEVA

THEl a s t twenty or twenty-five years of Beza's

l i f e at Geneva were years of diminishing activ

i t y , but not of idleness. Burdens too heavy f or his

impaired health were gradually thrown o f f , but there

remained a wide range

of labours

useful to

Church

and

Republic.

His

property did

not,

we may

believe,

p l a c e

him

among

the

wealthy

citizens

of

Geneva. I t

suf

ficed for his wants and not only made him

inde

pendent of

others,

but permitted him to gratify his

well-known hospitality and l i b e r a l i t y .

Thus

i t was

that, on

occasion, when

the Un iv er si ty

lost I t s

p ro

fessors

whom

i t

had no means of

paying, Beza

was

glad to

carry on

the

work

of instruction at his own

charges,

until

the

advent

of

better

times.

With the same gratitude to Heaven with which i n

his

autobiography he

chronicles the

fact

that

he was

born of

a

noble

Burgundian

family, he

alludes

in

his

later years to the

comparative

ease

of

his

pecuniary

circumstances. He

was no indigent refugee.

In

d ed ic a ti ng t he

f i r s t

edition of his collected theologi

c a l works to Sir Thomas Mildmay ( i n February,

1570), he

stated

i t

as his chief

reason

for

so

doing,

3 2 5



326

Theodore Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

that the English

knight

had in times of great calam

ity

generously

relieved

the

necessities

of

the

poor

exiles

who had forsaken their native

land for

the

Gospel's sake.

" Since

then,"

he adds, "

I

a l s o

am

one of

their num

ber

—y no

means indeed needy,

by God's kindness,

but

nevertheless so

united

with

them

by

the

same s p i r i t

i n C h r i s t , that whatever things b e f a l l them

I

regard a s

my own,

—

have

believed

that

I

could

not

escape

the

vice of ingratitude, unless

I

gave

expression

t o the r e

spect i n

which

I

hold

you, by proffering these volumes

as a pledge. The

time

i s most opportune

;

since I ha d

them i n

my hands a t the very moment when the an

nouncement

reached

me

of your benevolence toward

our poor students."

E vi dent ly

the Rector of the Univers ity of Geneva

was

not

dependent

upon

the

scanty

emolument,

irregularly paid, of his o f f i c e , but had retained or

recovered no

insignificant part of the f am il y inherit

ance.1

I f the sight

of

the honourable position at

tained

by Beza,

the professor at

Lausanne,

had

affected

d ee p l y his father and brothers,

who

had

learned

of

his departure from France

with great

dis

pleasure,

the

admiration

of

the

survivors knew

no

bounds

when, at the court of France, about the

1 M. C h a r l e s

Borgeaud

r e f e r s ( B u l l e t i n , x l v i i i . [ 1 8 9 9 ] , 6 4 ) t o t h e

f a c t t h a t

a

number o f B e z a ' s s c h o l a r s l i v e d under h i s r o o f and a t e a t

h i s t a b l e ,

and a d d s

:

" T h i s

g r e a t

man,

who

was

t h e

c o u n s e l l o r

o f s o

many k i n g s and p r i n c e s ,

t h e

i n c o n t e s t a b l e head o f

a

p o w e r f u l p a r t y ,

and

t h e s p i r i t u a l d i r e c t o r o f a r e p u b l i c ,

was

t h r o u g h o u t h i s

whole

l i f e o b l i g e d ,

i n

v i e w

o f t h e

s l e n d e r n e s s o f

h i s

r e s o u r c e s ,

t o

have

b o a r d e r s i n h i s home. T o one o f t h e s e l a s t , George Sigismond o f

Z a s t r i s e l l ,

he

s o l d

h i s

l i b r a r y

( f o r

s i x

hundred

g o l d

c r o w n s ) . "

T h e ,



1 5 6 4 ] Later

Years in Geneva 327

time of the

Colloquy

of Poissy, their kinsman gained

s uch

distinction

as

he

c oul d not

possibly

have

ac

quired through the favour and patronage of

his

Roman

Catholic

connections.

One circumstance,

a result

of Beza's voluntary

withdrawal

from France in 1548,

ha s not been noticed.

Ayear or

more

had

elapsed

since he reached

Geneva,

when the procureur

general,"

or king's attorney,

attached to the Parliament of Paris took cognisance

of the f a c t . As a n absentee Beza was summoned

to appear before the court within the s p a c e of three

days, and, having failed to present himself, was, on

the l a s t day of

May,

1

5

50,

condemned to

be ex

ecuted in e f f i g y , a l l

his

property being declared

forfeited to the king.

The sentence

was never

pub

lished or executed.

Fourteen

years l a t e r , both

Henry

I I .

and

Francis

I I .

being

now

dead,

the

Reformer obtained from Charles IX. (August

1 ,

1564) a formal annulment under the

great

seal of

France

and accompanied

by honourable expressions.

I t was the

king's w i l l ,

moreover,

that

Beza should

enjoy,

i n company with

a l l

his other

subjects,

the

f u l l

benefits of the

edict

of

pacification.1

The docu-

t r u t h

seems

t o

b e

t h a t

w h i l e

B e z a ' s

means

were

ample

f o r

h i s

p e r

s o n a l w a n t s , h e was

s o

l i b e r a l i n h i s g i f t s t o

e v e r y

good w o r k ,

i n

c l u d i n g t h e

U n i v e r s i t y , and t o e v e r y

d e s e r v i n g

a p p l i c a n t

f o r h i s

a s s i s t a n c e , t h a t h e c o u l d

p u t

t o

good

a c c o u n t e v e r y l i t t l e a d d i t i o n t o

h i s i n c o m e .

He was c h i l d l e s s , and

h i s

h o u s e

c o u l d accommodate

w i t h o u t i n c o n v e n i e n c e

a d d i t i o n a l

g u e s t s . He

and

h i s w i f e were

o f

a

s o c i a l d i s p o s i t i o n , and were n o t a v e r s e t o

h a v i n g

t h e companionship

o f

young p e o p l e ,

i f

o f

c o n g e n i a l t a s t e s .

1 Baum,

i . , 6 7 , i n s e r t s a

p a r t

o f t h e document, which

i s

i n t h e

g r e a t

c o l l e c t io n o f

t h e

l a t e

C o l ,

Henri

T r o n c h i n ,

a t

C - e n e v a ,



328 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

ment was a complete refutation

of

the malignant

accusations

of

B eza ' s en em i es .

This was

three

years

after

the Colloquy of Poissy.

To the

period

of the

colloquy

i t s e l f belongs a touch

ing incident of family history. The

Reformer

was

unexpectedly visited at court, probably at Saint

Germain, by his brother Nicholas, toward the

end

of September, or

at

the

beginning

of October, 1561.

The brother brought the intelligence that the

aged

father

—e

was seventy-six years ol d—

as

fast de

clining

in

health,

and

was

anxious to see his son

Theodore

at

Vezelay before he died.1 The latter

dutifully

promised to go there on his return

to

Geneva. But, as

we have

seen, the

return

was

long

deferred. The colloquy was followed by private

conferences,

the c onf erenc es by the Assembly of

Notables,

and

there

was no

one

whom

the

queen-

mother and the roya l c ounc il regarded i t more im

portant for the p e a c e of France to detain at

court

than Beza.

With

the p a s s a g e of

time,

Pierre

de

Beze

became

more

urgent.

In a letter written

to

his son in French, which Beza

translated

and inserted

in his own letter of November 25, 1561, to Calvin,

he

said :

" That you have not yet come, my son, I f o r g i v e , be

cause you have wisely placed public a f f a i r s before p r i

v a t e .

But see t o

i t that

you

remember

also

what

you

owe a

parent,

a nd

that

you do t h i s

as

soon a s

p o s s i b l e ,

when you s h a l l be permitted. I desire that your brother

a l s o , who i s t h e r e , should come with h i s w i f e , a nd that you

1

/W,,

i i . ,

4 5 8 ,



1 5 9 4 ] Later Years in

Geneva

329

should

summon

your wife also when you come. For I

have

resolved

i n

the

presence

of

you

a l l ,

my

children,

t o

make my

w i l l , and, i f

so i t

please God,

t o

d i e .

Conse

quently you w i l l

do me

a

grateful

service

i f

you

should

be able

t o bring

also from her monastery your s i s t e r , who

i s now my only daughter."

1

I t

was an unfortunate conclusion to

the

matter

that Beza and his father after

a l l

did not meet again.

The

c i v i l

war

broke out.

I t

became impossible

for

Beza

to traverse Burgundian territory, and the long-

looked-for opportunity never came to reach

Vezelay

before

his

father's death.

I

have said that Beza's burdens were somewhat

lessened as the years p a s s e d on. Let

i t

not be s up

posed, however, that they were,

until

the very l a s t ,

what

most

men

would

c a l l l i g h t . In a letter to

Melanchthon's

son-in-law,

Gaspard

Peucer,

written

in 1594, we find

a

few

lines telling us

what he could

and did

a c com p l i s h at seventy-five

years

of age.

" W ith the exception of a trembling of the hand

that

a lm os t p rev ents my

tracing

a l i n e ,

I

am well enough,

thank God

t o preach

every

Sunday

a nd

t o

deliver

every

fortnight my three theological l e c t u r e s . The auditorium

i s

pretty well

f i l l e d

for

these

trying

times.

I

am

over

whelmed

with occupations of different s o r t s

and i n f i n i t e

i n number—ot those which depend on my o f f i c e and

t o

which I

am

accustomed by virtue of i t , but occupa

tions that come every instant from without, d i f f i c u l t i e s

that

must absolutely be

met a nd solved,

of

whic h you

can

e a s i l y

imagine the

multitude

a nd importance

i n

t h i s

whirlwind

of war t h a t drags us

along. Thus

i t

i s that i n

'Te^

i n

Baum,

i i . ,

d o c u m e n t s ,

1 3 6 ,



33° Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

the

midst

of a g i t a t i o n s ,

I struggle

a nd

am nearing

the end

of

my

course,

with

my

s p i r i t

as

much

a s

possible

on

high."

1

Meanwhile

Beza found time

to give a careful

and

f i n a l revision

to

the French version

of

the Bible

i n common use

among Protestants.

This was essen

t i a l l y the translation made by Robert Olivetanus,

a

cousin

of John

Calvin,

regarding which the

most

interesting

circumstance

was

that

the

Waldenses

of

Piedmont, out of their deep

poverty,

had collected

the sum, enormous

for them, of

fifteen hundred

gold

crowns, to pay the

expenses of

the printing,

i n

1535,

by P a u l de Wingle,

in

the village

of Serrieres, near

Neufchatel.2 Calvin and

others

had laboured

to

perfect i t .

Now

Beza

and his

colleagues—

specially

Corneille

Bertram, who

hel d the chair of

Hebrew—

gave

i t

a

further

revision.

Thus

was

developed

the

famous " Bible of the Pastors and Professors of

Geneva, which,

from

1 5 8 8

on

to a l most our own

times, ha s p a s se d through a

multitude of

editions

and

exercised a

v a s t inf l uenc e on

successive genera

tions of readers. The

remarkable

preface was

written

by Beza

at the

request of

the

Venerable

Company

of P astors.3

The

Library

of Geneva

s t i l l

boasts

among i t s many objects of interes t a richly bound

copy of this Bible, bearing the arms of France and

1 I f i n d

t h i s

q u o t a t i o n

i n

C h a r l e s B o r g e a u d ' s

v a l u a b l e

monograph

on "Theodore Beza and t h e Academy o f Geneva" ( B u l l e t i n , x l v i i i .

[ 1 8 9 9 ] ,

6 4 ) , t o which I a m i n d e b t e d f o r a number o f i n t e r e s t i n g

p a r t i c u l a r s .

2

For

a f u l l e r

a c c o u n t ,

s e e R i s e

of

t h e Huguenots, i . ,

2 3 3 ; and

f o r

a

copy o f

t h e

t i t l e - p a g e , B u l l e t i n , i . , 8 2 ,

3

B u l l e t i n ,

x l v i i i . ,

6 5 - 6 7 ,



1 5 8 i ]

Later Years

in Geneva

33

1

Navarre, which the Council of the city had had p re

p a red

for

presentation

to

Henry

IV.

Its

companion

volume,

similarly

prepared

for his

s i s t e r , Catharine

of Bourbon, was graciously

a c ce pte d

by her.

But

Henry, when

his copy reached the court,

was about

to

abjure,

and the presentation, which would at the

time

have led to

embarrassing

complications, was

deferred until

some f avourable juncture might a r i s e ,

and

the

Bible ultima tel y

returned

to

Geneva.1

Of

a l l

the lectures in the University, those of

Beza

were naturally the best attended. The students of

a l l

the faculties made

i t

a point

to

be

present at

them, no

matter what

part

of the Bible he happened

to

be

commenting upon. I t was the Epistle of

P a ul

to the Romans when young Louis Iselin, in 1581,

wrote a

letter

to his uncle which has

come

down to

u s .

Beza's

lecture

hour

alone

was announced

by

the ringing of the bell of the c athed ra l of Saint

Pierre, as i f

calling to a religious function, and p re

cisely as

i t used

to ring for the

lectures

of John

Cal vin

before

t he Un iv e rs it y was instituted.2

Nor

was this strange.

Beza

was the f i r s t citizen

of

Geneva,

the

man who

was

always at

his

post,

however

i t

might

be

with

others,

the

one

man

whom

everybody went to see on arriving, and

again before

his

departure. No student

was

well

satisfied with

himself unless he took away a letter of commenda

tion from the ol d patriarch, o r , at the very l e a s t , an

album in which was inscribed his characteristic

signature with some verses kindly composed for the

1 I b i d . ,

u b i s u p r a .

B a e d e k e r , S w i t z e r l a n d ,

2 0 4 .

8

B u l l e t i n ,

x l v i i i . ,

6 3 , 6 4 .



332 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i ^ -

occaslon.1 In the esti mation of the

University and

of

the

burgesses,

and

not

l e s s i n

that

of

the

outside

world, Beza stood

for both

School and State.

Every

a p p e a l to foreig n princes or foreign commonwealths

for one

or

t he ot her either

originated

from

him or

was urged under his

patronage.

It was the

author

ity of his great name, the

memory

of his

great

serv

ices in the p a s t in behalf of Protestantism,

that

s ec ured the great results which flowed from the a p

peals,

the abundant

funds

which s a ve d

both

the

school

and the

commonwealth from

a d es truc tion

which

otherwise might

have

overtaken

both

almost

at any moment in a long

succession

of years. So

long as he lived, such was his high standing, such

were

his

relations with the P rotes ta nt s ov ereig ns of

Europe,

that they made of

him, as i t were, a

p er

manent

minister

of

foreign

a f f a i r s . *

In the year 1 5 88 Beza's wife died of the p l a gue

after a married l i f e of forty-four years. She was the

Claude or

C l a ud ine Desnoz whom he had es poused

secretly,

but before witnesses,

three or

four years

bef ore l ea v ing

Fra nc e, a fterwa rd s confirming and

ratifying his

engagements in

the presence of the

church, immediately upon his arriv al at Geneva.

' The union, although childless, had otherwise proved

a source of unmingled happiness. The wife, whom

he had married for love and in an irregular manner,

was devoted, affectionate, and helpful. Her

hus

band celebrated

her virtues and his

own grief in

a

1

An example o f

s u c h a n

i n s c r i p t i o n

by

Beza i n a s t u d e n t ' s album

i s r e p r o d u c e d i n f a c s i m i l e i n B u l l e t i n , x x x v i . , 8 3 ,

*

J J o r g e a u d ,

u b i

s u f r a ,

7 5

e t

p a s s i m ,



1 5 8 8 ]

Later Years in

Geneva 333

long (consolatory poem/ addressed to the eminent

Jacques

Lect,

a

member

of

the

Council

of

Geneva,

who,

not

long after

the death

of Beza's wife,

had

been called to

p a s s

through

a similar a f f l i c t i o n . 1

Not many months,

apparently,

after

Claudine's

s ud

den

death,

Beza married

a

second wife, Genevieve

del

Piano,

the

widow

of a

Genoese refugee.

Being

now in his seventieth year, and somewhat of a

victim

to

rheumatism, he

had

been

urged

to

this

step

by his friends, who wished to provide him with

a companion

in his

loneliness. As t he exp r es s ions

of his joy

over

his new union were moderate, so the

results were

satisfactory to the f u l l measure

of

his

wishes and prayers. 1

" Here again, esteemed friend a nd very dear brother,"

he

wrote

t o

Pastor

Grynaeus, of Basel,

August

2 0 ,

1588,

" here again, by the

advice

of f r i e n d s , a nd led by the

very

many

inevitable

i l l s

of old age t o

seek

for the

help

of another, I have returned to matrimony. I

have

taken

t o wife a widow approaching her f i f t i e t h year, so adorned,

according t o the testimony

of a l l

good

people, with

piety

and every

matronal

v i r t u e ,

that a wif e more

suitable and

more t o

my mind could not f a l l t o my l o t .

Regarding

t h i s

blessing

of

God

toward

me,

I

wish

you

to

render

thanks

t o Him with me,

and

t o join

your prayers

t o mine

that

the

sequel may

correspond t o t h i s

commencement.

2

Beza had no children by either of his wives.

The

even

tenor

of

the aged

Reformer's

later years

was interrupted by a curious attempt

at

conversion.

1 S c h l o s s e r h a s

i n s e r t e d

i t

i n h i s

Leben

d e s T h e o e o r d e B e z a , 2 9 0 .

I n e d i t e d

l e t t e r o f August

2 0 ,

1 5 8 8 . Copy i n

Baum C o l l e c t i o n ,

MSS.,

French

P r o t .

S o c i e t y .



334

Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i 9 -

Ayoung ecclesiastic of noble family, born at Sales,

a

castle

belonging

to

his

f amily

i n

the

neighbour

hood of

Annecy,

was at this

time engaged

in a b r i l

liant

work

of proselytism which

was to

render the

name of Francis of Sales famous throughout Christ

endom. I t ha s been the

boast

of his friends and

admirers,

that

by

his instrumentality

no

fewer than

seventy thousand Protestants, constituting almost

the entire population of the

district

of Chablais,

east

and

south

of

the

Lake

of

Geneva, were brought

into

the bosom of the Roman Catholic Church.

His

methods

have been represented as

purely

spiritual,

inspired by love and carried out in

gentleness.

In

reality they were an a p p e a l to worldly considera

tions, backed by a disp lay of military force

and

characterised by

cruelties s uch

as have rarely been

exceeded

in

the

history

of

religious

intolerance.

The conversion

of

Chablais was a

foretaste of

the

Revocation

of the E d i ct of Nantes; for the Dragon-

nades

of the

Duke of

Savoy were only the counter

part, on a smaller scale, of the " booted missions

organised under Louvois

and executed

by Foucault

and the other servile intendants of Louis XIV.

The future Saint Francis of

Sales was the

prototype

of

the

prelates

of

that

monarch's court.1

I t was while engaged in the

reduction

of the P ro

testants of Chablais that a s ugg es tion was made to

Francis of S al es tha t he should try his

s k i l l

i n

bring

ing over to Roman Catholicism

Theodore

Beza,

the hero of many an intellectual contest and the

famous Protestant champion. Beza was born in

1

S e e

The

Huguenots

and Henry

of

Navarre,

i i . ,

4 7 2 ,

4 7 3 .



F R A N C I S

OF S A L E S .





1 5 9 7 ]

Later Years

in Geneva 335

15

1 9 ,

early in the century. S ales was

born

in 1567,

when

two

thirds of

the sixteenth

century

had

elap sed

In

1

597, the former was

consequently

almost an octo

genarian, the

latter

was

barely thirty

years old.

What a

triumph

would

i t be i f

the

experienced

Goliath

of the heretics were to

be overthrown by

a

well-directed pebble from the sling of the youthful

David

Francis of Sales was moved to make the attempt

by a p a p a l brief

of

which

his

nephew

ha s

given us a

translation

:

" Dear And Well-beloved S on : We have been i n

formed

of the piety

that i s i n

you a nd the

zeal

you have

f o r the

honour

of

God,

a thing

that

has been

agreeable

t o

u s .

The messenger

w i l l

intimate t o you i n

our name

certain matters which

concern

the

glory

of God and

which

we

have

much a t

h e a r t .

You

w i l l

employ

herein

a l l

the diligence which

we

promise ourselves from

your

prudence a nd affection

t o the

Holy See. At

Rome,

October 1 , 1596."

All

accounts

agree that Francis of Sales made

several v i s i t s

to Beza at

his

home

in the

city of

Geneva,

and that

he was met

with

kindness.

Beza

was,

says Auguste de Sales, the future saint's

nephew

and biographer,

a

handsome ol d

man

of

about seventy years,

who

affected a n appearance

• o f

gravity

;

and his v i s i t o r ,

on

entering

his abode,

did not forget the dictates of civility in saluting

him, as also Beza received him very courteously."

According

to the same authority, Francis introduced

the

conversation

with

a

j e s t ,

of

no

great

merit

cer



336

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 t 9 -

tainly, but

sufficient

to draw a hearty laugh

from his

indulgent

host.

It

consisted

in

a

p l a y

of

words,

made on

the s pur

of

the moment, upon an

in

scription

which had

caught

the

guest's eye

below a

portrait

of

Beza's gre at p r ed ec es s or. By the slight

change of two or three words in the Latin verses,

Francis of Sales, without marring the metre, had

made Geneva from "

h a p p i l y

to insanely " listen

ing to the words of her great teacher Calvin, and

that

teacher's writings

condemned, in

p l a ce of

celebrated," by the pious throughout the world.

From t r i v i a l i t i e s the

talk

turned to things

more

serious, and Francis of Sales plied Beza with the

question

so

commonly raised

in

contemporaneous

controversy

with Protestants,

whether a

man could

not

be

s a ve d in the

Roman

Catholic Church.

To

this

Beza

promptly answered

that

a

man

might

thus

be saved,

not,

however, by means of that multitude

of ordinances and

ceremonies with

which Christ's

teachings had been overlaid. A discussion ensued

on

the subject

of

good

works which

would be im

material

to our purpose,

even

could we know

with

certainty what was

really

s a i d . 1

Francis did not

f a i l to

report this interview to

Pope Clement

VIII.,

in

words reproduced by

his

nephew

:

" I began by entertaining good hopes of the conver

sion of the f i r s t of Calvinistic h e r e t i c s . With

t h i s

object

i n view,

I entered

Geneva

several times,

but nev er ha d

1 V i e

d e F r a n c o i s d e S a l e s ,

p ar

s o n n e v e u , Auguste d e

S a l e s

( 1 6 3 2 ) ,

1 3 3 , i n

M. G a b e r e l ' s

a r t i c l e , " T e n t a t i o n d e Theodore d e Beze p a r

F r a n c o i s d e

S a l e s , "

B u l l e t i n ,

v i i i . ,

1 5 , 1 6 .



1 5 9 7 ] Later Years in Geneva 337

the l e a s t opportunity to speak

t o

the

man

i n private

;

u n t i l

f i n a l l y ,

three

days

a f t e r

Easter,

I

found

him

alone

a nd did my very b e s t . But h i s

heart

was not moved.

He

i s

altogether stony, being inveterate i n h i s hardness,

a s the r e s u l t of a long s e r i e s of years miserably spent.

Perhaps I s h a l l bring him back to

the

fold

; but

what i s

t o be

done

?

"

To

which the

pontiff

replied

in

his letter of

May

29,

1597:

"

Your zeal i s worthy

of a

s erv ant of God. We ap

prove wha t you have

done

u n t i l

now,

i n the matter of

bringing

back

the

l o s t sheep. We passionately seek t h i s

divine work.

Prosecute

therefore, with the help of the

grace of God,

what

you have begun." 1

Thus encouraged, Francis repeated his v i s i t and

entered

upon

new

discussions,

invol v i ng the question

of good works

and the

authority of

the Holy

See.

In

the

course

of the conversation, as he reported,

Theodore Beza made

the remark:

As for

myself,

i f I

am not in the right way

I

p r a y to God every

day that

He will lead me

into it." The

words,

for

some

reason or other, gave his visitor fresh hope,

possibly because they were accompanied by a sigh.

In

a

third

interview

he

returned

to

the

charge.

His

panegyrists regard

i t

as a signal

proof

of his courage

that he

thrice

exposed himself to the peril

of

enter

ing

Geneva and

encountering enemies

enraged at

him by

his

previous v i s i t s ; though certain i t i s

that

never was

he safer in

his

l i f e

than

he

was within

i t s

walls. I t was on this occasion that,

approaching

1

I b i d . ,

1 3 6 ,

i n

B u l l e t i n ,

v i i i . ,

1 7 .




Beza,

as his

nephew

t e l l s u s ,

De Sales

made

a n

extraordinary

s pee ch

:

" S i r , you are doubtless agitated

by many

thoughts,

a nd since you recognise the truth of the

Catholic

r e

l i g i o n , I do

not

doubt that

you have the

wish t o

return

t o

h e r . S he c a l l s you

t o

enter

her p a l e .

But i t may be

that you fear l e s t , should you return

t o

h e r ,

the

comforts

of l i f e may f a i l you.

Ah

s i r ,

i f that be a l l ,

according

t o the

assurance I

have received from H is

Holiness, I

bring you

the

promise of

a

pension

of

four thousand

crowns

of

gol d ev ery

y e a r .

In

addition,

a l l your e f f e c t s

w i l l be paid

for

a t double the p rice a t which you value

them." 1

Up to this point we may believe Francis of S ales' s

nephew. Another biographer, Marsollier, writing

in

the present

century,

in

a

notice

prefixed

to

the

complete works of

Saint

Francis of

Sales,

asserts

that, convinced

of

Beza's friendly

dispositions to

ward

him and

resolved

to take

advantage

of them,

Francis informed the Reformer that he had brought

with him a pontifical b r i e f , recently received, in which

Beza was offered a n honourable refuge wherever he

might

choose

to

go,

a

pension

of

four

thousand

gold

crowns,

the

payment

for his

furniture

and books at

his

own valuation, in fine a l l

the

security he might

judge

proper

to exact."

Up to this

point,

I repeat,

we

c a n believe

nar

ratives possibly

the one a reproduction

of

the

other, but both from Roman Catholic

sources.

I t

1 B u l l e t i n , v i i i . , 1 9 .

1

M a r s o l l i e r ,

q u o t e d

i n B u l l e t i n ,

v i i . ,

2 2 7 .



t 5 9 7 ]

Later Years in Geneva 339

i s otherwise,

however, when

Auguste de Sales

makes

poor

Beza

remain

speechless

with

his

eyes

fixed

upon the ground, and then confess that the

Roman Church was the

mother

Church, but add

that he did not despair of being s a ve d in the religion

wherein he was. Whereupon the future saint

gave up

the

case as

lost

and

returned to Thonon.

Fortunately there

are

other accounts that have more

verisimilitude

and do

l e s s

violence

to

our

knowledge

of

Beza's

manly

dignity, to which

his nearly four

score years had lent a s t i l l

greater t i t l e to respect.

" When,

adds

a Genevese manuscript, "

Beza

heard

these

odious words, a

severe majesty replaced on

h i s

countenance the kindly cordiality with which he ha d

been speaking t o the young

p r i e s t . He

pointed t o h i s

library

shelves

e m p t y

of

books

;

f o r

these

had

been

sold

t o defray the expenses o f the

support

of a

number

of

French

refugees.

Then

conducting h i s

v i s i t o r

t o the

door, he took leave of

him

with the words : ' Vade

r e t r o ,

Satanas '—Get thee behind me,

Satan '

"

And an oral tradition makes Beza conclude his leave-

taking with the trenchant observation: Go, s i r , I

am

too

ol d

and

deaf

to

be

able to

give

ear to

s uch

words

1

But whatever

may

have been the p a r

ticular form of De S al es 's d is mis sa l, this much i s

certain, that

he

returned whence

he came

without

having effected

his purpose. Unfortunately he or

his

friends

had boasted of his victory

before i t

was

won. Therefore the news was

s pread throughout

Europe

that De Sales

was about

to

lead his

aged

1

G a b e r e l ' s

a r t i c l e i n

B u l l e t i n , v i i i .

,

1 9 .



34°


convert in triumph

to be reconciled to

Mother Holy

Church at

the

See

of

Saint

Peter.

Crowds

waited

at Siena and elsewhere on the road to Rome for the

edifying spectacle, but waited in vain. Beza never

c a me. Others reported the story differently. The

arch-heretic, Calvin's successor, had died , forsooth,

but, before

his

death, he had recanted in the p re

sence

of the Council

of Geneva,

had

begged

them

to

be

reconc il ed to

the

Romish

Church

and

to

send

for

the

Jesuits,

and had

himself received absolution by

special

order from

the

Po p e , at

the hands of the

( t i t u l a r ) Bishop of

Geneva, Francis

of

Sales. Where

fore,

after

Beza's death, the

city

sent to Rome

a n

embassage of submission. It

i s

Sir Edwin Sandys

that

gives

u s ,

in

his

E u rop c e S p e c ul um ,

this

amusing

account of the death-bed conversion of the Re

former,

who

did

not

die

for

a

good

period

of

eight

years yet, and of the

ambassadors

of Geneva, yet

invisible." 1 The Jesuits

took part

in the matter by

printing a document which Lestoile, in

his Journal,

says began with the words: Geneva, mother and

refuse

of heresies, now at length that Beza i s

dead,

embraces the Catholic faith." As for Beza himself,

thus

quickly

blotted

out

of

existence

by

po pu l ar

rumour and inimical pamphleteers,

i t

seemed

good

to

him

to vindicate both his own

existence

and his

honour, by publishing a letter that

v ery yea r

and

over his own name,

f u l l

of the ol d sprightliness and

setting

forth with

relentless

s a r c a s m the shameless

inventions

of

the members

of

the " company of

1

E u r o p c e S p e c u l u m , I I I .

The Huguenots and Henry of

Navarre,

i i . , 4 7 0 , 4 7 1 .



1 5 9 5 ]

Later Years in

Geneva

341

monks that lyingly assume the name of Jesus."

This

and

a pungent epigram called out by the same

circumstances

are

among the

very l a s t

of the p ro

ducts

of Beza's pen that

have

come down

to

u s . 1

But

up

to the end of his

l i f e

the

passion

for l e t

ters

continued,

and

now

that the

time

for

sustained

labours

had clearly

passed, i t

was chiefly

in

poetry

that he continued to d iv ert him sel f, the

epigram

which had

been

the

p a s time

of

his

youth

thus

be

coming

the

solace of his ol d age.

The

homeliest

circumstance

of

every-day l i f e afforded subject

enough

for verses

—atin

verses, of course

—n

which

the

t r i v i a l

occurrence

was turned to spiritual

account and made to bear a

higher

interpretation.

In the

freedom

of familiar corres pondence

with

his

ol d friend,

Grynaeus,

the pastor of Basel, he jots

down,

for

example, the fact

that

that very

morning

of

his

seventy-sixth birthday,

his

aged servant

had

greeted him

on

awaking with news

from the

poultry-

yard.

Ahen had been bought a month before and

had been lost sight of at

once;

she just now

ap

pears, but not

alone;

fifteen

l i t t l e chickens,

her p ro

geny, follow and

crowd about

her.

" You s e e , " he writes t o Grynaeus, " by t h i s homely

incident how unconventionally I t r e a t you.

I

gave

thanks f o r t h i s increase of wealth t o the Author of a l l

good, a nd

I

s aw

i n

i t—

h a l l I

t e l l you ?—ithout regard

ing

myself i n

t h i s a s

being g u i l t y

of superstition

—

he

presage

of

some special favour. I even

composed

on

t h i s subject an

epigram,

and I send i t

t o

you, i n

order

' Heppe, 3 1 5 ,



342

Theodore

Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

not

t o leave

you a stranger t o these l i g h t

relaxations

of

my

mind."

The

eight v ers es

enclosed

were

of faultless

Latinity,

but

need

not

be

transcribed

here.

The thought was

si m p le but pious. The hen bought but a month

ago rewards her purchaser, who expended for her

but ten sous,

with

a whole brood of

young.

"

And

I ,

O

Christ

f u l l

of

benignity,

what

fruits have

I

re

turned to Thee in the s eve nty- s ix years that

I

have

liv ed until

now ? 1

I t was five years later ( 16 00) tha t a nobleman from

Guyenne, happening to p a s s through Geneva on his

way back from Rome

in

company with the physician

of the King of Morocco, as

Florimond

de Raemond

relates, called

upon

Beza. The patriarch,

now

p a st

fourscore,

received

his

visitors

with

a l l

his

old-time

dignity,

courtesy,

and a f f a b i l i t y .

He

was

clad

i n a

long tunic that came down almost to his feet and

girt with a l ea thern belt held by a large buckle i n

front. His

beard was long

and grey. His

hair

reached

his

well-turned

shoulders.

Upon

his

head

was

a broad hat of generous

dimensions.

Alto

gether the sketch

drawn by Raemond's

pen

i s

a

counterpart

of the famous portrait that s t i l l hangs

in the P ubl ic Library of Geneva.

Beza had been writing, and s t i l l held in his hand

some

leaves of

p a p e r on which his visitors

could

see

verses written and re-written

with

many

erasures,

and when he looked up and greeted them at their

1

Ad .

S c h a e f f e r ,

Les

Huguenots

du

i ( f

S t e e l e ,

1 5 0 .

B u l l e t i n ,

i i i .

,

1 4 6 ,



i 6 o o ] Later Years in

Geneva

343

coming

i n , he

remarked as

he c a lled their attention

to

the

l i n e s ,

"

This

i s

the

way that

I

beguile

my

time " I t i s a pleasant view to

which

the historian

introduces

u s ,

of

a

man

of magnificent natural en

dowments

and magnificent achievements i n Church

and State, placidly occupying the enforced leisure

of

ol d

age,

and

striving

to

forget

the a il ments of a

suffering body, by the composition of

unpretending

stanzas,

for

the

amusement

of

himself

or

the

chance

friend

that might

drop

i n . Not so i n the opinion

of

his

suspicious v i s i t o r . We hardly know whether

we should

rather

be diverted by

the

s i l l i n e s s

or

be

disgusted

by

the

malignant

suggestions of the

"

nobleman

from Guyenne.

He could

not

read

the

verses Beza

had

been scribbling,

and therefore

used to s ay that he was in doubt

whether

they were

of

a n

amatory

character

or

not

;

but,

at any

rate,

he

sighed and

said

to

himself: Alas Does

this

holy

man, with one foot already i n Charon's bark, so

spend his ol d a ge Is this the sort of meditations

with

which

a theologian

occupies

himself "

1

Meanwhile,

though a p parently

retired

from

active

participation

i n

a f f a i r s whether

of

Church or

of Sta te,

Beza

did

not

f a i l

to

exert

himself

to

good

purpose

where

anything

could be

done by him either for the

advantage of the cause of religion

or

for the

good

of the

republic

of Geneva. Henry IV., in

particu

l a r ,

entertained for him a reverence and accorded to

him a consideration which even the events of the

unfortunate Abjuration, and Beza's manly

frankness

in rebuking

that

Abjuration,

had

been unable

to d i s -

1 Florimond d e Raemond, i i . , 6 3 5 , 6 3 6 ,



344 Theodore

Beza

[ 1 5 1 9 -

turb. Nominal Roman Catholic that he was, the

tone

of

his

corres pondence

was

unaltered.

" Monsieur

de

Beze,"

he w r i t e s ,

February 9 , 1599, "

I

have

heard with

much

s a t i s f a c t i o n of

your

continued

good-will

towards

me, a nd that you lose

no

opportunity

t o exercise i t f o r the advantage of my

a f f a i r s . This i n

creases s t i l l more the favour which I have always

borne

you, a nd while waiting t o display i t in deeds, I ha v e been

desirous t o assure you anew by t h i s message, that you

could not seek for i t s manifestation f o r yourself or for

others i n a ny matter

i n

whic h y ou w i l l not find me greatly

disposed

t o

g r a t i f y you. Meantime I

pray God t o have

you, Monsieur d e

Beze,

i n H is holy

guard.

This ninth

of

February, a t Gandelu."

1

Nor

were

these

empty

words,

as

the

event

proved.

In

1600, Henry, when starting

out

upon

his Ital ian

campaign,

p a s se d near

Geneva,

and encamped, at

the distance of two leagues from that city, before

the fort known as Sainte-Catherine. This f o r t ,

originally erected by the Duke of Savoy, had been

a

source of great

annoyance and

anxiety to

the

Genevese,

ever

suspicious,

and not without

good

reason,

of their

neighbour and

enemy.

When

the

syndic and deputies of the city

went

ou t

to con

gratulate

the monarch, the latter inquired very

kindly regarding the health of Theodore Beza and

expressed a desire to see h i m ' . D e s pi te his years,

the Reformer promptly hastened to pay Henry his

respects, and greeted him with a short address in t h e .

1

B u l l e t i n , x x x v i . ,

7 7 .



i 6 o o ] Later Years in Geneva 345

name of the pastors,

which

could not have been

better

received.

"

My father,"

Henry r e p l i e d ,

addressing

the Protestant

patriarch

i n

the

hearing

of

a l l ,

"

your

few

words s i g n i f y

much,

being

worthy of the

reputation

for

eloquence

which M. de Beze has gained. I take them v ery kind ly

a nd with

a l l

the

tender feelings

they deserve."

And

then

upon

the

very

spot

he

granted

to

the

Genevese what Beza and his fellow-citizens had

asked.

"

I want

t o do for you,"

he

s a i d , "

a l l that may

be t o

your

c onv enienc e. Fort

Sainte-Catherine

s h a l l

be

torn

down,

a nd here," pointing t o the

Duke

of

S u l l y , . who

stood by, " i s a man i n whom you may t r u s t with good

reason,

and t o

whom

I

now

issue

my

commands.

1

The s pee ch was the

more remarkable

as a

testimony

of a ff ec tion

and

esteem

because Henry had styled

Beza

"father,"

a

t i t l e which, as Benoist observes,

i s

l i t t l e used by Protestants i n addressing their pastors,

but upon which the monks pride themselves and

which they have, as i t were, appropriated to them

selves

among the

Roman

Catholics.2

They

were

consequently scarcely

l e s s

indignant when the king

applied

i t

to

Beza

than

they

were a year

l a t e r ,

when,

before restoring Fort

Sainte-Catherine

to

the

Duke of

Sa voy,

according to the terms of the treaty

of peace, he secretly

allowed

the inhabitants of

Geneva to destroy

the walls with their own hands,

1 B u l l e t i n , x x x v i . , 7 2 , based on S p o n .

8

B e n o i s t ,

H i s t o i r e d e l ' £d i ( d e N a n t e s , i . , 3 5 8 ,



346 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 i 9 -

a

permission

of

which

they

availed themselves so

gladly

that,

when

the moment

arrived

for

turning

the fort over to

their

hereditary

enemy,

there was

not

one

stone upon another where the walls had

lately stood.1

The perils to which Geneva was exposed were not

dissipated by the overthrow of Fort

Sainte-Cather-

i n e , for Charles Emmanuel was a n implacable foe

whose treacherous

attempts upon

the republic

ended

only with

his l i f e .

He made l i t t l e account

of com

pa cts or

of treaties of

peace.

Scarcely had two

years ela ps ed

since

'Henry's v i s i t

when

a new and

more

formidable cons piracy was set

on

foot. The

Savoyard frontier

at that time

ran

closer

to Geneva

than the

French

.frontier does

at

present; the c an

ton having gained

a considerable

accession of t e r r i

tory

and

population

in

the

nineteenth

century.

An

army secretly massed on the

border

could traverse

the

intervening s p a c e

and rea ch the walls by a

few

minutes' march. This i s

what occurred

on the

night

of

December

21, 1602,

one

of the l onges t, a s

i t

i s a p t

to

be one of the

darkest, nights

of the

year.

There were eight thousand soldiers in the force that

stealthily approached the fortifications, preceded by

their four g eneral s and a picked body of troops. I t

i s

said

that as

the

ladders were raised

and the

a d

v ance -guard began to

c li mb in the

most

profound

silence,

the Savoyards were

encouraged by

the

whispers

of the Jesuit

missionaries in

attendance,

who said: Climb boldly; every round i s a step

heavenward The project had almost proved a

1

S e e

Huguenots

and Henry

of

Navarre,

i i . ,

4 6 9 .



1 6 0 2 ]

Later

Years

in

Geneva

347

complete success, for no

one

on the inside had p er

ceived

them,

when

a

sentinel

on

guard

gave

the

alarm by

discharging his musket. Two hundred

men had already scaled the walls and stood on the

ramparts. Afew soldiers had actually entered the

c i t y . The main body was approaching the gate

which

a

traitor had

agreed to open

to

them.

But

a Vaudois, Mercier by name,

thwarted

the plot by

his

presence

of mind

and

l e t

the

portcullis

f a l l .

The

citizens, awakened from

their sleep, rushed

to

meet

such of the enemy as had

penetrated

into the

streets, and

slew

to the number of three hundred of

the assailants. The

survivors

were p ut to f l i g h t ,

and retired to Sa voy. Sixty-seven that were taken

prisoners were afterwards ruthlessly beheaded. Of

the Genevese there were but s ev e ntee n k i l l e d .

The

conflict

over,

the

p eo p l e

flocked

to

the

church

of Saint Pierre

to

render

thanks to Almighty God

for

His

wonderful interposition in

their

behalf.

In

the religious

services

Theodore Beza,

notwithstand

ing

his advanced

age

and

bodily feebleness,

took

the

most prominent part. At

his

bidding the worship

pers with one accord

chanted

the

words of

the one

hundred

and

twenty-fourth

p s a l m ,

turned

into

verse

by the

Reformer himself a

half-century before,

than

which

no

jubilant words more appropriate to the

occasion could

have been found in a collection that

lends i t s e l f

wonderfully

to the

expression

of every

p h a s e of human experience.

"

I f

i t ha d

n o t

been

t h e Lord

who was

on

o u r

s i d e ,

Now may

I s r a e l s a y ;

I f i t ha d

n o t

been

t h e

Lord who was

on o u r s i d e ,




When men

r o s e

up

a g a i n s t

u s

;

Then

t h e y

ha d

swallowed

u s

up

q u i c k ,

When

t h e i r wrath

was

k i n d l e d a g a i n s t u s .

"

B l e s s e d

be

t h e

L o r d , who h a t h

n o t g i v e n

u s

As a p r e y t o t he ir t ee th .

Our s o u l i s

e s c a p e d a s a b i r d o u t o f t h e s n a r e o f t h e

f o w l e r s ;

T he

s n a r e

i s broken and we

a r e

e s c a p e d .

Our h e l p i s

i n t h e

name

o f t h e

L o r d ,

Who

made

heaven

and

e a r t h . "

On every recurring

anniversary of

The

E s c a l a de ,"

from that day

to t h i s ,

the

same

psalm i s

joyfully

sung in Saint Pierre at the commemorative services;

and the visitor sees upon one of the bas-reliefs of a

fountain erected in 1857, on the Rue des Allemands,

and

known as The Monument of

the E s c a l a d e , " a

representation of

Theodore

Beza in the act of re

turning

thanks

to

God.1

1

D a g u e t ,

H i s t ,

d e l a

C o n f e d e ' r a t i o n

S u i s s e ,

3 5 6 . B a e d e k e r ,

Swit

z e r l a n d , 2 0 1 .



CHAPTERXX

CLOSING

DAYS

1605

HONOUREDor his long years of service, revered

for his signal piety and the virtues that had

characterised his entire l i f e , held i n special venera

tion as the sole survivor of the group of Reformers

that

glorified

the

f i r s t

half of

the

sixteenth century,

and

now

by his

very

as pect recalling

a n

a ge long

since

passed,

Theodore Beza s pent the remnant of

his earthly existence in placid contentment and

with a happy anticipation of the rewards of the

heavenly.

As his

infirmities

increased, so

also

multiplied the

sedulous attentions

of his

devoted

friends

and

of

his

colleagues

i n Church and

Univers

i t y .

A touching evidence of

affection

and s o l i c i

tude

was given in the resolution adopted by his

brethren of the ministry, a few months before the

end, to the effect

that at

least two of their number

should v i s i t him daily, to

inquire

respecting

his

health,

and to minister

s uch comfort

as

they might

be

able. Thus as the

flame

of l i f e flickered in the

socket

before quite

going

out,

there

were

always

3 4 9



35° Theodore Beza [ i 5 i g -

friendly eyes that watched with

mingled

hope and

f e a r .

When

for

a

brief

moment

he

seemed

to

be

snatched from

the

borders of

the grave,

there

sat

by

his side those

from

whose l i p s the precious as

surances

of the

Gospel were doubly

precious,

be

cause

recalled

by

friends

with

whom he had enjoyed

sweet communion in the past. On Saturday,

Octo

ber 1 2 , 1605, he listened with folded hands and with

evident joy,

as his

colleague La Faye

recited

the

words

of

S aint P a ul ,

" Therefore, being

justified

by

f a i t h , we have p e a c e

with

God through

our

Lord

Jesus Christ,"

and discoursed res pecting God's grace

to the called according to

His

purpose, whom

He

ha s

justified and glorified. On the morrow, the l a s t

day of his l i f e , he awoke feeling so much relieved of

suffering

that

he

rose,

allowed himself to be dressed,

offered

his

morning

prayer,

took

a

few

steps,

and

ate

a l i t t l e

food.

I t was

characteristic

that his

l a s t

thoughts before the end

came

were directed

to

his

beloved

Geneva,

which for i t s own sake, and as the

representative of the cause of the truth, had long

been

dearer

to him

than l i f e i t s e lf . "

Is

the

city

i n

f u l l

safety

and quiet

?

"

he

asked.

Then, on receiv

ing

an affirmative answer, he suddenly sank

down,

losing

strength and consciousness at once, and

in

a

f ew minutes p a s s e d peacefully away, while sorrowing

friends prayed about his bedside.1

A great man, indeed, had

f a l l e n ,

over whose mor

t a l remains

a l l

that

was highest

and best i n

Church

or State

in Geneva

did

well

to

weep,

deploring the

loss

that

both State and Church had sustained.

1

Heppe,

3 1 6 ,

3 1 7 .



Quod

nau'gantibus

e f t

portus,hoc

migratio

in

aliam

vitam.

i i s , quorum

pretiofa

mors in oculis Domini. Quum i g i t u r , he-

fternadie, magnum

illudEcclefia:

lumen,

R. vir D.

Theodorus

Beza, annis confeftus, ex

hac

momentanea 8C

srumnofa vica

ad

illam,

in qua e f t

,

fine

perturbatione

, sterna f e l i c i t a s ,

placide

tranflatusftt,hodie veto fepultura

mandandus, rogantur,Pafto-

rum ac

P rofef lbrum nomine' ,

Uluftres ac

Generofi

Domini Co-

mitesJBarones,

Nobiles, omnes denique litterarum ftudiofi,qui

in hac Academia verfantur , vchodie , hora duodecima ,

poftre-

mum

hunc

honorem,tanto viro,ac tarn

p ie

defun&o, debitum,

tribuant,vt

funus

ipfius

profequantur.

Cujus quidemcorpiis,vc

omnium in

Chrifto defun&orum , e a r « ' p s ^ ) c*<ôpa ,«j8p9»W^ )

§

on

dQS.aqoia.

:

i t a

v t neque mors , neque vita , nos fcparet ab lQa

diledtionc , qua Dcus fuos prosequitur in Domino noftro left

Chrifto

, qui

fuos

a morte ad vitam

t r a n f i n i t r i t , .

Obiit

X 1 1 1 ,

die O&obris

,

anni

C

I

o, loc.

V.

N O T I C E

OF B E Z A ' S

DE ATH AND I N V I T A T I O N TO TH E

F U N E R A L .

R E D U C E D

F R O M

O N L Y

K N O W N

C O P Y

I N L I B R A R Y

O F T H E

F R E N C H

P R O T E S T A N T H I S T O R I C A L

S O C I E T Y ,

A T P A R I S .



S t LIBRA/*.

OF T H E r

IVERSITY



i6od Closing Days ' 35*

There i s s t i l l in existence, s a ve d by one of those

strange

freaks

of

fortune

which

occasionally

p re

s erv e the

most fragile

of shells

through

the mid s t

of

the storms that d a s h

to

pieces the

most

strongly

built frigate,

a copy of the s im p l e notice that sum

moned the friends to attend the l a s t r i t e s in Beza's

honour. It runs thus in translation :

" What the

haven

i s t o those that s a i l , that i s the r e

moval

into

another

l i f e

t o

those

whose

death

i s

precious

i n

the

eyes

of the Lord.

Inasmuch, therefore,

a s yester

d ay that great l i g h t of the Church, that reverend man,

Doctor Theodore Beza, worn out with y e a r s , wa s peace

f u l l y translated

from t h i s transitory

and wretched l i f e

t o

that other

l i f e

i n

which there

i s eternal blessedness

f r e e

from disquietude, a nd

inasmuch a s he

i s

t h i s da y t o be

consigned t o b u r i a l , the

i l l u s t r i o u s

a nd generous l o r d s ,

counts, barons, nobles,

a l l

i n

f i n e that

a p p l y them sel v es

t o l e t t e r s

now present

i n

t h i s

Academy,

are i n v i t e d ,

i n

the

name of

the

Pastors a nd Professors, to-day a t noon,

t o p ay

t h i s

l a s t honour d ue t o

so

great

a

man a nd one

that has died i n so pious

a

manner, a nd

t o

attend

h i s

f u n e r a l . Whose body indeed, l i k e a s the bodies of

a l l

that die i n C h r i s t ,

i s sown

i n corruption, but s h a l l be

raised i n incorruption

:

i n such

wise

that neither death

nor l i f e s h a l l separate us from the love which i s

i n

Jesus

Christ our Lord, who translates H is children from

death

t o

l i f e . He

died on

the

thirteenth

of

October, 1605." 1

In imitation of his

great master, John Calvin,

and

1

The o r i g i n a l

o f t h i s mortuary n o t i c e

i s

i n t h e

l i b r a r y

o f t h e

French

P r o t e s t a n t H i s t o r i c a l S o c i e t y i n P a r i s .

A

f a c s i m i l e i s

p r i n t e d i n t h a t

S o c i e t y ' s

B u l l e t i n , x x x v i . ( 1 8 8 7 ) ,

8 1 ,

and i s h e r e w i t h

r e p r o d u c e d .



35 2 Theodore Beza [ 1 5 1 9 -

in accordance

with the

city

ordinances,

Theodore

Beza,

before

his

death,

had

expressed

a

wish

that

his body should be interred in the public cemetery

of

Plainpalais,

outside the walls.

His preference

was disregarded,

and

the magistrates

ordered that

the p l a ce of buria l

be in

the

heart

of

Geneva

i t s e l f .

I t was not

so

much for the s ake of conferring

su

perior honour upon the great

theologian

and leader

that this

resolution

was reached, as

to

forestall the

possibility

of

danger

to

the

republic.

A

watchful

enemy was in the neighbourhood, and might take

advantage of the moment when a l l

Geneva's

best

citizens and most valiant soldiers should have gone

forth accompanying

Beza's remains to

the

grave,

to

make

a sudden

attack upon

the defenceless

place.

Moreover,

there were

rumours

that the enemies of

the

Reformer

intended

at

a

later

time

to

disinter

his

c orp s e a nd , i f they exposed i t to no other indignity,

to ca rry i t

o f f in

triumph

to Rome.

Accordingly,

i t

was to the

buildings then

known as the

cloisters

of

the

cathedral church of Saint Pierre that Beza's body

was carried on t he s hou ld er s of his former students,

and was there

laid

to

rest

within a stone's throw of

the sac red edifice where he had for so many years

lectured

and

preached.

S tra nge

as

i t

may

a p pear,

during the course

of

the eig hteenth

century the

c l o i s t e r s , having fallen into

a ruinous

condition,

were

torn down, and the tomb of Beza shared in the

de

molition. Whither his remains were taken i s

un

known. I t i s as impossible for the visitor to Geneva

at the

present

time to

discover

the l a s t resting-place

of

Theodore

Beza,

the

pupil,

as

to

identify

the



1 6 0 5 ] Closing

Days

353

humble and unmarked gr a ve of his master, John

Calvin,

at P l ainp a lais.1

Church and

State

pledged

themselves

to one

another

over

Beza's grave to

concord and a

union of

effort for the welfare of Geneva. Speaking through

his

successor

in

the moderator's chair, the Venerable

Company recalled to memory the

fact that

the Re

former had been not only a shining

light

in the

house of the Lord, but a wall of

defence

to the re

public

of Geneva, which owed to his

prevalent

inter

cession every honour and ev ery f a vour which i t had

received

at

the hands of foreign princes.

And

the

syndic who

responded

in

the name of the

magis

tracy, reciprocated the hope that, for the advantage

of

the

common country, there

might

ever

subsist a

good understanding

between Church and State.

To

the

accomplishment

of

this

end,

he

urged

that

a l l should

walk i n the footsteps of

those

two great

men, John Cal vin and Theodore

Beza,

who had so

h a p p i l y s erv ed the interests of the commonwealth.

1

C h a r l e s

B o r g e a u d ,

i n B u l l e t i n ( f o r F e b r u a r y , 1 8 9 9 ) , x l v i i i . , 5 8 , 5 9 .

2 G a b e r e l , i n Heppe, 3 1 6 - 3 1 8 .

B o r g e a u d ,

u b i s u p r a , x l v i i i . , 5 7 - 7 6 .





APPENDIX

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL LETTER OF BEZA TO

WOLMAR

P r e f i x e d

t o h i s

"

C o n f e s s i o n

o f t h e

C h r i s t i a n

F a i t h , "

and

p r i n t e d

i n

t h e f i r s t volume

o f

t h e

T r a c t a t i o n e s T h e o l o g i e c æ , s e c o n d e d i t i o n ,

r e v i s e d

b y

t h e

a u t h o r [ G e n e v a ] , 1 5 8 2 .

HEODORE

BEZA,

of Vezelay,

t o

Melior

[Mel-

1 chior] Wolmar Rufus, h i s most respected preceptor

a nd parent, grace a nd peace from the Lord.

As often a s I

r e c a l l

my past l i f e (and t h i s I do very

frequently

a s

i s

meet),

so often

d o

your

numberless

a c t s

o f kindness t o

me

necessarily come

into

my thoughts.

And although

I c an i n no way make you an adequate

return, yet

am

I resolved t o cherish them as becomes a

man who i s grateful a nd mindful of benefits received.

Since,

then,

i t

ha s p l ea sed me t o

c a l l

t h i s l i t t l e

book

a

Confession,

—ha v e d ec id ed t o join t o

the

profession

o f

my f a i t h the narrative of my previous l i f e , a nd indeed

t o

commence

a t

the

very

beginning.

For

I

hope

you

w i l l s u f f e r me, a s i t were, t o become a boy again

i n

repeat

ing matters the narration of which

I

t r u s t w i l l not be

irksome t o you nor useless t o myself.

I t

pleased Almighty God that

I

should f i r s t see the

l i g h t of

t h i s

world

i n

the year of our Lord 1519, on the

twenty-fourth

of June, the

d a y consecrated as

the

birth

d ay of John

the

Baptist, a nd i n

Vezelay, the

ancient c i t y

of

the

^ f i d i i i .

My

parents

were

Pierre

de

Besze

(Beza)

3 5 5



356 Theodore

Beza

and Marie Bourdelot, both of them, thank God, of noble

stock

(would

that

rather

they

had

been

imbued

with

the

knowledge of the true God ) a nd of

unblemished

reputa

t i o n . I was

educated

most tenderly i n

the p aternal

home. . I ha d a t that

period

an uncle on my

f a t h e r ' s

s i d e , Nicholas d e Besze, a member of the

Parliament

of

P a r i s , who was

indeed

himself unmarried, but wa s so

fond of

the

children

of h i s brother,

that i s ,

my

f a t h e r ,

that he

would

have

been

glad

t o

bring

them

a t once t o

h i s

home,

a nd

spared

neither

exp ens e nor

diligence

i n

having

them reared i n

the most honourable

manner.

Having

by chance

come

from Paris t o v i s i t

h i s

r e l a t i v e s ,

he wa s seized by

a

certain love

for

me when I wa s s t i l l

but an i n f a n t , God even then providing

f o r

my s a l v a t i o n ,

a nd did not d e s i s t u n t i l he

had

obtained from my father

the permission

t h a t , . - ' t h o u g h / 1

wa s s t i l l a babe a t my

nurse's b r e a s t , I should be taken

t o P a r i s . This, a s

I

often

remember

t o

have

heard,

my

mother

took

greatly

t o

h e a r t ,

as though foreseeing coming

d i s a s t e r ;

y e t , de

ferring t o her husband's

authority,

she accompanied

me

when

I

wa s but l a t e l y

weaned,

a s f a r

as

P a r i s .

Thence

having

returned

home, not very long a f t e r she

f e l l

from

a horse

and

broke one of her t h i g h s ,

and

with her own

hands s e t

i t .

For she was, as

I have understood,

much inclined, by

a

natural im p ul se a cc ord ing

t o the

notions

of

women,

t o

the

study

of

physiology,

and

ha d

from infancy exercised herself i n such matters. Most

w i l l i n g l y ,

a nd not without a certain

dexterity,

wa s she

wont

t o

r e l i e v e

the poor i n various

ways of t h i s

kind; t o

such

a degree that she wa s beloved by a l l as a f t e r

a

fashion

t h e i r

common parent. As

f o r

myself, I account

i t a singular kindness of God that i t wa s H is w i l l

that I

should be

born

of

such a woman. But, t o

return

t o my

subject, shortly

a f t e r

t h i s , my

mother

was

seized with



Appendix

357

a ra ging

fever

a nd

died a t

the age

of thirty-two y e a r s .

I t

wa s

a great

l o s s

t o

our

family.

S he

l e f t

-seven child

r e n , namely, four g i r l s a nd three boys, of whom I wa s

the youngest, having not yet completed my third year.

Meantime,

though I

was

brought up

a t Paris

with

the

greatest

c a r e ,

I was

rather

dying than l i v i n g ;

f o r

I wa s

so prostrated by continual

languor

that i t wa s almost

f i v e years before

I

l e f t the cradle. JAnd

scarcely

ha d

I

l e f t i t

when

unfortunately I contracted

a

cutaneous

d i s

ease

from

an

attendant

with

whom

a s

a

child

I

wa s

playing, ignorant

of

the danger of contagion. The

m a l a d y

wa s of i t s e l f obstinate, but

a t

that time particu

l a r l y severe,

because

the

unskilfulness

of the physicians,

although i n

a

very celebrated c i t y , was such that they

used only the strongest a nd therefore the

most

cruel

drugs

t o

expel

the d i s e a s e .

My mind shudders

t o r e

member what tortures

I

underwent a t that

time,

my uncle

looking on

with

pity a nd trying

everything

t o no

purpose.

And here, t o o , I

wish

t o r e l a t e a singular example of the

D iv ine kind nes s t o me. Since the surgeon who ha d

undertaken t o t r e a t me used t o come t o our house, a nd

my

uncle

would on no consideration permit him even t o

lay h i s finger

on

me i n h i s

absence

( s o

tenderly

a nd

ardently did

he

love me), t h i s most

humane

man

could

no

longer

be

the

witness

of such great

s u f f e r i n g .

He

therefore ordered

h i s

v a l e t de chambre

t o

accompany me

d a i l y ,

together

with a

relation

of mine

whom he

wa s

rearing

with me,

a nd who

ha d

been attacked by

the

s a me

complaint, t o

the

house

of the

surgeon, since he could

not even bear the sight of the l a t t e r . / / My uncle resided

i n that

part

of the

c i t y

which i s known as the " Univer

s i t y

"

[the p art south

of the r i v e r

Seine]. The

surgeon,

on

the

other hand, lived

not f a r

from

the

royal

c a s t l e

called

the

" Louvre,"

the

two quarters being united by



358 Theodore

Beza

a bridge

that takes i t s

designation from the Millers [Pont

d e s

Meuniers].

So,

then/we

ha d

t o

cross

this^bridge

t o

our

daily

t o r t u r e s , which were

particularly

intolerable

a t

that

time

of

l i f e . We

would

hurry

on

and

the servant

followed, as servants

are wont t o do,

without watching

us

carefully enough. Here I

remember ( and

my mind

shudders a t the remembrance) my

kinsman,

who even

then breathed a warlike

s p i r i t , often

urged

that we should

cast ourselves into

the

river that

flowed below,

and thus

once

for

a l l

deliver

ourselves

from

our

s u f f e r i n g s .

I ,

being more timid by nature, wa s a t f i r s t

h o r r i f i e d ,

but

afterwards,

compelled by the violence of my suffering a nd

greatly

pressed by

him,

I promised

that

I

would follow

h i s

example.

So,

then, but t h i s one thing remained

f o r

Satan t o e f f e c t our r u i n , when the Lord, having compas

sion

on

u s ,

brought

i t t o

pass

that my uncle, chancing t o

return

from

court

without suspecting anything of the

kind,

met

us and,

noticing that

the

servant

followed

us

afar

o f f ,

bade us return home a nd ordered that the

sur

geon should

resume

h i s

v i s i t s

t o our house. 1 / Thus, then,

the

Lord

rescued us as from the jaws of

Satan

himself,

a nd

p ut

i t into

the

mind

of my

uncle, as soon as I ha d

been healed

of

that disease, t o

have

me taught a t home

by a tutor t o distinguish the forms of the l e t t e r s a nd t o

unite s y l l a b l e s . For God wa s

so

favourable

and

kind

that my uncle determined t o

devote

me

wholly

t o the

study

of l e t t e r s .

Here again God preserved me i n a marked a nd a l t o

gether

unexpected

way. For

whereas I

wa s l i v i n g i n

that c i t y which heretofore ha d been esteemed the most

flourishing

school

of the

whole

inhabited

world, i t came

t o pass t h a t , contrary t o

the advice of

a l l

our

f r i e n d s , and

on a sudden impulse, rather than by c a l m judgment, I

was

sent

t o Orleans t o you, my

revered teacher,

who a t



Appendix

359

that time

ha d established

there

a

school

for the training

of

a

few

s e l e c t

youths.

Now you

yourself

were

altogether

unknown t o my uncle, but by the singular providence of

God i t ha p p ened that on on e occasion

there

s u p p e d with

him a certain one of our

kinsmen,

a citizen of Orleans a nd

a member of the king's greater council. When t h i s man

caught

sight of

me, he

remarked that he

ha d a son

of

h i s

own

of j u s t

my age, whom he ha d placed under

the

i n

struction of one Wolmar, a

man

most learned i n the

Greek

language

—

thing

that

wa s

a t

that

time

quite

a nov el ty

—nd possessed of

wonderful

s k i l l i n

the

t r a i n

ing of youth, according t o the judgment of Nicholas

Berauld and Pierre S t e l l a [L'Estoile], most learned men.

Thereupon

my uncle, doubtless inspired thereto by

God,

not

only welcomed

the

suggestion,

but

solemnly promised

shortly t o send me t o Orleans, a nd asked h i s

guest

t o be

permitted

t o make me the

companion

o f the

l a t t e r ' s s o n . , /

Thus

i t

came

t o

pass

that

I

reached

you

on

the

nones

of December [the f i f t h o f December] of the year of Our

Lord 1528

—

d ay whic h I am wont with j u s t i c e t o cele

brate

not

otherwise than

a s a second birthday. For

that

d a y wa s i n my case

the

beginning of a l l

the

good

things

which

I

have received from that time forward a nd which

I

t r u s t t o receive hereafter

i n

my future l i f e . For, from

the

time

when

you

received me,

a

mere

boy, into your

house t o t r a i n me i n company with pupils of great p ro

mise already more a d v an ce d

i n t h e i r

s t u d i e s ,

what

labour

did you not

of

your

own

accord undergo

i n forming

me ? '

What trouble did you not take

i n

teaching me, f i r s t

a t

Orleans, afterwards a t Bourges, when the Queen of Na

varre ha d called you thither by the o f f e r of an

honour

able salary

t o

profess

Greek l i t e r a t u r e ?

In

f i n e , what

exertions did

you

not p ut forth

i n order

not t o

a p pear

wanting

i n

your

duty t o me i n any

direction

? For

I

can



360 Theodore

Beza

t r u l y a f f i r m that there wa s no famous Greek or Latin

writer

of

whom

I

did

not

get

a

t a s t e

i n

the

seven

years

which

I

s pent with you;

that there

was

no

l i b e r a l

study,

not even excepting jurisprudence, whose elements, a t

l e a s t ,

I did not learn with you a s my i n s t r u c t o r . You

wished indeed

t o have

only

a f ew pupils, but

a l l

these

you

desired

so

t o t r a i n , that when

you sent them out you

might have i n them so many witnesses i n the family of

your unbounded

diligence.

Nor did t h i s expectation

cheat you.

A

thing

ha p p ened

t o

you

which

has

ha p

pened

t o very few

others: I

c an scarcely

remember that

anyone l e f t your school,

excepting

me

alone,

who

did

not a t t a i n t o

notable

learning.

I t was, however, by

f a r

the greatest of the benefits

I

received a t your hands, that

you so

imbued

me with the knowledge of true p iety

sought

i n

the knowledge of the Word of

God,

as

i n

the

most limpid

fountain, that I should be

the

most ungrate

f u l

and

churlish

of

men did

I

not

cherish

a nd

honour

you, I say not

a s

an instructor but as a parent. When

your

wife's father induced you t o return from France t o

Germany,

what

stone did you a nd your gentle

wife

leave

unturned

t o

induce my father t o

permit

me t o

accom

p a ny you

t o

Germany ? S o much did both

o f

you love

me and so much i n turn did I revere you, that i t wa s

only with the

greatest

reluctance

that

you

l e f t me

behind,

and

only with the

greatest

s orrow c oul d

I tear myself

away from you.

T h a t f i r s t d a y of May, therefore, wa s

fixed

i n my mind

a nd

w i l l

always remain t h e r e , on which

I

wa s dragged

from

you,

a nd you departed toward

Lyons,

while

I i n

ac

cordance with my f a t h e r ' s directions

s e t

out for Orleans.

I do not remember nor s h a l l

I

ever remember a d a y of

greater sadness

a nd g r i e f .

Three days l a t e r ,

i n

the

course

of the year 1535,

I



Appendix

361

reached Orleans with the purpose of a p p l ying m ys el f t o

the

c i v i l

law.

But

t h e r e ,

being

strangely averse

t o

t h i s

study,

which was taught i n

a

barbarous

manner

a nd

without

method, while pursuing i t I sp ent a much greater

part of my time i n p o l i t e l i t e r a t u r e and

i n

the

perusal

of the

writers

of the two [ c l a s s i c a l ] languages.

I

took )

,

wonderful

delight

i n

the study of

Poetry, to which I

f e l t myself drawn by a

certain

natural im p ul se. This

led me to

have

the closest intimacy with

a l l

the most

learned

men

of that

University,

men

who

a t

present

are

enjoying

the greatest honours i n

France. At that time

they

greatly

incited me t o join with c i v i l law the study

of p o l i t e l i t e r a t u r e and poetical

culture.

Here

there

fore before

my

twentieth year I . composed

almost

a l l

those Poems which, a f ew years

l a t e r ,

I published a nd

dedicated t o

you.

Although there are among them several

written with somewhat too

great

freedom,

that i s

t o

s a y ,

i n

imitation of

Catullus

and

Ovid,

yet

I

by

no

means

feared a t that time, nor do I even now

f e a r ,

that anybody

who then knew what s o r t of a

man I

was, would judge of

my

moral

character

by these

f i c t i t i o u s

exercises.

/ But of

t h i s

hereafter.

Accordingly I

thus

lived

i n

Orleans, i n company

with

0

most

honourable a nd learned men, u n t i l I was promoted

t o the

grade of l i c e n t i a t e , as i t i s

c a l l e d .

This occurred,

I

remember,

on

the

second

d a y

before

the

Calends

of

August

[the t h i r t i e t h d a y of July], 1539, when

I

ha d

en

tered

upon the twentieth

year

of my l i f e .

I then returned

t o

P a r i s .

My uncle a nd " Maecenas " ha d died some years

before, but another uncle wa s

s t i l l

a l i v e , the Abb6 of

Froidmont, who

loved

me j u s t

a s

much. But, good God

how important i t i s

f o r

us that we have friends

not

only

rich a nd

l o y a l ,

but

a l s o

truly

pious

a nd

r e l i g i o u s

Cer

t a i n l y

those

who

were

most

desirous of

being

of

advantage



362 Theodore Beza

t o me

came

as

nearly

as possible

t o

ruining

me.

When I

reached

P a r i s ,

f i r s t

of

a l l ,

I

found

that

many

members

o f

Parliament, partly kinsmen and connexions, partly old

friends of

our

family and these

personally

very friendly

t o

me, ha d

conceived

great

hopes

of me

i n consequence

of the opinions expressed by certain persons. To t h i s

f a c t wa s added the circumstance that I ha d been loaded

—

a

lean

youth

and

moreover,

as I t e s t i f y t r u t h f u l l y ,

u t t e r l y ignorant of

such matters, and

i n

my

absence

—

with

two

f a t

and

rich benefices,

the

revenues

of

which

amounted annually t o seven hundred crowns, more or

l e s s . Moreover, my uncle, whose abbacy was valued

a t

not

l e s s

than

f i v e

thousand crowns a

year, had men

t a l l y

designated me a s . h i s

successor.

Finally,

my eldest

brother, whose health was even then so infirm as to be

despaired

o f ,

held certain other benefices

i n

reserve f o r

me.

In s h o r t , I

found

an i n f i n i t e number

of

snares l a i d

f o r

me

on

every

side

by

Satan.

As for

myself,

I

s h a l l

here

confess, as I ought, how matters

stood.

I ha d

previously determined that as soon a s

I

should be master

of myself a nd should have obtained certain resources,

I

would

leave France

a nd

go

t o

you, preferring

the

f r e e

dom

of

a

pure conscience

t o

a l l

other

t h i n g s . I

used

very

often

t o beg of God with prayers and tears t o

hearken

t o

me, bound

as I

wa s by t h i s

vow.

But

I

was

young a nd

abundantly

provided

by

my

r e l a t i v e s

with

l e i s u r e , with money, with a l l things,

i n

s h o r t , rather than

with good counsel, when Satan s ud d enly threw a l l

these

things i n my way.

I

confess that

I

was so allured

by

the e m p t y

g l i t t e r and vain enticements

of

these things

that I

suffered

myself

t o

be wholly drawn

hither

and

t h i t h e r .

But why should I here r e l a t e the i n f i n i t e p e r i l s

i n

which

I

involved

myself,

casting knowledge a nd d i s

cretion

t o the winds ?

How

often

a t

home a nd abroad



Appendix 363

did

I

r i s k body

and

soul ? Yet while the

recollection

of

a l l

that

period

cannot

but

be

on

many

accounts

very

b i t t e r , on the other

hand

the

singular

a nd incredible

kindness of

Almighty

God t o

me

causes

me

t o

be

f i l l e d ,

a s

often

a s

I

remember

them,

with a

certain

marvellous

d e l i g h t , a s

I recognise within me

the

clearest a nd most

d i s t i n c t

exemplifications

of the fatherly c are with which

that best of fathers has promised

t o

attend H is e l e c t .

For/

though

I had

of

my

own

accord

strayed from the S

way,

He

never

suffered

me

so

t o

wander

that

I

did

not

very often utter groanings a nd cling f a s t

t o

that vow

which

I

ha d made regarding

an

entire repudiation of the

p a p al

r e l i g i o n .

In

f i n e He

brought i t

t o

pass that I

so

ordered

my

l i f e t h a t , by H is

singular

kindness, though I

deserved neither

the

one nor the other

d i s t i n c t i o n ,

I was

held

t o

be

i n

piety

not the lowest among the pious, nor i n

culture altogether rude among the

cultivated.

Besides

those

hindrances

which

I

have

mentioned,

Satan

ha d

thrown about

me a

t r i p l e snare, namely,

the

allurements

of

pleasure

that are so great

i n

that c i t y , the sweets of

petty glory

which, i n

the judgment of

Marcus Antonius

Flaminius, himself

a

very learned

poet

a nd an I t a l i a n , I

ha d

attained

i n no small measure by

the

publication

e s

pecially of my E pigrams, and, l a s t l y , the expectation

s e t

before me of the greatest honours, t o which some of the

leading

members of

the

court

called

me,

while

my

friends

incited me, a nd my

father

a nd uncle did not cease

from

exhorting me. Yet i t wa s God's

w i l l

that

I who, wretched

man

that

I was, had entered

so perilous a path with

my

eyes

open,

should escape these dangers a l s o . For, i n < < _ .

the f i r s t p lace, that

I

might not be

ov erc om e by

those

base d e s i r e s ,

I

espoused a w i f e ,

secretly

however, I confess

i t , a nd with

the p r i v i t y

of only

two pious

f r i e n d s , partly

that I might

not

scandalise o t h e r s , partly because I could



364 Theodore Beza

not a s yet bring

myself to

renounce

that

accursed

money

which

I

derived

from

p r i e s t l y

benefices,

"

a s

the

un

clean dog cannot be frightened o f f from the besmeared

leather " [see

Horace,

S a t . , i i . ,

5 , 8 3 ] .

There

was,

however, added

t o the r i t e of betrothal

an

express p ro

mise

that I would a t the very f i r s t opportunity put a l l

hindrances aside a nd bring my

wife

to the Church of

God a nd

there

publicly r a t i f y my marriage with h e r ,

engaging

meanwhile

t o

bind myself t o none

of the

popish

orders.

Both

of

these

engagements

a t

a

subsequent

time I r e l i g i o u s l y f u l f i l l e d .

Moreover

the s a m e most

kind Fa ther effected my d e

termined rejection of that p altry glory and the honours

held forth t o me, t o the wonder of my

friends and

the

reprehension

of most

of them,

who

jocularly styled

me

"

the

new philosopher."

Meantime

I wa s s t i l l plunged

i n the mire. My friends urged me a t length

t o

embrace

some kind of l i f e . My uncle placed everything a t my

d i s p o s a l . On the one

s i d e ,

conscience

pressed me

and

my spouse called

on me

t o

f u l f i l my promise.

On the

other,

Satan

with

most placid countenance

used

h i s

blandishments. My inc ome wa s made greater by the

death of my brother.

I

lay as i t were incapable of com

ing t o a

decision i n

the

midst of t h i s

mental

s o l i c i t u d e .

How wonderfully the Lord had compassion upon me, I

s h a l l here most cheerfully narrate.

Lo He i n f l i c t s upon me a very severe i l l n e s s , t o

such

a p oint that I almost despaired of l i f e . What should I

do, wretched man

that I was,

when

I

s aw before me

naught but the t e r r i b l e judgment of

God

? What

more

s h a l l I say ? After i n f i n i t e tortures of mind and body,

the Lord, pitying H is runaway s l a v e ,

so

consoled

me

that

I entertained no doubts of

the

concession

of

H is p a rd on

t o me. Therefore I renounced myself with t e a r s , I



Appendix

365

asked

for forgiveness,

I

renewed

my

vow openly t o em

brace

H is

true

worship

—

n

s h o r t ,

I

consecrated

myself

wholly

t o

Him. Thus did i t come

t o

pass that the image

of death, seriously confronting me, excited i n

me

the d e

s i r e of

the true

l i f e

that lay dormant

and

buried, a nd

that

disease wa s for me the

beginning

of a true

sound

n e s s . S o wonderful i s the

Lord

i n that He casts down

a nd

r a i s e s

up, wounds a nd makes whole again H is child

ren by one and the s a m e s t r o k e .

As

soon

therefore

as

I

could

leave

my

bed,

I

burst

asunder every

chain,

collected my

e f f e c t s ,

forsook a t

once

my native land, my kinsmen, my f r i e n d s , that I might

follow a f t e r Christ, and, a c com p a nied

by

my w i f e , betook

myself

to Geneva i n voluntary e x i l e . Accordingly, on

the

ninth

d ay

before

the

Calends of November

[the

twenty-fourth of October], A.d.

1548,

having l e f t E g y p t

I

entered that c i t y , a nd there found what previously

I

could

not

even

suspect,

although

I

had

heard

the com

monwealth

greatly praised by certain

pious

men. There

I

took

up my

abode.

Subsequently

while

I wa s

revolv

ing i n mind

what course

of

l i f e

I

should

pursue,

a nd

a f t e r

I

ha d made a v i s i t t o

you,

my

f a t h e r ,

a t Tubingen,

l o

as

I

anticipated nothing of the s o r t , the Academy of

Lausanne

called me

thither

t o

be

a

professor of

Greek

Literature. The i l l u s t r i o u s Council

of

Bern having

r a t i f i e d t h i s

i n v i t a t i o n ,

I

wa s

compelled

t o

follow

the

c a l l

of C h r i s t .

Accordingly

i n

the

following year I came

t o

Lausanne. There,

thank

God, I

believe

that I so lived

i n

the

society

of my colleagues,

most

learned a nd

excel

lent men, as not t o displease any good

person.

From

that place, a f t e r ten years, partly

because I

wa s desirous

of

giving myself

altogether

t o

Theology, partly

f o r

other

reasons which need not here be recorded,

I

returned

again,

with

the

kind

permission

of

the

Council,

t o

t h i s



366

Theodore Beza

c i t y

[Geneva]

as t o a most peaceful haven. I t was not

so

much

my

own

w i l l

that

brought me,

a s

the

judgment

of men

of the

greatest authority that compelled me t o

come, that I might a s su me the o f f i c e of the s ac red m inis

t r y . May the Lord supply me such

strength t o

sustain

t h i s

very weighty burden, that I may discharge i t s duties

with some edification of the Church

You

have here, my

f a t h e r ,

a brief

narrative of

the

entire l i f e of your p u p i l , nay, r a t h e r , of your son who

was

too

unseasonably

torn

away

from

you.

I

have

written i t , because I

am

wont

gladly

to

view,

and

not

without very great

p r o f i t

t o myself, so many examples of

the divine providence for my preservation. Nor do I

doubt that you, above a l l o t h e r s , are wont t o be similarly

affected by my success.

I wrote t h i s

Confession of my

Faith

a t f i r s t i n

the French language, for the purpose

of

satisfying my own

f a t h e r ,

whom the calumnies

of certain

persons

ha d

alienated

from

me,

a s

though

I

had

been

an

impious

man

a nd a h e r e t i c , a nd with the further view of

winning him, i f possible,

t o Christ

i n

h i s

extreme

old

age. Subsequently I was

urged t o

publish i t , and

did

not hesitate t o

do s o .

I have p ut i t i n Latin; i f only I

am suffered by the learned t o c a l l Latin what

I have

p re

ferred t o

express

i n

a simple

a nd

a r t l e s s

mode

of

speech,

rather than adorn by

a

far-fetched a nd abstruse

e l o

quence.

T hes e s a m e

subjects,

I

confess,

ha v e been

happily

s e t

forth

by many

w r i t e r s , especially i n

t h i s

century

of

ours, and indeed

among the

f i r s t

(for

I s h a l l

s t a t e

the

case

a s

i t

i s ,

despite

the

p r a t t l e

of envy)

by

that great John Calvin, my second parent; who has

treated of

a l l these m atters v ery cop ious ly

i n h i s

I n s t i

t u t e s , and very b r i e f l y

but

very accurately i n

h i s

Cate

chism of t h i s Church [ o f Geneva]. From

these

books

a l s o

I

profess

t o

have

derived

the

present

work.

But



Appendix 367

where there i s

such

a superabundance of viands, nothing

forbids

that

the

s a me

f e a s t

be

repeated

with

a

s l i g h t

cha'nge i n

the

arrangement,

t o the great

enjoyment

o f

those that partake. Moreover, I deem most

useful the

z e a l of those who compose short and perspicuous sum

maries of

these

controversies,

i n

order that such persons

a s a p p ly

themselves

t o the reading

of

the Sacred

Script

ures

may have certain

heads ready

a t hand,

t o each

of

which they may afterwards refer a nd

accommodate

what

they

read.

In

f i n e ,

I

hope

that

some

of

my

readers

may

admit

that

they

have

received

some

p r o f i t

from t h i s

labour

of

mine.

Moreover I have desired t o dedicate

t o

you

t h i s

t r e a t i s e ,

whatever

i t may amount t o ,

partly

because i t i s very j u s t

that you should reap some f r u i t

from

the f i e l d which you

f i r s t sowed, of

such

s o r t as c an

be gathered

from land

not over

f e r t i l e ;

partly i n order

t h a t , i n place

of

those

books

of

E pi gr a m s

o f

mine,

whic h you

desired

me

again

t o publish,

you

might

receive t h i s

book

which i s i n f i n i t e l y

better a nd more

holy.

For so f a r a s

respects

them, who

i s there that has condemned them

more

than I ,

t h e i r

un

h a p p y

author, have done, or who to-day detests them

more ? Would therefore that they might now a t length

be buried i n a p erp etua l oblivion And may the

Lord,

a s

I hope may be

the c a s e ,

grant t h a t ,

since

that which

has

once been

done

can

never

be u ndone,

those

persons

who hereafter read writings of mine

very

diverse from

those poems, s h a l l

rather congratulate

me upon

the great

ness of God's goodness t o me, than accuse him who

voluntarily confesses a nd

deplores

the

f a u l t

of h i s youth.

Farewell.

Geneva, t h i s fourth

da y before the

Ides

of

March [the twelfth

of

March],

A.d.

1560. '



TRANSCRIPT OF BEZA'S LETTER TO PTTHOU.

Monsieur

Et

Frere.

— ' e s p e r e

que

l e p r e s e n t p o r t e u r

n e

s e

r e

p e n t i r a d e s o n v o y a g e ,

e s t a n t

advenu

c e

que

l u y

a u i e z

[ a v i e z ]

b i e n

c o n s e i l l é .

O u l t r e

c e l a , i e n e f a u l d r o y , a y d a n t l e S e i g n e u r , d e

f a i r e

c e

que

i e

p o u r r a y

pour

l ' i n s t r u c t i o n

d e

s o n

f i l z ,

comme

non

s e u l e

ment

n o s t r e

a m i t i é l e r e q u i e r t , m a i s a u s s i l e d e b v o i r l e n o u s com

mande.

Quant a mes

l e t t r e s

e n v o y é e s

p a r

d e l à , i e s o u h a i t t e q u ' e l l e s

p u i s s e n t p r o m t e r ,

e t

non s e u l e m e n t c e l a , m a i s a u s s i que

c h a s c u n

p e n s e a s o y

d e

p l u s p r e s

e n une

t e l l e e t s i

e x t r e m e

a f f l i c t i o n

s i peu

c o n s i d e r é e

d e t o u s que

i e ne me

p u i s

a s s e z e s m e r v e i l l e r d ' u n e

t e l l e

s t u p i d i t é , l a q u e l l e v o u s s ç a v e z e s t r e

d e s

p l u s d a n g e r e u s e s m a l a d i e s ,

e t d e s p l u s

a p p r o c h a n t e s d e

l a m o r t . N o s t r e

bon

Dieu

y

v u e i l l e b i e n

p o u r v e o i r ,

e t

f a c e pour l e moins que t o u s c e u l x

q u i

ne s e s o n t

e n c o r e s

du

t o u t

e n d o r m i s ,

s e r es v e il l e nt

s i

b i e n

que

l e

S e i g n e u r

quand i l v i e n d r a ( e t q u i e s t

c e l u y

q u i s a i t quand i l v i e n d r a ? )

n e

l e s

t r o u v e d o r m a n s .

Quant a

l ' a f f a i r e du

f e u S e i g n e u r

d e

p a s s y , J e v o u s en

envoye

l e sommaire a l a p u r e v e r i t é , e t t e l que c e s t e S e i g n e u r i e l ' a a c c o r d é

a

q u e l c u n

q u i l ' a r e q u i s

pour s ' e n s e r v i r .

J ' a v o i s d e s i a e n v o y é

l a

p r o n o n c i a t i o n du

p r o c e s t e l l e

q u ' el l e s e f a i t

p a r d e ç a ,

comme

v o u s s a v e z . J e v o u s p r i e d ' u s e r d e prudence a communicquer l e t o u t

a

c e u l x q u ' i l

s e r a

d e

b e s o i n ,

non

p a s

q u ' o n

p u i s s e ny v u e i l l e

r i e n

c e l e r d ' u n

t e l e t

s i c l a i r iugement d e D i e u , m a i s p o u r c e que i e n e

v o u l d r o y e

a d i o u s t e r

a f f l i c t i o n

aux

a f f l i g e z ,

e t

quoy

q u ' i l

e n

s o i t

l a

r e p e n t a n c e e t c o n f e s s i o n du

p a o u r e

homme a

l ' e x t r e m i t é ,

m ' a s s e u r a n t

q u e l e

S e i g n e u r a

c o u v e r t

s e s

f a u l t e s ,

me

f a i c t d e s i r e r que

l ' i g n o m i n i e

e n s o i t a u s s i a b o l i e d e v a n t l e s

hommes,

a u t a n t q u ' i l e s t e x p e d i e n t

pour l a g l o i r e du

S e i g n e u r .

J e

s a y b i e n

que c h a s c u n e n donnera s a

s e n t e n c e ,

e t

que S a t a n n e n o u s

e s p a r g n e r a .

Mais i ' e s p e r e que

l e s

s a g e s s e s o u v i e n d r o n t d e l ' a d v e r t i s s e m e n t du S e i g n e u r n o u s d e f e n d a n t

d e i u g e r

t e m e r a i r e m e n t d e n o z f r e r e s ,

e t a

p l u s f o r t e

r a i s o n ,

d e mal

e s t i m e r

d e

t o u t e

une S e i g n e u r i e

e t e g l i s e

C h r e s t i e n n e ,

o ul t re c e q u ' a

mon

a d v i s

m a i n t e n a n t

l e s

p l u s

d i f f i c i l e s

a u r o n t

d e

quoy

e s t r e

s a t i s

3 6 8



Appendix

369

f a i c t s . Quant

a u x a u l t r e s ,

q u i

e n

i u g e r o n t comme i l l e u r p l a i s t ,

c ' e s t

a

Dieu d e l e u r f e r m e r

l a b o u c h e ,

a u q u e l

a u s s i

n o u s a p p e l l o n s

t i e t o u t e s

f o l l e s

s e n t e n c e s donnees e n t a u t d e l i e u x c o n t r e n o u s .

Au

r e s t e ,

g r a c e s a

D i e u , n o u s s u y v o n s

n o s t r e

p e t i t t r a i n , heureusement

e t p a i s i b l e m e n t i us q ue s a p r e s e n t . Les b r u i c t s c o n t i n u e n t e t non

s a n s

a p p a r e n c e . Mais l e S e i g n e u r

a u q u e l nous

e s p e r o n s ,

p o u r v o y r a

a

t o u t ,

s ' i l l u y

p l a i s t . Ce

s e r a l ' e n d r o i t

ou i e p r i e r a y

n o s t r e

bon

D i e u e t p e r e q u ' e n Vous m u l t i p l i a n t s e s g r a c e s , i l v o u s

m a i n t i e n e

t o u t s e n

s a

s a i n c t e

e t d i g n e

g a r d e , a p r e s m ' e s t r e

b i e n

f o r t r e c o m -

mende a v o s bonnes p r i e r e s . D e G e n e v e , c e 2 2 d ' a v r i l , 1 5 6 6 .

V o s t r e e n t i e r f r e r e e t amy,

Th.

De

B e s z e .

A M o n s i e u r ,

Monsieur I ' l T H O U ,

A T r o y e s .

TRANSLATION.

My Dear

Brother.

—

hope t h a t

t h e p r e s e n t b e a r e r w i l l n o t r e

p e n t

o f

h i s

j o u r n e y ,

t h a t

h a v i n g

happened

t o

him

o f

which

you

g a v e

him good

a d v i c e . Beyond t h a t I

s h a l l

n o t f a i l ,

w i t h

t h e L o r d ' s

h e l p ,

t o

do what I c a n

f o r t h e

i n s t r u c t i o n o f

h i s

s o n , a s

n o t o n l y

d o e s

o u r

f r i e n d s h i p demand

b u t

o u r d u t y b i d s u s . As t o my l e t t e r s s e n t t o

y o u r q u a r t e r s , I w i s h t h a t t h e y

may b e

o f a d v a n t a g e ,

and

n o t o n l y

t h a t , b u t a l s o t h a t

e v e r y

man may c o n s i d e r

h i m s e l f

more c l o s e l y

i n

s u c h and s o e x t r e m e a n a f f l i c t i o n s o l i t t l e r e g a r d e d by a l l t h a t I c a n

n o t

s u f f i c i e n t l y m a r v e l

a t

s u c h i n s e n s i b i l i t y , which you know

t o

b e

among t h e most

d a n g e r o u s

m a l a d i e s

and

most

a p p r o a c h i n g

t o d e a t h .

Ma y

o u r

good God

b e

p l e a s e d t o p r o v i d e w e l l t h e r e f o r ,

and

g r a n t a t

l e a s t

t h a t

a l l

t h o s e

who

a r e

n o t

y e t

a l t o g e t h e r

a s l e e p ,

may

awake

s o

t h o r o u g h l y

t h a t when t h e Lord s h a l l come ( a n d who knows when He

w i l l

come

? ) He s h a l l n o t f i n d

them

s l e e p i n g .

As

t o

t h e

a f f a i r o f

t h e l a t e

Lord

o f

P a s s y , I

s h a l l s e n d

you

t h e

summary a c c o r d i n g t o

t h e

p u r e t r u t h and s u c h a s t h i s S e i g n i o r y

f u r

n i s h e d i t t o a p e r s o n who a p p l i e d f o r i t i n o r d e r t o

make

u s e o f i t .

I had

a l r e a d y s e n t

you

t h e r e n d e r i n g o f t h e s e n t e n c e a s i t

i s

p r a c t i s e d

h e r e a s you know. I p r a y you t o

u s e

p r u d e n c e

i n

communicating

t h e whole t o t h o s e t o whom

i t

may

b e

n e c e s s a r y t o

do

s o ; n o t t h a t

i t

may

b e

p o s s i b l e

o r

d e s i r a b l e

t o

h i d e

a n y t h i n g

i n

s u c h

and

s o

c l e a r



37° Theodore Beza

a

judgment o f

God,

b u t b e c a u s e I would

n o t

add

a f f l i c t i o n

t o

t h e

a f f l i c t e d ,

a n d ,

b e

t h a t

a s

i t

may,

t h e

p o o r m a n ' s

r e p e n t a n c e

and

c o n

f e s s i o n

a t t h e

end

g i v i n g me t h e

a s s u r a n c e t h a t

t h e

Lord h a s c o v e r e d

h i s f a u l t s ,

make

me d e s i r e t ha t i t s ignominy may a l s o

b e

a b o l i s h e d

i n t h e

s i g h t o f

men, s o f a r

a s i s e x p e d i e n t

f o r t he g l o r y

o f

t h e L o r d .

I

know w e l l t h a t everybody w i l l p a s s h i s own j u d g m e n t ,

and

t h a t

S a t a n w i l l n o t

s p a r e

u s .

But I hope

t h a t t h e w i s e w i l l c a l l t o

mind

t h e L o r d ' s

warning t h a t

f o r b i d s

u s

t o

j u d g e r a s h l y

o f

o u r

b r e t h r e n ,

and

t h e r e f o r e w i t h s t i l l g r e a t e r r e a s o n t o t h i n k i l l o f a n e n t i r e

C h r i s t i a n

S e i g n i o r y and Church

; b e s i d e

t h a t

i n my

o p i n i o n

t h e

most

c a p t i o u s

w i l l

now have g r o u n d s f o r b e i n g s a t i s f i e d . As t o t he o t h e r s

who

w i l l

j u d g e

a s

t h e y

p l e a s e ,

i t

i s

G o d ' s p r o v i n c e

t o

s t o p

t h e i r

m o u t h s ,

and t o H im we a p p e a l

from

a l l f o o l i s h judgments

p a s s e d i n

s o many p la c e s a g a i n s t u s . Meanwhile, t h a n k s t o God, we p u r s u e

o u r u s u a l c o u r s e ,

h a p p i l y and

p e a c e f u l l y

u n t i l now.

Rumours

c o n

t i n u e

n o t

w i t h o u t

c o l o u r

o f p r o b a b i l i t y . But t h e Lord i n whom we

h o p e , w i l l p r o v i d e f o r e v e r y t h i n g ,

i f

i t

b e His good

p l e a s u r e . And

hereupon

I

s h a l l

p r a y o u r good God and F a t h e r

t h a t

m u l t i p l y i n g H i s

f a v o u r s t o y o u , H e may keep you a l l i n His h o l y and worthy c a r e ,

and

commend m y s e l f t o y o u r

good p r a y e r s . From Geneva,

t h i s

t w e n t y - s e c o n d

o f

A p r i l ,

1 5 6 6 ,

Your d e v o t e d

b r o t h e r

and f r i e n d ,

Theodore De B e z e .

T o Mr. Pithou,

At T r o y e s .



INDEX

A

A b j u r a t i o n

o f

Henry

I V . , 3 2 0 ,

f o i l .

Admonition t o P a r l i a m e n t , 2 6 7

A l e n c o n , M a r g a r e t , Duchess

o f ,

2 9 0

; s e e Angouleme, M a r g a r e t

o f

Amboise,

Tumult

o f , 1 2 1

A n d e l o t , F r a n c o i s d ' ,

1 3 1

Andres, J a c o b , 8 5 , 9 0 , 2 8 5 ,

2 8 6

A n g e l i c S a l u t a t i o n , 2 9 1

Angouleme,

Margaret o f , 9

B

B e a u v a i s , 1 2 4

B e l l i u s , M a r t i n , 5 3 , 5 7

Bemud, F . , 1 0 7

B e r a u l d ,

N i c h o l a s , 7

l i e r n ,

3 9 ,

f o i l . ,

7 3 , o f ) ,

f o i l .

B e r t r a m , C o r n e i l l e , 3 3 0

B e z a ,

o r , de B e z e , J o h n ,

7 4 , 7 5

B e z a ,

o r , d e B e z e , N i c h o l a s

( t h e

e l d e r ) , 5 ,

1 6 ;

( t h e

y o u n g e r ) , 3 2 8

B e z a ,

o r ,

d e

B e z e ,

P i e r r e ,

B a i l l i

o f

V e z e l a y ,

f a t h e r

o f T h e o d o r e ,

4 , 7 5 , 3 2 8 ,

3 2 9

B e z a ,

Theodore, h i s b i r t h , June

1 4 , 1 5 1 9 , 4 ; c h i l d h o o d and

y o u t h ,

5 - 1 5

;

s t u d e n t

under

Wolmar,

a t O r l e a n s , 8 ;

and

a t

B o u r g e s ,

9

; r e t u r n s

t o s t u d y

c i v i l

l a w

a t O r l e a n s , 1 2 ; c u l t i

v a t e s p o e t r y , 1 3 ; h i s p o p u l a r

i t y , 1 4 ; s t a y

a t P a r i s ,

1 6 ,

f o i l .

; p r o s p e c t s o f w e a l t h and

p r e f e r m e n t ,

i b .

;

a v e r s i o n

t o

t h e

p r a c t i c e

o f l a w , 1 8

; s t u d i e s ,

2 2 - 2 4

;

s e c r e t m a r r i a g e t o

C l a u d i n e D e s n o z ,

2 5 , 3 4

; pub

l i s h e s

h i s

J u v e n i l i a ,

2 7

;

c h a r

a c t e r o f t h i s w o r k ,

2 8 - 3 1

; h i s

i l l n e s s and

c o n v e r s i o n , 3 2 ,

f o i l .

;

he l e a v e s F r a n c e , under

assumed

name

o f

Thibaud d e

May, 3 3 ; f i r s t p l a n s , 3 5 ;

p e r s o n a l

a p p e a r a n c e

and

n a t -

w

u r a l endowments, 3 7

;

v i s i t s

Wolmar

a t

Tubingen, 3 8 ;

p r o f e s s o r o f Greek a t t h e

U n i v e r s i t y

o f L a u s a n n e ,

3 9 -

4 8

;

h i s

t r a g e d y ,

Abraham's

S a c r i f i c e , 4 9 , f o i l . ;

t r e a t i s e

on

t h e punishment

o f h e r e t i c s ,

5 2 , f o i l . ; i n t e r c e s s i o n s f o r t h e

"

F i v e

S c h o l a r s o f L a u s a n n e , "

7 3 ; h i s f a t h e r

and

b r o t h e r

s t r i v e t o

b r i n g

him

b a c k ,

7 4 -

7 6 ; h i s new f i e l d o f u s e f u l n e s s ,

7 7

; h e l p s t o

s e c u r e

r e n e w a l

o f

a l l i a n c e

between Bern

and

G e n e v a ,

7 9 ,

8 0

; l a b o u r s f o r

t h e p e r s e c u t e d Vaudois i n

S w i t z e r l a n d

and

Germany,

8 3 ,

f o i l . ; t r i e s

t o

r e c o n c i l e

L u t h e r a n s

and C a lv i n is t s, 8 5,

f o i l . ;

t o

i n f l u e n c e t h e French

and S w i s s

t o

e n t r e a t Henry

I I . f o r

p e r s e c u t e d P a r i s i a n s ,

8 8 , f o i l . ; h i s i r e n i c c o n f e s

s i o n ,

9 1 , 9 2

;

h i s u t t e r a n c e s d i s

q u i e t

B u l l i n g e r ,

9 2 ,

f o i l . ;

b u t

h e i s d e f e n d e d by

C a l v i n ,

9 4 ;

h i s

r e a s o n s

f o r

l e a v i n g Lau

s a n n e , 9 6 , f o i l . ; becomes

C a l

v i n ' s

c o a d j u t o r

a t

G e n e v a ,



372

Index

B e z a , Theodore ( C o n t i n u e d )

1 0 3

;

s p e e c h

a s

R e c t o r

o f

t h e

Academie,

a t

i t s

s o l e m n open

i n g ,

1 0 6

;

h i s

s e l f - s a c r i f i c e ,

1 0 8 ; he i s i n v i t e d t o Nerac

by

t h e

King

o f N a v a r r e ,

I I I -

1 1 4 ; i n v i t e d t o P o i s s y ,

1 3 6 ,

f o i l . ; h i s r e c e p t i o n a t c o u r t ,

1 3 9 ,

f o i l . ; a t t h e

C o l l o q u y o f

P o i s s y , 1 5 3 , f o i l . ; h i s

s p e e c h ,

1 6 2 , f o i l .

;

he i s i n t e r r u p t e d ,

1 8 5

;

h i s g r e a t s u c c e s s ,

1 8 9

;

l e t t e r

t o

t h e q u e e n - m o t h e r ,

1 9 0

;

he

i s

answered

by

C a r d i

n a l L o r r a i n e , 1 9 2

;

d e t a i n e d

i n France by C a t h a r i n e d e '

M e d i c i ,

1 9 9 ; p r o t e s t s

a f t e r

t h e M a s s a c r e o f V a s s y , 2 0 6 ;

h i s

memorable

words

t o

t h e

King o f N a v a r r e , 2 0 8

;

t h e

c o u n s e l l o r o f

Conde, 2 1 0 ,

f o i l . ; h i s l e t t e r t o t h e Queen

o f N a v a r r e , 2 1 2 , f o i l . ;

a u t h o r

o f C o n d e ' s l e t t e r t o t h e " T r i

u m v i r s , " 2 1 7 , f o i l . ; h i s s e r v

i c e s ,

2 2 3

;

a t

t h e

b a t t l e o f

D r e u x ,

2 2 5

; r e t u r n s t o

G e n e v a ,

2 2 6 ;

a

p r i c e

s e t

on

h i s

h e a d ,

2 2 7 ; he

i s

warmly

r e c e i v e d by

t h e

c i t y and by C a l v i n , 2 2 8 ,

2 2 9 ; d e f e n d s

h i m s e l f

a g a i n s t

Claude d e

S a i n c t e s , 2 3 1 ;

w r i t e s a

l i f e

o f

C a l v i n , 2 3 2 ,

f o i l . ; h i s

e d i t i o n o f

t h e

Greek

New T e s t a m e n t , 2 3 4 , f o i l . ;

h i s L a t i n

v e r s i o n ,

2 3 6 , f o i l . ;

h i s b r o a d

s y m p a t h i e s , 2 3 9 ,

f o i l .

;

h i s

l e t t e r

r e g a r d i n g

S p i f a m e ' s e x e c u t i o n , 2 4 2 ,

f o i l . ;

p r e s i d e s o v e r N a t i o n a l Synod

o f

La R o c h e l l e , 2 4 5 , f o i l . ;

a f t e r t h e M a s s a c r e o f S a i n t

B a r t h o l o m e w ' s Day, 2 4 9 ,

f o i l .

; a

c o u n s e l l o r o f Henry

o f N a v a r r e ,

2 5 3 ; c o n s u l t e d

by

E n g l i s h

R e f o r m e r s ,

2 6 0 , f o i l .

;

s y m p a t h i s e s w i t h t h e P r e s b y

t e r i a n movement,

2 6 6 ;

h i s

t h e o l o g y ,

2 6 8

;

h i s


T r e a t i s e s ,

2 6 9

; h i s C o n f e s s i o

C h r i s t i a n a ; F i d e i , 2 6 9 , 2 7 0 ;

which

i s

s p e c i a l l y

condemned

by

t h e

A r c h b i s h o p

o f

P a r i s ,

i i . ; h i s

Summa t o t i u s

C h r i s -

i i a n i s m i ,

2 7 0 ,

2 7 1

;

h i s Quas-

t i o n u m e l Responsionum

C h r i s l i a n a r u m L i b e l l u s , 2 7 1 ;

h i s C a t e c h i s m , i b .

; h e

a n

s w e r s Joachim W e s t p h a l ,

2 7 3

;

d e f e n d s

t h e

French

m a r t y r s and

C a l v i n , 2 7 3 ,

2 7 4

;

a n s w e r s

Tilemann

H e s s h u s ,

2 7 4 .

2 7 5

; w r i t e s on polygamy

and

d i v o r c e

i n

answer

t o

O c h i n o , 2 7 9 ; a n s w e r s

C l a u d e

d e S a i n c t e s , 2 8 1 , f o i l . ; h i s

f e e l i n g s toward t h e L u t h e r a n s ,

2 8 4 ; he c o n f e r s w i t h

A n d r e a ?

and

o t h e r s

a t M o n t b e l i a r d ,

2 8 5 ,

2 8 6

;

c o m p l e t e s t r a n s l a

t i o n o f p s a l m s begun by M a r o t ,

2 9 3 ;

h i s d e d i c a t i o n t o t h e

" L i t t l e F l o c k , " 2 9 4 - 2 9 8 ;

t r a n s l a t e s

s c r i p t u r a l hymns,

3 0 6

; h i s l i f e o f C a l v i n , 3 0 7 ,

f o i l .

;

n o t t h e

a u t h o r

o f

t h e

H i s i o i r e

l i c c l e ' s i a s t i q u e ,

3 1 0 -

312; h i s / c o ne s , 3 1 2 - 3 1 4 ;

h e

w r i t e s

on G r e e k , L a t i n , and

French p r o n u n c i a t i o n , 3 1 4 ;

h i s p a t r i o t i c p r e a c h i n g , 3 1 5 -

3 2 0 ;

he r e m o n s t r a t e s

w i t h

Henry I V . on h i s a b j u r a t i o n ,

3 2 1 ;

h i s

l i b e r a l i t y ,

3 2 5

; h e

s e l l s

h i s

l i b r a r y

t o

p r o v i d e

f o r

p o o r

r e f u g e e s , 3 2 6 ,

3 3 9 ; d e

c r e e a g a i n s t him by P a r l i a

ment

a n n u l l e d

b y

C h a r l e s

I X .

under

t he g r e a t

s e a l , 3 2 7 ; h e

i s

begged by h i s f a t h e r t o

v i s i t

him

a t

V e z e l a y , b u t i s

p r e

v e n t e d b y

t h e w a r ,

3 2 8 , 3 2 9 ;

a c t i v i t i e s i n

o l d a g e ,

3 2 9 ;

r e

v i s e s

French B i b l e , 3 3 0 ;

h i s

l e c t u r e s , 3 3 1

;

d e a t h o f h i s

f i r s t

w i f e , 3 3 2 ;

h i s

s e c o n d

m a r r i a g e t o Genevieve d e l

P i a n o , 3 3 3 ;

F r a n c i s

o f S a l e s

a t t e m p t s

t o

c o n v e r t

h i m ,

3 3 4 ,

f o i l .

, b e i n g

encouraged by

t h e



Index

373

B e z a , Theodore ( C o n t i n u e d )

l ' o p e . 3 3 5 - 3 3 7

; Beza

r e j e c t s

S a l e s ' s

b r i b e s ,

3 3 c ;

;

f a l s e

rumours o f h i s c o n v e r s i o n and

d e a t h ,

3 4 0 , d i s p r o v e d

by

t h e

R e f o r m e r ' s p e n , i b . ;

h i s e p i

g r a m s ,

3 4 1

;

a

p o r t r a i t

o f

him

i n h i s o l d a g e ,

3 4 2 ;

p u b l i c l y

t h a n k s God f o r t h e f a i l u r e o f

t h e " E s c a l a d e , " 3 4 7 ,

3 4 8 ;

h i s

d e a t h , O c t o b e r 1 3 , 1 6 0 5 ,

3 5 0

;

n o t i c e o f , 3 5 1

;

h i s b u r i a l ,

3 5 2

;

h o n o u r s

t o h i s memory,

3 5 3

l i l a n c h e r o s e ,

D r . ,

4 2

B o u r b o n , A n t o i n e o f ,

King

o f

N a v a r r e , s e e

Navarre

B o u r b o n , C a r d i n a l , 1 4 2

B o u r b o n ,

C a t h a r i n e o f , 3 3 1

B o u r d e l o t , M a r i e , 4

B r e n t i u s ,

90

B u l l i n g e r , 9 3 , 2 5 7 , f o i l . , 2 6 7

C

C a b r i e r e s ,

1

1 9

C a l v i n ,

J o h n , 1 , 2 ,

I I , 4 1 , 1 3 6 ,

■ 4 9 , 1 5 5 , 2 0 0 , 229,230; h i s

l i f e

by

B e z a ,

2 3 2 , f o i l . , 2 6 8 ,

2 7 2 , 2 7 4 . 2 9 5 , 3 0 7 , f o i l .

C a r o l i , l ' i e r r e , 4 1

C a r t w r i g h t ,

Thomas,

2 6 6 , 2 6 7

C a s t a l i o , o r

C h a s t e i l l o n ,

S e b a s

t i a n ,

5 5 ,

f o i l .

, 275,280

C a t h a r i n e d e '

M e d i c i ,

1 2 9 , 1 3 0 ,

1 4 4 , f o i l . , 1 8 7 , 1 9 9 , 2 0 6 , 3 0 0 ,

3 0 2 ,

3 1 1

C a v a l l i e r ,

A . ,

1 0 7

C e c i l , W i l l i a m , 2 5 5

C h a b l a is , t h e

d r a g o n n a d e s

i n ,

3 3 4

Chambre A r d e n t e , 1 1 9

C h a m i s s o , 5 1

C h a r l e s

I X . , 1 2 6 ,

1 5 8

C h a s t i l l o n , C a r d i n a l

Odet

o f ,

1 2 4 , 1 3 1

C h a t e a u b r i a n d , c r u e l E d i c t

o f ,

7 2 , 2 9 5

C h r i s t o p h e r ,

Duke

o f W i i r t e i n -

b e r g ,

8 5

C o d e x

B e z t v , 2 3 4

C o d e x C l a r o m o n t a n u s ,

2 3 5

C o l i g n y ,

Admiral

Gaspard

d e ,

1 2 3 , 1 2 6 , 1 3 1 , 1 3 6 , 1 9 9 , 2 4 3 ,

2 4 6 ,

2 4 9 ,

f o i l .

C o n d e , Henry, P r i n c e

o f ,

2 4 6

C o n d e , L o u i s

o f

B o u r b o n ,

P r i n c e o f , 1 1 2 , 1 2 6 ,

1 9 9

C o n f e s s i o C h r i s t i a m e F i d e i , 2 6 9 ,

2 7 0 ; condemned by Arch

b i s h o p o f P a r i s , i b .

C o n f e s s i o n o f F a i t h , c o n f i r m e d

and s i g n e d a t La R o c h e l l e ,

2 4 6

C o n t r o v e r s i e s

and c o n t r o v e r s i a l

w r i t i n g s , 2 6 8 , f o i l .

C o r d e r i u s , M a t h u r i n , 5 6 , 1 0 5

C r e s p i n ( C r i s p i n u s ) ,

J e a n ,

3 5 ;

w r i t e s

t h e

g r e a t P r o t e s t a n t

m a r t y r o l o g y , 3 6

D

Del P i a n o , G e n e v i e v e , B e z a ' s

s e c o n d

w i f e ,

3 3 3

D e s n o z , C l a u d i n e , B e z a ' s f i r s t

w i f e ,

2 5 , 3 4 ,

3 3 2

Diana

o f P o i t i e r s , 3 0 0

Dragonnades i n C h a b l a i s ,

3 3 4

E

E c c l e s i a s t i c a l D i s c i p l i n e ,

2 4 7

E d i c t

o f

C h a t e a u b r i a n d , 7 2 ,

2 9 5 ; o f "July," 1 5 6 1 ,

1 3 2 ;

o f

"January,"

1 5 6 2 ,

2 0 1

Edward V I . ,

2 9 6 ,

2 9 7

E l i z a b e t h , Queen,

1 2 7

;

h e r i l l -

w i l l t o

G e n e v a ,

2 5 5

E n g l i s h

R e f o r m a t i o n ,

2 5 4 , f o i l .

"

E s c a l a d e , " t h e , 3 4 6 ,

3 4 7 ;

monument o f ,

3 4 8

E s p e n s e , C l a u d e d ' , 1 9 5

F

F a r e l ,

W i l l i a m ,

4 1 ,

4 2 ,

8 3

F i e l d , M r . , 2 6 7



374

Index

F o n t a i n e b l e a u , Assembly

o f

N o t a b l e s a t , no, 1 2 2

F r a n c i s

I I . ,

3 0 2

F r e d e r i c k , Duke o f WUrtem-

b e r g , 2 8 5

F r o i d m o n t ,

Abbot o f ,

5 , 1 6 , 2 0

G

G a l l a r s ,

N i c h o l a s

d e s , 1 5 6 ,

1 9 8

G e n e v a , t h e "Five o f Geneva,"

7 0 , 7 4 , n o t e

;

Academie o r

U n i v e r s i t y o f , 1 0 4 ; i t s s c h o o l s ,

1 0 5 ,

1 0 6 ;

o r ig i n a l p r o f e s s o r s ,

1 0 7

;

d o c t r i n a l

s u b s c r i p t i o n

o f

s t u d e n t s

a b a n d o n e d , 1 0 8

;

t h e o l o g i c a l i n s t r u c t i o n and

s t a t e o f , 2 4 4 ; l o y a l t y t o

Henry I V . , 3 2 4

G t t p p i n g e n , 8 5

Greek

New

Testament e d i t e d

by

B e z a , 2 3 4

G r i n d a l , B i s h o p o f London,

2 5 6 , 2 6 0

G r y n s e u s ,

3 3 3 ,

3 4 1

G u a l t e r ,

Rudolph,

2 5 7 ,

f o i l . ,

2 6 7

G u i s e , Duke o f ,

1 4 3 ,

2 2 5 ,

2 2 6

I I

H a t o n ,

C l a u d e ,

2 1 1

Henry I I . ,

7 3

Henry

I I I . ( p r e v i o u s l y Duke

o f

A n j o u ) , 1 5 8

Henry

I V . , Beza r e m o n s t r a t e s

w i t h him o n

h i s a b j u r a t i o n ,

3 2 1 ,

f o i l . ;

he

c o r r e s p o n d s

w i t h B e z a ,

3 4 3 , 344 ;

h i s i n t e r

v i e w

w i t h h i m , i b . ; c a l l s

him

h i s

" f a t h e r , "

3 4 5

H e r e t i c s ,

punishment

o f , 5 2 ,

f o i l .

H e s s e , P h i l i p ,

Landgrave

o f , 8 5

Hotman, F r a n c o i s ,

8 4 , 1 1 3

I

/ c o n e s , t h e g a l l e r y o f p o r t r a i t s

o f

l e a r n e d

and

p i o u s

men,

b y

B e z a ,

3 1 2 - 3 1 4

J

"

J a n u a r y , "

E d i c t

o f ,

2 0 1

J a r n a c , b a t t l e o f ,

2 4 3

J e w e l ,

B i s h o p J o h n ,

2 5 5

"

J u l y " E d i c t o f , 1 3 2

J u v e n i l i a ,

t h e , 2 7 - 3 1 , 4 6 ,

4 7

K

Knox, J o h n , 2 5 5

L

L a b o r i e ,

A n t o i n e , 7 0

L a i n e z , 1 9 7

La R o c h e l l e , Synod o f ,

2 4 5 ,

f o i l .

La

Roche s u r Yon,

P r i n c e ,

1 2 5

L a u s a n n e ,

3 9

; c o l l o q u y a t , b e

tween

Roman

C a t h o l i c s

and

R e f o r m e r s , 40-43

;

i c o n o c l a s m

and p i l l a g e i n

c a t h e d r a l

o f ,

4 4

; Academie o r

U n i v e r s i t y

o f , 4 5 ; Beza becomes a p r o

f e s s o r ,

4 6 ;

t h e

"

F i v e

S c h o l a r s

o f

L a u s a n n e , "

7 1 ,

f o i l .

;

B e z a

l e a v e s

L a u s a n n e ,

I O I , 1 0 2

L e c t , J a c q u e s , 3 3 3

Le P e i n t r e , C l a u d e , 3 5

L ' E s p i n e , Jean

d e , 1 9 8

L ' H o s p i t a l , C h a n c e l l o r M i c h e l

d e ,

1 4 1 , 1 5 8 - 1 6 0

L o n g u e v i l l e , Duke o f ,

1 2 5

L o r d ' s S u p p e r , C o n t r o v e r s i e s r e

s p e c t i n g ,

2 7 2 , f o i l . , 2 8 1 , f o i l .

L o r r a i n e ,

C a r d i n a l

C h a r l e s , o f ,

1 3 4 ,

1 4 4 ,

f o i l .

;

r e p l i e s t o

B e z a , 1 9 2 ,

f o i l . ,

2 8 2

L u t h e r , M a r t i n , 1 , 2

M

Maimbourg,

L o u i s , 3 7

Marbach,

90

M a r g a r e t

o f

V a l o i s ,

1 5 8

M a r l o r a t , A u g u s t i n , 1 5 6 ,

1 9 8

M a r o t ,

C l e m e n t , t r a n s l a t e s p a r t

o f

t h e

p s a l m s , 2 8 8 , f o i l . ; h i s

"

L e t t e r

t o

t h e

L a d i e s

o f

F r a n c e , "

2 9 1 ,

2 9 2 , 3 1 3 , 3 1 4



Index

375

M a r t y r , P e t e r ( V e r m i g l i ) ,

1 9 6 -

1 9 8

Mary,

Queen

o f S c o t s ,

3 0 2

May,

Thibaud

d e , assumed

name

o f

B e z a ,

3 3

M e l a n c h t h o n , P h i l i p , I , 2 , 90

M e r c i e r ,

a V a u d o i s , s a v e s Ge

n e v a ,

3 4 7

M e r i n d o l, 1 1 9

M e r l i n , John Raymond, 1 5 6

M i c h o d u s ,

J . , 4 1

Mildmay, S i r Thomas, 3 2 5

Moncontour, b a t t l e o f , 2 4 3

M o n t b e l i a r d ,

8 4

;

c o n f e r e n c e

a t ,

2 8 5 ,

2 8 6

Montfaucon, B i s h o p o f Lau

s a n n e ,

4 0

Montgomery, C o u n t ,

1 2 0

N

N a s s a u , Count

L o u i s o f ,

2 4 6

N a v a r r e , A n t o i n e o f

B o u r b o n ,

King o f , no, f o i l . ;

1 2 5 , 1 5 8 ,

2 0 6 ,

f o i l .

N a v a r r e ,

Henry

o f ,

2 4 6 ,

2 5 3

;

s e e Henry

I V .

N a v a r r e , Jeanne

d ' A l b r e t ,

Queen

o f ,

in, 1 1 4 , f o i l . , 1 5 8 ,

2 1 2

N e r a c , 1 1 0 , f o i l .

O

O c h i n o , B e r n a r d i n o , 2 7 5 , f o i l .

O l i v e t a n u s , R o b e r t ,

3 3 0

O t t o ,

Henry,

E l e c t o r P a l a t i n e ,

8 5

P

P a r i s , Archbishop

o f , s p e c i a l l y

condemns B e z a ' s C o n f e s s i o

C h r i s t i a n a : F i d e i , 2 7 0

P a r k h u r s t , B i s h o p , , 2 5 7

P a s q u i e r ,

P r e s i d e n t E t i e n n e , 2 8 ,

4 9 , 5 0

P a s s y , S e i g n e u r

d e ,

s e e

Spifame

P e u c e r , G a s p a r d ,

3 2 9

P o i s s y ,

C o l l o q u y

o f ,

1 3 4 , 1 5 7 ,

f o i l .

P o l t r o t , 2 2 6

P r e d e s t i n a t i o n ,

2 7 2

P r e s b y t e r i a n

movement

i n

E ng

l a n d , B e z a ' s sympathy w i t h ,

2 6 6

P s a l m s ,

t h e Huguenot, 2 8 7 , f o i l . ,

•

t r a n s l a t i o n

c o m p l e t e d , 2 9 9

; i n

f a v o u r a t

c o u r t

o f

F r a n c i s I . ,

2 9 9 ,

3 0 0 ; l a w s

a g a i n s t ,

3 0 0 ;

s u n g on

t h e

P r e " aux C l e r c s ,

3 0 1 ; t h e i r s i n g i n g

a d v o c a t e d

by M o n t l u c , B i s h o p

o f Va

l e n c e , 3 0 1 ,

3 0 2

; Beza o b t a i n s

a

r i g h t

t o

p r i n t

t h e m ,

3 0 3

;

g r e a t

number

o f

e d i t i o n s ,

i b . ;

t h e i r

i n f l u e n c e on s p r e a d

o f

P r o t e s t a n t i s m , 3 0 4

R

Raymond, Florimond d e , 3 7 ; on

p s a l m - s i n g i n g ,

3 0 4 , 3 0 5 ; a c

c o u n t o f a

v i s i t

t o

B e z a , 3 4 2 ,

3 4 3

S

S a i n c t e s ,

Claude

d e , 1 9 4 , 2 3 0 ,

2 8 1 , 2 8 2

S a i n t A u g u s t i n e ,

1 9 1

S a i n t B a r t h o l o m e w ' s Day, Mas

s a c r e o f ,

2 4 8 , f o i l .

;

r e f u g e e s

o f , a t

Geneva, 2 5 0

S a i n t e - C a t h e r i n e ,

f o r t o f ,

3 4 4 ,

3 4 5

S a i n t Germain e n L a y e , 1 4 0 ,

f o i l . ; c o n f e r e n c e a t , 2 0 2

S a i n t P a u l , F r a n c o i s d e , 1 5 6

S a i n t

Q u e n t i n ,

b a t t l e

o f ,

8 8 ,

8 9

S a l e s , F r a n c i s o f , a t t e m p t s t o

c o n v e r t

B e z a ,

3 3 4 , f o i l . ;

how

h e

' c o n v e r t s " t h e d i s t r i c t o f

C h a b l a i s , i b .

S a n d y s , B i s h o p , 2 6 0 , 2 6 7

S a n t a C r o c e ,

C a r d i n a l ,

1 2 8 ,

2 1 1

S a v o y , t h e

Duke

o f , t r i e s t o t a k e

Geneva by an e s c a l a d e , 3 4 6 ,

f o i l .

S a y o u s , A . , 5 0 ,

3 1 6

S c h l o s s e r ,

F .

C ,

3 2 1

S e q u i n , B e r n a r d , 7 2



376

Index

S e r v e t u s , M i c h a e l ,

5 3

S p i f a m e , J a c q u e s P a u l ,

B i s h o p

o f

N e v e r s ,

becomes

a

P r o t e s t

a n t

m i n i s t e r ,

2 4 1

; e x e c u t e d

a t

Geneva f o r a d u l t e r y , 2 4 2 ,

2 4 3

S t r a s s b u r g ,

84

S u l z e r , Simon, 8 3

Summa l o t i u s

C h r i s t i a n i s m i ,

2 7 0 ,

2 7 1

S u r i a n o , V e n e t i a n a m b a s s a d o r ,

1 2 9

S w i s s e n v o y s

a t

French

c o u r t ,

8 6

Synod o f

La

R o c h e l l e ,

2 4 5 , f o i l .

T

T a g a u t , J . , 1 0 7

Tournon,

C a r d i n a l , 7 4 , 1 5 8 ,

1 6 0 , 1 8 6 , 1 8 7 , 1 9 3

T r a c t a t i o n e s T h e o l o g i c c e ,

2 6 9

V

V a s s y , Massacre

o f , 2 0 4 ,

f o i l .

Vaud, t h e

P a y s

d e , c o n q u e r e d

by

t h e

B e r n e s e ,

3 9

;

Reforma

t i o n i n t r o d u c e d

i n ,

40

V a u d o i s , o r W a l d e n s e s , p e r s e

c u t e d , 8 0 , f o i l .

; i n t e r c e s s i o n s

i n t h e ir

b e h a l f ,

8 2 ,

f o i l .

V e s t m e n t s , Beza u p o n ,

2 6 5

V e z e l a y , B e z a ' s

b i r t h p l a c e , S e c

ond Crusade p r e a c h e d

a t , 3 ,

4 ; . 3 2 9

V i g i l i u s , i g t

V ir et , P i e rr e, 3 9 , 4 1 , 7 2 , 7 3 , 9 7 ,

f o i l . , 1 0 2

V o g t , S i m p e r t , S 3

W

W a l d e n s e s ,

s e e Vaudois

W e s t p h a l , J o a c h i m ,

2 7 3

W i l c o x ,

M r . ,

2 6 7

W i n g l e ,

P a u l d e ,

3 3 0

W i t h e r s , G e o r g e , 2 5 9

Wolmar, M e l c h i o r , 7 , 3 0 8

Wurtemberg, Duke C h r i s t o p h e r

o f , 8 5 ;

Duke F r e d e r i c k

o f , 2 8 5

Z

Z a s t r i s e l l , G . S . o f , 3 2 6 , n o t e



Heroes

of

the

Reformation

EDITED BY

SAMUEL

MACAULEY

JACKSON,

P r o f e s s o r o f Church H i s t o r y , New

York

U n i v e r s i t y .

Fully i l l u s t r a t e d . E a c h 1 2 o , c l o t h , $1.50

A Series of biographies of the leaders i n the Protes

tant Reformation.

The l i t e r a r y

s k i l l a nd the standing a s

scholars

of the

w r i t e r s

who

have

agreed

t o

prepare

these

biographies

w i l l , i t i s

believed,

ensure

f o r

them a wide acceptance on

the part not only of special students of the period but of

the

general reader.

Full use

w i l l

be made i n

them

of the

correspondence of t h e i r several subjects a nd of a ny other

autobiographical

material that may be

a v a i l a b l e .

The

general reader

w i l l be

pleased

t o find

a l l

these

c i t a t i o n s

translated into English a nd

the

scholar t o

f i n d them

referred

s p e c i f i c a l l y to

t h e i r

source. The value

of these

volumes w i l l

be

furthered

by

comprehensive

l i t e r a r y a nd

h i s t o r i c a l

references

a nd

adequate

indexes.

I t

i s , of

course,

the

case that

each one of the

great

teachers whose

career

i s t o be presented

i n

t h i s s e r i e s

looked a t r e l i g i o u s truth a nd a t the problems of Chris

t i a n i t y from a somewhat d i f f e r e n t point of view. On t h i s

ground

an important feature i n each

volume of

the s e r i e s

w i l l

be a precise a nd comprehensive statement, given as

nearly as practicable i n the language of the o r i g i n a l

w r i t e r , of the e s s e n t i a l points i n h i s theology.

I t

i s

planned

that

the

narratives

s h a l l

be

not

mere

e u l o g i e s , but

c r i t i c a l

biographies ; and the defects

of

judgment or s i n s of omission

or

commission on

the parts

of the subjects w i l l not

be passed

by or

extenuated.

On

the

other

hand

they w i l l

do f u l l j u s t i c e t o the

nobility

of

character a nd

t o the d i s t i n c t i v e

contribution

t o

human

progress made by each one of these great Protestant

l ea ders of the

Reformation period.

The s e r i e s

w i l l

avoid

the partisanship of writers l i k e Merle d'Aubigne, and, i n

the opposite direction, of the group of which Johannes

Janssen

may

be

taken

a s

a

type.



HEROESOFTHEREFORMATION

I .—Martin Luther ( 1 4 8 3 - 1 5 4 6 ) .

The

Hero Of T he Refor.

Mation. By

Henry E y s t e r

J a c o b s , D.D., LL.D. ( T h i e l

C o l l e g e , 1 8 7 7 , and 1 8 9 1 , r e s p e c t i v e l y ) ;

P r o f e s s o r o f

S y s

t e m a t i c T h e o l o g y , E v a n g e l i c a l L u t h e r a n

S e m i n a r y , P h i l a

d e l p h i a ,

P a .

; a u t h o r o f " T he

L u t h e r a n

Movement

i n

England

d u r i n g

t h e

R e i g n s

o f

Henry

V I I I .

and

Edward

V I . , and i t s L i t e r a r y Monuments." With 7 3 i l l u s t r a t i o n s ,

1 2 ° , $ 1 . 5 0 .

I I .—Philip Melanchthon

( 1 4 9 7 - 1 5 6 0 ) .

The Protestant

Preceptor

Of

Germany,

By James William

R i c h a r d ,

D.D.

( P e n n s y l v a n i a

C o l l e g e , 1 8 8 6 )

;

P r o f e s s o r o f Homi-

l e t i c s , Lutheran T h e o l o g i c a l S e m i n a r y , G e t t y s b u r g ,

P a ,

With 3 5

i l l u s t r a t i o n s .

1 2 ° , $ 1 . 5 0 .

I I I .

—Desiderius Erasmus

( 1 4 6 7 - 1 5 3 6 ) . The

Humanist I n

T he

Service

Of

T he

Reformation.

By

Ephraim

Emer-

t o n , Ph.D. ( L e i p z i g U n i v e r s i t y , 1 8 7 6 ) ;

P r o f e s s o r

o f

E c c l e

s i a s t i c a l H i s t o r y , Harvard U n i v e r s i t y , Cambridge, M a s s . ;

a u t h o r o f The Middle Ages ( 3 7 5 - 1 3 0 0 ) . " With 3 6 i l

l u s t r a t i o n s .

1 2 ° , $ 1 . 5 0 .

I V .—

Theodore

Beza ( 1 5 1 9 - 1 6 0 5 ) . The

Counsellor Of

T he

French

Reformation.

By

Henry Martyn B a i r d , Ph.D.

( C o l l e g e o f

New

J e r s e y , 1 8 6 7 ) ; D.D. ( R u t g e r s

C o l l e g e ,

1 8 7 7 ) ;

LL.D. ( C o l l e g e

o f

New

J e r s e y , 1 S 8 2 ) ; L.H.D.

( P r i n c e t o n

U n i v e r s i t y ,

1 8 9 6 )

;

P r o f e s s o r

o f

t h e

Greek

Language and L i t e r a t u r e , New York U n i v e r s i l y ; a u t h o r

o f The Huguenots,"

6

v o l s . , w i t h 2 4

i l l u s t r a t i o n s .

1 2 ° , $ 1 . 5 0 .

The following

are

i n preparation

:

—

V.—

Huldreich Zwingli

( 1 4 8 4 - 1 5 3 1 ) . The

Reformer Of

German Switzerland. By Samuel

Macauley

J a c k s o n ,

LL.D. (Washington

and Lee U n i v e r si t y , 1 8 9 2 ) ; D.D.

(New York U n i v e r s i t y , 1 8 9 3 ) ; P r o f e s s o r o f

Church His

t o r y ,

New

York

U n i v e r s i t y .

E d i t o r

o f

t h e

S e r i e s .

V I . -John

Calvin

( 1 5 0 9 - 1

5 6 4 ) .

The Founder Of Reformed

Protestantism.

By

W i l l i s t o n W a l k e r , Ph.D.

( L e i p z i g

U n i v e r s i t y ,

1 8 8 8 ) ; D.D.

( A d e l b e r t C o l l e g e , 1 8 9 4 , Amherst

C o l l e g e , 1 S 9 5 ) ; P r o f e s s o r o f

Germanic and Western Church

H i s t o r y ,


S e m i n a r y ,

H a r t f o r d , Conn.

; a u t h o r

o f

"

T he

C r e e d s and

P l a t f o r m s o f C o n g r e g a t i o n a l i s m . "

V I I .—John Knox ( 1 5 0 5 - 1 5 7 2 ) . The Hero Of T he Scotch

Reformation. By Henry Cowan, D.D., ( A b e r d e e n ,

1 8 8 8 ) ,

P r o f e s s o r

o f

Church

H i s t o r y , t h e

U n i v e r s i t y

o f

A b e r d e e n , S c o t l a n d ;

a u t h o r

o f

" Landmarks

o f

Church

H i s t o r y , " " The I n f l u e n c e o f t h e S c o t t i s h C hurch upon

C h r i s t e n d o m . "

VIII.—Thomas Cranmer ( 1 4 8 9 - 1 5 5 6 ) . The English Re

Former.

( A u t h o r

w i l l be

announced l a t e r . )

G.

P .

PUTNAM'S SONS, New York And

London





THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE

STAMPEDBELOW

AN

INITIAL

FINEOF

25 CENTS

WILL BE A S S E S S E D FOR

FAILURE

TO RETURN

THIS

BOOK ON THE

D A T E DUE.

THE P E NAL TY

WILL INCREASE TO S O C E N T S ON THE FOURTH

DAY

AND TO SI.OO ON

THE

S E V E N T H

OVERDUE.



i

74389