Читать книгу History of the Reformation in Europe in the Time of Calvin (Vol. 1-8) - J. H. Merle D'Aubigné - Страница 72

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=FRANCIS PUNISHES BOTH PARTIES.=

MARGARET and her husband, with the Bishop du Bellay, alarmed at the storm, resolved to lay their complaints before Francis I. The kingly authority was threatened; these hot-headed 'wallet-bearers' were the predecessors of those who instigated the murders of Henry III. and Henry IV. The King of Navarre on the one hand, and the Bishop of Paris on the other, laid before their sovereign an alarming picture of the state of the capital. 'The blood of Berquin does not satisfy these fanatics,' they said; 'they are calling for fresh acts of cruelty.... And who will be their victims now?... They are planning a crime, a revolt!'307 But while Francis was listening to his sister's denunciations with one ear, he was receiving those of the Sorbonne in the other. 'Sedition!' said one party. 'Heresy!' cried the other. 'Sire,' repeated the theologians incessantly, 'shut the pulpits against Roussel and his colleagues.'308 Thus pulled in different directions, the king, puzzled which to believe, resolved to punish both parties alike. 'I will confine them all to their houses,' he said; 'Beda with his orators on one side, and Gerard Roussel with his preachers on the other. We shall then have some peace and be able at our leisure to examine these contradictory accusations.'309 Thus, at the same moment, Beda, Maillard, Ballue, and Bouchigny of the church party, and Roussel, Courault, and Berthaud of the evangelical party, received orders not to leave their houses. The schoolmaster thus punished the quarrelsome boys by putting them in opposite corners.

Preparations were made for investigating the two cases, but the matter was not so easy as the king had imagined. The theologians were indignant at finding themselves placed in the same rank with the Lutherans. Far from submitting to be prosecuted for sedition, they claimed to prosecute the others for heresy. They would not be the accused or even the accusers; they took their stand as inquisitors of the faith and as judges.310

=BEDA BREAKS LOOSE.=

The terrible Beda, shut up in the college of Montaigu,311 and not daring to go out, found himself condemned, considering his restless temper, to the severest penance. At first he was content to keep his agents at work, who were ready at any moment to bear his orders. But when he learnt that his right to judge was disputed, and that he was to be put in the same rank with Roussel, the turbulent doctor could restrain himself no longer. His room was too narrow to contain his anger. He made light of the king's commands, and, disobeying his orders, mounted his mule and rode into the city. From time to time he stopped. The catholic tribune, the defender of the pope, was soon recognised; a crowd gathered round him; he addressed the people from his mule, and did his best to arouse their fanatical passions. While the catholics flocked round him, some evangelicals were watching the orator and his audience from a distance. 'I saw him riding on his mule,' says Siderander.312 Beda thought himself stronger than the king, and in some respects he was; he reigned over the savage appetites of an ignorant and fanatical populace. Such was the power in the sixteenth century by which the pope triumphed more than once in the capital of France and elsewhere.

Beda was vigorously supported by all his subalterns: Le Picard especially, who had not been put under arrest, expressed his indignation in his fanatical discourses that the king should desire to hold the balance even between the Church and heresy; and advocated a resort to force to insure the triumph of the oppressed papacy. A riot seemed about to break out. The friends of learning and of the king were alarmed. Might not the Roman party take advantage of Francis's absence to establish another power than his in Paris, and to treat this monarch as the Seize in after years treated his grandson Henry III.?

The King of Navarre and the Bishop of Paris hastened to Meaux, where Francis was staying with his court, and informed him that Beda, Le Picard, and their colleagues had thrown aside all reserve, and that, unless energetic measures were taken, the public tranquillity and perhaps his crown might be endangered. The king gave way to a paroxysm of anger. Beda's freak of parading the streets of Paris on his mule, notwithstanding the prohibition, was one of those insults that Francis felt very keenly. He ordered Cardinal Duprat and the Bishop of Senlis to make all haste to Paris, and stop the intrigues of the Sorbonne and the promenades of Beda, and also arrest Le Picard. 'As for the inquiry about heresy,' said the king, 'I reserve that for myself.'313 Heresy was treated with more tenderness than the first catholic faculty of christendom. Francis began to find the Lutherans gentle as lambs in comparison with the hot-headed papists. Certain personages, whose arrival was soon to be announced by the officers of his court, confirmed him in this opinion.

=SORBONNE THREATENS FRANCIS.=

Scarcely had the two prelates left Meaux, when a deputation from the Sorbonne arrived. When Francis received them, he was evidently in a bad humour, but he did not address them sharply, as the courtiers had expected. The theologians approached him with all the required formalities; they desired, if possible, to win him by meekness. But by degrees they raised their tone; they beset him with their accusations, and irritated him with their pretensions, repeating again and again that it was the prerogative of the Sorbonne, and not of the prince, to give their opinion in a matter of heresy. There was some truth in this, but the truth did not please Francis, who claimed to be master in everything. Still he contained himself, until the doctors, coming to threats of revolt, and shouting their loudest, reminded him of the possibility of a deposition of kings by the popes.314 These recollections of the middle ages, with which they menaced the haughty monarch, who claimed to begin a new era, and who desired that the Reformation should serve at least to abate the pretensions of Rome, and emancipate princes from its yoke, made the king shudder, and aroused a terrible fit of anger. His face grew red, his eyes flashed fire, and putting aside his usual courtesy, he drove the reverend fathers from his presence, calling them beasts, and saying: 'Get about your business, you donkeys!'315 At this moment Francis inaugurated modern times—though certainly in a fashion rather cavalier.

However, Cardinal Duprat was on the road. What would he do, this vile courtier of the popes, who at their demand had destroyed the bulwark of the Gallican liberties, and who hated the Reformation? The Sorbonne placed their hope in him. But Duprat served his master before all things, and he could not hide from himself that the hot-headed catholics were threatening the king's crown. He resolved to strike heavily. As soon as he reached Paris, he had Le Picard arrested, as being the most compromised. He confined him in his own palace, seized his books and papers, and had him interrogated by the advocate-general. The seditious bachelor raved in his prison, and protested aloud against the indignity of such treatment; but all his storming was of no use. He was condemned to be shut up in the abbey of St. Magloire, and forbidden to teach.316

Nor did Duprat stop here. He was shocked that paltry priests should dare speak against that royal majesty of Francis I. for which he, a cardinal and chancellor, had nothing but humble flatteries. He never ceased to be the mortal enemy of the Gospel, and originated many a measure of persecution against the reformed; but his chief quality was a slavish devotion to the wishes of his master. To the mendicant monks sent out by the Sorbonne he opposed 'inquirers'—the name he gave to the spies who were in every parish, and who skilfully interrogated men and women, nobles and sacristans, to find out whether the preachers or the friars had attacked the king's government in their hearing. Many of the townspeople were unwilling to say anything; yet the clever and dreaded minister attained his ends, and having discovered the most refractory priests, he summoned them before him. This summons from a cardinal of the holy Church, from the most powerful person in the kingdom, alarmed these violent clerics; on a sudden their courage collapsed, and they appeared before his eminence with downcast eyes, trembling limbs, and confused manner. 'Who permitted or who authorised you to insult the king and to excite the people?' asked the haughty Duprat.317 The priests were too much terrified to conceal anything: 'It was with the consent and the good pleasure of our reverend masters,' they replied.318

The theologians of the Sorbonne were now summoned in their turn. They were quite as much alarmed as their creatures, and, seeing the danger, denied everything.319 They managed to take shelter behind certain clever reservations: they had hinted the insult, but they had not commanded it. At heart both chiefs and followers were all equally fanatical, and not one of them needed any stimulus to do his duty in this holy war. These reverend gentlemen, having thus screened themselves under denials, withdrew, fully convinced that no one would dare lay hands upon them. But a hundred Bedas would not have stopped the terrible cardinal. In the affair of the concordat, had he taken any notice of the fierce opposition of the sovereign courts, of the universities, or even of the clergy of France? Duprat smiled at his own unpopularity, and found a secret pleasure in attracting the general hatred upon himself. Catholics and evangelicals—he will brave and crush them all. He went to the bottom of the matter, and having discovered who were the Æoluses that had raised these sacerdotal tempests, he informed the king of the result.

=FRANCIS ACTS VIGOROUSLY.=

Francis had never been so angry with the catholics. He had met with men who dared resist him!... It was his pride, his despotism, and not his love of truth, that was touched. Besides, was he not the ally of Henry VIII., and was he not seeking to form a league with the protestants of Germany? Severe measures against the ultramontane bigots would convince his allies of the sincerity of his words. He had another motive still: Francis highly valued the title 'patron of letters,' and he looked upon the friars as their enemy. He put himself forward as the champion of the learning of the age, and not of the Gospel; but for a moment it was possible to believe in the triumph of the Reformation under the patronage of the Renaissance.

=CONDEMNATION OF BEDA.=

On the 16th of May, 1533, the indefatigable Beda, the fiery Le Picard, and the zealous friar Mathurin, the three most intrepid supporters of the papacy in France, appeared before the parliament. An event so extraordinary filled both university and city with surprise and emotion. Devout men raised their eyes to heaven; devout women redoubled their prayers to Mary; but Beda and his two colleagues, proud of their Romish orthodoxy, appeared before the court, and compared themselves with the confessors of Christ standing before the proconsuls of Rome. No one could believe in a condemnation; was not the King of France the eldest son of the Church? But the disciples of the pope did not know the monarch who then reigned over France. If they wanted to show what a priest was like, the sovereign wanted to show what a king was like. When signing the letters-royal in which Francis had suggested the arrest to parliament, he exclaimed: 'As for Beda, on my word, he shall never return to Paris!'320 The king's ordinance had been duly registered; the court was complete; and not a sound could be heard, when the president, turning to the three doctors, said: 'Reverend gentlemen, you are banished from Paris, and will henceforward live thirty leagues from this capital; you are at liberty, however, to select what residences you please, provided they be at a distance from each other. You will leave the city in twenty-four hours. If you break your ban, you will incur the penalty of death. You will neither preach, give lessons, nor hold any kind of meeting, and you will keep up no communication with one another, until the king has ordered otherwise.'

Beda, Le Picard, Mathurin, and their friends, were all terrified. Francis had, however, reserved for the last a decision which must have abated their courage still more. As if he wished to show the triumph of evangelical ideas, he cancelled the injunction against Roussel; and Margaret's almoner was able once more to preach the Gospel in the capital. 'If you have any complaint against him,' said the king to the Sorbonne, 'you can bring him before the lawful tribunals.'321

This decree of the parliament fell like a thunderbolt in the midst of the Sorbonne. Stunned and stupefied, unable to say or do anything, the doctors shook off their stupor only to be seized with a fit of terror. They visited each other, conversed together, and whispered their alarms. Had the fatal moment really come which they had feared so long? Was Francis about to follow the example of Frederick of Saxony and Henry of England? Would the cause of the holy Roman Church perish under the attacks of its enemies? Would France join the triumphal procession of the Reformation?... The old men, pretty numerous at the Sorbonne, were overwhelmed. One of them, a broken-down, feeble hypochondriac, was so terribly disturbed by the decree, that he fairly lost his senses. He suffered a perpetual nightmare. He fancied he saw the king and the parliament, with all France, destroying the Sorbonne, and trampling on the necks of the doctors while their palace was burning. The poor man expired in the midst of these terrible phantoms.322 Yet the blow which stunned some, aroused others. The more intrepid doctors met and conferred together, and strove to encourage their partisans and to enlist new ones: they took no rest night or day.323 Unable to believe that this decree really expressed the king's will, they determined to send a deputation to the south of France, whither he had gone; but Francis had not forgotten their hint about the deposition of kings by the popes, and, angry as ever, he rejected every demand.

=HOPES OF THE REFORMERS.=

Nor was the Sorbonne alone agitated: all the city was in commotion, some being against the decree, others for it. The bigots, in their compassion for 'the excellent Beda,'324 exclaimed: 'What an indignity, to expose so profound a divine, so high-born a man, to such a harsh punishment!'325 But, on the other hand, the friends of learning leapt for joy.326 A great movement seemed to be accomplishing; it was a solemn time. Some of the most intelligent men imagined that France was about to be regenerated and transformed.... Sturm in his college was delighted. What news to send to Germany, to Bucer, to Melanchthon!... He ran to his study, took up his pen, and wrote in his transport: 'Things are changing, the hinges are turning.... It is true there still remain here and there a few aged Priams, surrounded by servile creatures, who cling to the things that are passing away.... But, with the exception of this small number of belated men, no one any longer defends the cause of the Phrygian priests.'327 The classic Sturm could only compare the spirit of the ultramontanists to the superstition and fanaticism of the priests of Phrygia, so notorious for those qualities in ancient times. But the friends of the Reform and of the Renaissance were indulging in most exaggerated illusions. A few old folks, mumbling their Ave-Marias and Pater-nosters, seemed to them to constitute the whole strength of the papacy. They had great hopes of the new generation: 'The young priests,' they said, 'are rushing into the shining paths of wisdom.'328 Francis I. having shown an angry face to the Sorbonne, every Frenchman was about to follow his example, according to the belief of the friends of letters. They indulged in transports of joy, and, as it were, a universal shout welcomed the opening of a new era. But alas! France was still far distant from it; she was not judged worthy of such happiness. Instead of seeing the triple banner of the Gospel, morality, and liberty raised upon her walls, that great and mighty nation was destined, owing to Romish influence, to pass through centuries of despotism and wild democracy, frivolity and licentiousness, superstition and unbelief.

=THE FOUR DOCTORS EXILED.=

In the midst of the contrary movements now agitating Paris, there was a certain number of spectators who, while leaning more to one party than to the other, set about studying the situation. In one of the colleges was a student of Alsace, the son of an ironmonger at Strasburg, who, wishing to give himself a Greek or Latin name, called himself Siderander, 'man of iron.' Such, however, was not his nature; he was particularly curious; he had a passion for picking up news, and his great desire to know other people's business made him supple as the willow, rather than hard as the metal. Siderander was an amiable well-educated young man, and he gives us a pretty faithful picture of the better class of students of that day. On Monday, May 26, he was going to hear a lecture on logic by Sturm, who, leaving the paths of barren scholasticism, was showing by example as well as by precept how clearness of thought may be united with elegance of language. Just as the Alsatian was approaching the college of Montaigu, where Sturm lectured, he met with a piece of good-luck. He saw an immense crowd of students and citizens collected in front of the college, where they had been waiting since the morning to witness the departure of the Hercules of the Sorbonne.329 He ran as fast as he could, his heart throbbing with joy at the thought of seeing Beda, the great papist, going into banishment.... For such a sight, the student would have walked from Strasburg. The rumour had spread through Paris that the three or four disgraced doctors were to leave the capital on that day. Everybody wished to see them: some for the joy they felt at their disgrace; others, to give vent to their sorrow. But, sad misfortune! the lucky chance which had delighted the student failed him. The government was alarmed, and fearing a riot, the exiles did not appear. The crowd was forced to disperse without seeing them, and Siderander went away in great disappointment. The next morning, at an early hour, the four culprits, Beda, Le Picard, Mathurin, and a Franciscan, came forth under guard and without noise. The doctors, humiliated at being led out of the city like malefactors, did not even raise their heads. But the precautions of the police were useless: many people were on the look-out, the news spread in a moment through the quarter, and a crowd of burgesses, monks, and common people filled the streets to see the celebrated theologians pass, dejected, silent, and with downcast eyes. The glory of the Sorbonne had faded; even that of Rome was dimmed; and it seemed to many as if the papacy was departing with its four defenders. The devout catholics gave way to sighs and groans, indignation and tears; but at the very moment when these bigots were paying the last honours to popery, others were saluting the advent of the new times with transports of joy. 'They are sycophants,' said some among the crowd, 'banished from Paris on account of their lies and their traitorous proceedings.'330

The disciples of the Gospel did not confine themselves to words. Matters were in good train, and it was desirable to persevere until the end was reached. While the Sorbonne bent its head, the Reformation was looking up. The Queen of Navarre and her husband, with many politicians and men of rank, encouraged Roussel, Courault, and others to preach the Gospel fearlessly; even these evangelists were astonished at their sudden favour. Roussel in particular advanced timidly, asking whether the Church would not interpose its veto? But no; Bishop du Bellay, the diplomatist's brother, did not interfere. During the whole period of the king's absence, Paris was almost like a country in the act of reforming itself. Men thought themselves already secure of that religious liberty which, alas! was to cost three centuries of struggle and the purest blood, and whose lamentable defeats were to scatter the confessors of Jesus Christ into every part of the world. When a great good is to be bestowed on the human race, the deliverance is only accomplished by successive efforts. But at this time men thought they had attained the end at a single bound. From the pulpits that were opened to them in every quarter of Paris, the evangelists proclaimed that the truth had been revealed in Jesus Christ; that the Word of God, contained in the writings of the prophets and apostles, did not require to be sanctioned or interpreted by an infallible authority; and that whoever listened to it or read it with a sincere heart, would be enlightened and saved by it. The tutelage of the priests was abolished, and emancipated souls were brought into immediate contact with God and his revelation. The great salvation purchased by the death of Christ upon the cross was announced with power, and the friends of the Gospel, transported with joy, exclaimed: 'At last Christ is preached publicly in the pulpits of the capital, and all speak of it freely.331 May the Lord increase among us day by day the glory of his Gospel!'332

=SATIRES OF THE STUDENTS.=

The most serious causes always find defenders among trivial men, who do not thoroughly understand them, but yet despise their adversaries. The Reformation has no reason to be proud of some of its auxiliaries in the sixteenth century. A serious cause ought to be seriously defended; but history cannot pass by these manifestations, which are as much in her domain as those of another kind. Satire was not spared in this matter. The students especially delighted in it: they posted up a long placard, written carefully with ornamented letters in French verse, in which the four theologians were described in the liveliest and most fantastic colours.333 Two of their colleagues were also introduced, for the four doctors on whom the king's wrath had fallen were not the only criminals. A cordelier especially was notorious for his curious sermons, full of bad French and bad Latin, and still more notorious for the clever and popular eloquence he displayed, whenever a collection was to be made in favour of his order. This Pierre Cornu, who had been nicknamed des Cornes, was wonderfully touched off in the poem of the students. Groups of scholars, burgesses, and Parisian wits gathered round the placards, some bursting with laughter and others with anger. The vehement and ridiculous Cornu especially excited the mirth of the idlers. A profane author who had nothing to do with the Reformation, speaks of him in his writings:—'Ha! ha! Master Cornu,' said one, 'you are not the only man to have horns.... Friend Bacchus wears a pair; and so do Pan, and Jupiter Ammon and hosts besides.'—'Ha! ha! dear Master Cornibus,' said another, 'give me an ounce of your sermon, and I will make the collection in your parish.' Strange circumstance! The public voice seemed at this time opposed to these forerunners of the preachers of the League. The Sorbonne, however, had friends who replied to these jests by bursts of passion. 'The man who wrote these verses is a heretic,' they exclaimed.334 From insults they passed to threats; from threats they came to blows, and the struggle began. The bigots wished to pull down the placard. A creature of the Faculty succeeded; springing into the air, he tore it down and ran off with his spoil.335 Then the crowd dispersed.

=SORBONNE CALLS FOR THE STAKE.=

In that age placards played a great part, similar to that played by certain pamphlets in later times. There was no need to buy them at the bookseller's; everybody could read the impromptu tracts at the corners of the streets. Rome was not in the humour to leave these powerful weapons in the hands of her enemies, and the Sorbonne determined to appeal to the people against the abhorred race of innovators. It did not jest, like the youth of the schools; it went straight to the point, and invoked the stake against its adversaries. Two days after that on which the former placard was posted up, another was found on the walls, containing these unpolished verses:

To the stake! to the stake! with the heretic crew,

That day and night vexes all good men and true.

Shall we let them Saint Scripture and her edicts defile?

Shall we banish pure science for Lutherans vile?

Do you think that our God will permit such as these

To imperil our bodies and souls at their ease?

O Paris, of cities the flower and the pride,

Uphold that true faith which these heretics deride;

Or else on thy towers storm and tempest shall fall....

Take heed by my warning; and let us pray all

That the King of all kings will be pleased to confound

These dogs so accursed, where'er they be found,

That their names, like bones going fast to decay,

May from memory's tablets be clean wiped away.

To the stake! to the stake! the fire is their home!

As God hath permitted, let justice be done.

A crowd equally great assembled before this placard, as cruel as it was crafty. The writer appealed to the people of Paris; he entitled them 'the flower and pride of cities,' knowing that flattery is the best means of winning men's minds; and then he called for the stake. The 'stake' was the argument with which men opposed the Reform. 'Burn those who confute us!' This savage invocation was a home-thrust. Many of the citizens, kneeling down to write, copied out the placard, in order to carry it to every house: the press is less rapid, even in our days. Others committed the verses to memory, and walked along the streets singing the burden:

To the stake! to the stake! the fire is their home!

As God hath permitted, let justice be done.

These rude rhymes became the motto of their party; this cruel ballad of the sixteenth century erelong summoned the champions of the Church in various quarters to fatten the earth with the ashes of their enemies. Pierre Siderander happened to be in the crowd; noticing several papists copying the incendiary verses, the Strasburg student did the same, and sent copies to his friends. By this means they were handed down to our times.336

The next day there was a fresh placard. The Sorbonne, finding the people beginning to be moved, wished to arouse them thoroughly. This ballad was not confined to a general appeal to the stake; Roussel was mentioned by name as one who deserved to be burnt. The fanatical placards of the Sorbonnists were not so soon torn down as the satirical couplets of their pupils. They could be read for days together, such good watch did the sacristans keep over them.

But the Sorbonne did not limit themselves to a paper war; they worked upon the most eminent members of the parliament. Their zeal displayed itself on every side. 'Justice! justice!' they exclaimed; 'let us punish these detestable heretics, and pluck up Lutheranism, root and branch.'337 The whole city was in commotion; the most odious plots were concocted; and the matéologues, as the students called the defenders of the old abuses, took counsel at the Sorbonne every day.

=PROGRESS OF THE REFORM.=

In the midst of all this agitation the Reformation was advancing quietly but surely. While the Queen of Navarre boldly professed her living piety in the palace, and preachers proclaimed it from their pulpits to the believing crowd, evangelical men, still in obscurity, were modestly propagating around them a purer and a mightier faith. At this period Calvin spent four years in Paris (1529-1533), where he at first engaged in literature. It might have been thought that he would appear in the world as a man of letters, and not as a reformer. But he soon placed profane studies in the second rank, and devoted himself to the service of God, as we have seen. He would have desired not to enter forthwith upon a career of evangelical activity. 'During this time,' he said, 'my sole object was to live privately, without being known.' He felt the necessity of a time of silence and christian meditation. He would have liked to imitate Paul, who, after his conversion and his first preaching at Damascus, passed several quiet years in Arabia and Cilicia;338 but he had to combat error around him, and he soon took a step in advance. While Courault and Roussel were preaching in the churches to large audiences and dealing tenderly with the papacy, Calvin, displaying great activity,339 visited the different quarters of Paris where secret assemblies were held, and there proclaimed a more scriptural, a more complete, and a bolder doctrine. In his discourses he made frequent allusions to the dangers to which those were exposed who desired to live piously; and he taught them at the same time 'what magnanimity believers ought to possess when adversity draws them on to despair.'—'When things do not go as we wish,' he said, 'sadness comes over the mind and makes us forget all our confidence. But the paternal love of God is the foundation of an invincible strength which overcomes every trial. The divine favour is a shelter against all storms, from whatever quarter they may come.' And he usually ended his discourses, we are told, with these words: 'If God be for us, who can be against us?'340

Mere preaching did not satisfy Calvin: he entered into communication with all who desired a purer religion,341 made them frequent visits, and conversed seriously with them. He avoided no one, and cultivated the friendship of those whom he had formerly known. He advanced step by step, but he was always busy, and the doctrine of the Gospel made some progress every day. All persons rendered the strongest testimony to his piety.342 The friends of the Word of God gathered round him, and among them were many burgesses and common people, but there were nobles and college professors also.

These christians were full of hope, and even Calvin entertained the bold idea of winning the king, the university, and indeed France herself, over to the Gospel. Paris was in suspense. Every one thought that some striking and perhaps sudden change was about to take place in one direction or another. Will Rome or will the Reformation have the advantage? There were strong reasons for adopting the former opinion, and reasons hardly less powerful for adopting the latter. Discussions arose upon this point, even among friends. Men were on the look-out for anything that might help them to divine the future, and the more curious resorted to the various places where they hoped to pick up news. Public attention was particularly turned towards the Sorbonne, when it was known that the heads of the Roman party were holding council.

=PIERRE SIDERANDER.=

On the 23rd of May, 1533, Pierre Siderander (who was naturally inquisitive), instigated by a desire to learn what was going to happen, and wishing in particular to know what was doing in the theological clubs (for from them, he doubted not, would proceed the blow that would decide who should be the victors), stole into the buildings belonging to the faculty of divinity.343 He did not dare penetrate farther than the great gate: stopping there like any other lounger, he began to look at the pictures that were sold at the entrance of the building.344 But, with all his innocent air, his eyes and ears were wide open, trying to pick up a word or two that would tell him what was going on; for the doctors, as they went in or out talking together, must necessarily pass close by him. Pierre wasted his time sauntering about before the pictures of the saints and of the Virgin (which he looked upon as idolatrous). On a sudden he saw the illustrious Budæus coming out of the Sorbonne.345 At that time Budæus was playing the same part as the noble Chancellor l'Hôpital afterwards did: he was present in every place where it was necessary to moderate, enlighten, or restrain the hot-headed. He passed Siderander without saying a word, and quitted the building; but the curious student could not resist; he left his post and began to follow the celebrated hellenist, wishing to look at him at his ease, and hoping no doubt to learn something.346 'Am I not,' he said, 'the friend of his two sons who like myself attend the course of Latomus? Has not the eldest invited me to come and see his museum?347 Did not I go there the other day, and ought he not to return my visit along with his brother?' Siderander, who burnt with desire to know what was said in the assembly which the founder of the college of France had just left, quickened his pace; the words were already on his lips, when he suddenly stopped intimidated. Timidity was stronger than curiosity, and he soon lost sight of the man whom Erasmus called 'the prodigy of France.' And yet, had he asked him, he would perhaps have learnt what the Roman party was plotting, and been able to tell his friends the probable issue of the crisis. He had often asked the sons of Budæus what their father was planning.348 'He is much with the bishop,' answered they, 'but he is planning nothing.'349 Thus Siderander did all he could, but to no purpose, to elicit some interesting communication and to learn some rare news. He was unable to satisfy his extreme curiosity. 'And that is not all,' he said to himself, 'for if, instead of losing my time under the portico of the Sorbonne, I had been elsewhere, I might have learnt something.' He desired to be everywhere, and yet was nowhere. 'Ha!' he said with vexation as he returned from running after Budæus, 'while I throw my hook in at one place, the fish goes to another. Things occur in our quarter which the inhabitants of the others know nothing about, and we know nothing of what takes place elsewhere.350 Alas! everything assumes a threatening aspect; everything announces a violent storm.'351

=SIDERANDER'S CURIOSITY.=

The Sorbonne, the religious orders, and all fervent catholics, being convinced that the innovators, by exalting Jesus Christ and his Word, were humbling the Church and the papacy, were determined to wage a deadly war against them. They thought that if they first struck down the most formidable of their adversaries, they could easily disperse the rest of the rebel army. But against whom should the first blow be aimed? This was the subject of deliberation in those councils which the curious Siderander desired so much to overhear.

Before we learn what was preparing at the Sorbonne, we must enter more illustrious council-chambers, and transport ourselves to Bologna.

307 'Rex Navarræ instinctu uxoris et episcopus regem sollicitare ... seditionis crimen intendere.'—Sturm to Bucer.

308 'Gerardum removeat a concionibus.'—Corp. Ref. ii. p. 648.

309 'Placuit regi ut Beda cum suis oratoribus et G. Rufus, quisque in suis ædibus, tanquam privata custodia detineretur.'—Sturm to Bucer.

310 'Ut ne accusatores viderentur, sed opinatores tantum, et inquisitores hæreticæ pravitatis.'—Ibid.

311 'Tum bonus noster Beda in Monte suo Acuto manere coactus est.'—Siderander Bedroto.

312 'In mulo suo equitantem vidi.'—Siderander Bedroto.

313 'Judicium de hæresi sibi reservavit.'—Sturmius Bucero.

314 'Vociferati sunt seditiosissime, regi minantes ipsi.'—Melanchthon to Spalatin, Corp. Ref. ii. p. 685.

315 'Rex, quoniam esset exacerbatus, irrisit tanquam Arcadicorum pecorum.'—Sturm to Bucer.

316 H. de Coste, Le parfait Ecclésiastique, p. 73.

317 'Cujus vel permissu vel jussu populum commovissent et læsissent regem.'—Sturm to Bucer, ed. Schmidt.

318 'Responderunt ex consensu et placito magistrorum nostrorum.'—Sturm to Bucer, ed. Schmidt.

319 'Theologi cum pericula animadverterent, negabant.'—Ibid.

320 'Nunquam velit Bedam reverti.'—Sturm to Bucer.

321 'Gerardus libere concionatur; et imperatum theologis, si quid habeant negotii adversus eum, ut jure agant.'—Melanchthon to Spalatin, July 22. Corp. Ref. ii. p. 658.

322 'Senex quidem theologus hanc contumeliam theologici ordinis adeo ægre tulit, ut delirio vitam amiserit.'—Melanchthon to Spalatin. Corp. Ref. ii. p. 658.

323 'Ὁι θεολόγοι non die, non nocte, unquam cessant ab opere.'—Siderander, Strasburg MSS.

324 'Illi miserantur optimi Bedæ.'—Ibid.

325 'Hominem tam grandem natu, exilium tam durum pati oportere.'—Ibid.

326 'Audias alios qui gaudio exultent.'—Ibid.

327 'Vide rerum commutationem ... Praeter senes Priamos et paucos alios, nemo est qui faveat istis sacerdotibus Phrygiis.'—Sturm to Bucer.

328 'Juniores theologi jam sapere incipiunt.'—Ibid.

329 'Maximam turbam ante collegium Montis Acuti vidi.'—Siderander Bedroto.

330 'Beda urbe pulsus cum aliis quibusdam sycophantis.'—Melanchthon to Spalatin, Corp. Ref. ii. p. 658.

331 'Palam prædicare Christum quidam cœperunt, omnes loqui liberius.'—Bucer to Blaarer. Strasburg MSS.

332 'Christus evangelii gloriam augeat.'—Melanchthon to Spalatin. Corp. Ref. ii. p. 658.

333 'In qua pulcherrime suisque coloribus omnes isti theologi depingebantur.'—Siderander Bedroto.

334 'Alii auctorem clamabant esse hæreticum.'—Siderander Bedroto.

335 'Tandem nescio quis delator dilaceravit.'—Ibid.

336 'Quos cum viderem, descripsi et ipse,' and here follow the verses. Schmidt, G. Roussel. Pièces Justificatives, p. 205.

337 'Ut supplicium de detestandis illis hæreticis sumat, eosque extirpet funditus.'—Ibid.

338 Galatians i. 17-21.

339 'Nec ei mox defuit in quo sese strenue exerceret.'—Bezæ Vita Calvini.

340 Bezæ Vita Calvini. Herzog, Real Encyclopädie, art. Calvin. Schmidt, G. Roussel, p. 94.

341 'Omnibus purioris religionis studiosis innotuit.'—Bezæ Vita Calv.

342 'Non sine insigni pietatis testimonio.'—Ibid.

343 'Heri videre volui quidnam in Sorbonna ageretur.'—Siderander Bedroto.

344 'Picturas et imagines quæ ibi venduntur.'—Ibid.

345 'Budæum egredientem video.'—Siderander Bedroto.

346 'Quem relicto instituto secutus sum.'—Ibid.

347 'Me rogavit ut musæum suum viderem.'—Ibid.

348 'Quid novi jam pater moliretur.'—Ibid.

349 'Negabat quicquam moliri.'—Ibid.

350 'Quod nos ignoramus.'—Siderander Bedroto.

351 'Nemo est qui possit expiscari omnia ... Omnia tumultum minari videntur.'—Ibid.