II.

The conference of Poissy opened on the 9th of September, 1561. This was the great spectacle of the moment for Christianity. The pope trembled lest he should lose the finest of his provinces, and had sent in haste the cardinal of Ferrara with the general of the Jesuits, to hinder its taking place. The king of Spain, partly from policy, partly from fanaticism, feared the reconciliation of the two religions in France. The (Roman) Catholic and the Protestant states awaited with equal impatience the issue of the debate.

On the appointed day, they met in the refectory of the nuns of Poissy. The king Charles IX., a child of eleven years, seated himself on his throne, having on his right and left the princes and princesses of his family, the chevaliers of the order, and the officers and ladies of the court. On the two lateral sides of the oblong apartment, were the cardinals de Tournon, de Lorraine, de Châtillon, de Bourbon, de Guise, and d’Armagnac; below them a crowd of bishops and doctors. The deputies of the Reformed Churches had not yet been introduced. This [was the] first mark of inequality.

The young king rose, and recited a discourse, in which he exhorted those present to divest themselves of all passion, and to discuss only for the honour of God, the discharge of their own conscience, and the re-establishment of the peace of the kingdom. The Chancellor Michel de l’Hospital, was the next to speak. “You are assembled,” he said, “to proceed to the reformation of manners and doctrine. It is not expedient to wait for a general council, because several princes decline to send representatives, others will have none of it, and it will be composed chiefly of strangers, who are ignorant of our affairs. As to what is said, that we ought not to hold two councils at the same time, this is not the first time that such has been the case. The best way to arrive at an understanding, is to proceed with humility, laying aside subtle and curious disputes. There is no occasion for many books, but to thoroughly understand the Word of God, and to conform to that as closely as possible. Do not esteem them enemies, who are said to be of the new religion, who are Christians, and baptized like yourselves, and do not condemn them through prejudice. Receive them as a father receives his children.”

The prelates were out of temper at this discourse. The idea of a reformation in doctrine, and the advice to take the Word of God for their standard, seemed to be to yield to the demands of the Reformed. The Cardinal de Tournon called for a copy of the chancellor’s speech, in order to deliberate with his colleagues, because it contained, he said, several matters of great consequence, which had not been mentioned in the letters of convocation. The conference was threatened to be broken up before the proceedings had been commenced, but L’Hospital refused, and they went on.

At last Theodore de Bèze was introduced by the Duke de Guise, with ten other pastors (Pierre Martyr had not yet arrived), and twenty-two lay deputies. Their sober and simple costume formed a strange contrast to the insignia of the prelates and of the people of the court. Nevertheless, they presented themselves with confidence; for they knew that they had God above them, and behind them a great part of the nation.

They offered to pass the balustrade, and to seat themselves by the side of the (Roman) Catholic doctors. They were stopped—a fresh mark of inequality. It pleased the priests that the disciples of the Reformation should be detained at the bar, like persons accused. With uncovered heads they bowed respectfully, and Theodore de Bèze, kneeling with the pastors, made a solemn confession of the sins of the people, and implored the benediction of Heaven upon the assembly. He was listened do with emotion and astonishment.

Having thanked the king for the favour which he had accorded to the Reformed, of being enabled to justify themselves before him, Bèze addressed himself to the prelates, and supplicated them, in the name of the great God, who would be Judge of all, to unite with him, not in giving way to sterile discussions, but to discover truth. He would not attack what he knew to be eternal,—the true Church of the Lord. He promised to correct himself, and his brethren, if any error should be found in them. “And would to God,” cried he, “that without going further, instead of opposing arguments, we might all sing a canticle with one voice, and hold out our hands to one another.”

Then Bèze unfolded the leading doctrines of the Reformation; and upon points of discipline, declared, among other things, that the Reformed professed to obey their kings and superiors, with this only reservation, that their first obedience was due to God, the King of kings, and Lord of lords. Having finished his discourse, he again knelt down with his brethren, and presented to Charles IX. the confession of faith of the French churches.

A deep silence had reigned throughout the assembly up to the passage when he said, in speaking of the sacrament of the communion, “If any one asks us if we hold Jesus Christ to be absent from the Holy Supper, we answer, no. But if we look to the distance between places, as we must do, when the question of His corporal presence and his manhood is distinctly considered, we say that His body is as far removed from the bread and the wine, as the high heaven is distant from the earth....”

At these words, deep murmurs broke out in the ranks of the bishops. Some exclaimed: “He has blasphemed!” Others rose, and would have left. The Cardinal de Tournon however, interrupted the speaker, and prayed the king to impose silence upon him, or to permit them to retire. But the king, the queen, the princes, remained quietly in their places, and Bèze was enabled to explain his thoughts, which amounted to this: that on the one hand, the body of Jesus Christ is in heaven, and not elsewhere; that on the other hand, the faithful are made the recipients of His body and of His blood by faith, after a spiritual manner.

He had hardly done speaking, when the Cardinal de Tournon, trembling and stammering with rage, said to the king: “We thought rightly that these new evangelists might utter things unfit for the ear of a most Christian king. But we beseech you to give no heed, and to withhold your judgment until an answer has been made. We hope that you will be brought back....” (but immediately correcting himself), “not brought back, but preserved in the true path.”

It is well to consult the discussion, which arose, more than a century later, upon this singular incident, between Bossuet, Basnage, and Bayle. That the Cardinal de Tournon, the dean of the French cardinals, an old man of seventy-two, should be carried away, may be excused from his great age. But how explain the clamours of the other chiefs of the clergy? Bèze had only reproduced, in measured terms, the doctrine of the Reformed upon the Eucharist. The prelates must have known it; they must also have foreseen that Bèze would maintain it. What, then, was the meaning of this sudden anger? Either it was feigned, or it was insane. Did they only seek a pretext to break up the conference? Admitting, even, that the bishops saw in their adversaries only accused men, still an accused man has, at least, the right to set forth his convictions, and to interrupt him by the cry of blasphemy, was the most flagrant of contradictions.

After the sitting, the prelates held council with their theologians, to determine what they should do. “Would to God,” the Cardinal de Lorraine said to them, “he had been dumb, or we deaf!” Their embarrassment was extreme; but it was necessary to answer, not again by supplications, but by reasons. They agreed to confine themselves to the justification of the two points of the Church and of the Supper; and Claude d’Espence, the most learned of their doctors, was instructed to prepare the materials of the discourse, which the Cardinal de Lorraine was to deliver.

In the meanwhile, the bishops resolved to draw up a confession of faith, which all should sign, and which they should afterwards present for the signature of the pastors. If they should refuse, an anathema was to be instantly fulminated against them, and the discussion to be closed. It was thus that the Roman clergy pretended to confer with their adversaries! It is but right to say that some (Roman) Catholic theologians had the candour to oppose the resolutions of the majority.

The deputies of the churches, informed of this, complained to the king, saying that it was contrary to every law, human and divine, if even the bishops were to be their judges, to condemn them unheard. “We declare,” added they, “that if, in consequence of having heard us, disturbances cannot be allayed, or that greater should, to our regret, arise, we are guiltless of them, because we have sought and followed every means of concord.” The chancellor promised them justice, and compelled the bishops to desist.

On the 16th of September, in the same refectory of Poissy, and before the same assembly, the Cardinal de Lorraine delivered his discourse upon the two articles agreed upon. He declared that the Church could not err, and that if a part should fall into error, they ought to have recourse to the throne of Rome, admitted from ancient times to be the first of Christendom. As to the Holy Supper, he insisted upon the real presence, and deplored that what had been given us as a means of union, should have become a subject of discord. Finally, he addressed a pathetic appeal to the king, beseeching him to remain in the religion his ancestors had handed down to him from the time of Clovis.

Theodore de Bèze asked leave to reply upon the spot; but the prelates had already risen in confusion, and the Cardinal de Tournon said to the king: “If those, who have separated, are willing to subscribe to what has been said by Monsieur de Lorraine, they shall be heard at greater length upon the other points. If not, let all hearing be denied them; let your majesty send them back, and purge your kingdom of them! This is what the assembly of prelates humbly asks of you, in order that in this most Christian kingdom there may be but one faith, one law, and one king.”

The doctors of the Reformation then understood what a wretched mockery was meant by the prelates in this conference of Poissy. No free debate, not even the show of deliberation, not even the patience of a tribunal, which hears the accused to the end, [was to be permitted to them]. An unconditional, absolute adhesion upon the two points of the Church and the Supper, which logically included all the other points, [must be given]; if not, anathema and exile [were to be their lot].

They again made bitter, but useless complaints. To say the truth, from this moment there was no longer a conference; and the cardinal of Ferrara, who arrived at this juncture, confirmed the clergy in their resolutions, by saying that the pope had learned with extreme displeasure of the holding of this kind of national council. Nothing further took place than some private discussions, in the presence of persons carefully selected; and the lay deputies could not even obtain permission to attend.

On the 24th of September, in the little priory-chamber of Poissy, Theodore de Bèze discussed the two contested articles with the Cardinal de Lorraine, the doctor Claude d’Espence, and a certain Claude de Saintes, a little white monk, half-theologian, half-clown, who treated his adversary as an Anabaptist for having said he had received the Holy Ghost.

The Cardinal de Lorraine had prepared a surprise, from which he expected great results—to make the Lutheran doctors dispute against the Calvinists. From the commencement of the conference, he had written to the governor of Metz to send him some theologians of the Confession of Augsburg, learned, and above all, very obstinate, in their opinions. The theologians came; but one of them having died of the plague on arriving at Paris, they were afraid to summon the others immediately to the court.

But the cardinal was unwilling to lose all the fruit of his ingenious contrivance; so drawing from his breast a paper, which he had received from the Counts Palatine, he called upon the ministers to declare, yes or no, if they would sign the three or four principal articles. They asked time to reflect.

On the 26th of September they went before the queen, who had near her the chiefs of the clergy, and said they desired to know if the Cardinal de Lorraine and the other prelates, renouncing the dogma of transubstantiation, would themselves attach their signature to the extract of the Confession of Augsburg. “If it is wished that we should sign something,” continued Theodore de Bèze, “it is reasonable that the Cardinal de Lorraine should also sign what he presents to us in the name of his party.”

The cardinal was excessively nettled at this proposition. “We are not equal, and far from being so,” he said. “For my part, I am not called upon to sign on the word of any master; I subscribe neither to those, who made this confession, nor to you.” “Since you will not,” answered Bèze, “sign yourselves, it is not just to call upon us to do so.” Bossuet pretends that Theodore de Bèze only escaped by a subtlety. It may be so; but his antagonist had set him the example.

Jacques Lainez, the general of the Jesuits, who had just arrived with the legate, assisted at this conference. He delivered so ridiculous and insolent a discourse in Italian, that it astonished even the most impetuous (Roman) Catholics. After comparing the heretics to foxes and wolves, he said they ought not to discuss with them, but to send them before the Council of Trent, and that it did not belong to laymen or to women to judge of these matters. This last arrow hit Catherine de Medicis, who showed how deeply it offended her.

Passing to the question of the Supper, the general of the Jesuits wished to explain it by saying that Jesus Christ is present in the Sacrament, as a king who played his own part in the feasts celebrated to his honour. He dwelt at length upon this comparison, heaving deep sighs, and at the end of his discourse he wept. Bèze scornfully replied that “he had made a farce of the Supper, in which Jesus Christ was the harlequin, a remark foolish and unworthy to be spoken, or heard.” Then quitting the Jesuit, he entered upon a more serious debate with Claude d’Espence.

Such was the first appearance of the Jesuits in France: but it scarcely indicated the important part they were to play in after-times. It was the prelates, assembled at Poissy, who authorized them to establish themselves in France; so that, according to the judicious remark of an historian, the assembly from which an equitable arrangement was expected between the religions, only served to introduce those into the kingdom, who stopped at nothing to prevent it.

The conference was reduced to still narrower limits. The queen-mother charged certain theologians on either side to draw up a common formulary upon the doctrine of the Supper. The five (Roman) Catholic delegates, who had been chosen from amongst the more moderate, succeeded in agreeing with the Reformed by the assistance of those vague expressions, which every one can interpret as he pleases. The news having spread at court, many rejoiced, and Catherine de Medicis sent for Theodore de Bèze to express to him her satisfaction. The Cardinal de Lorraine, after reading the formula, seemed contented. But the assembly of the clergy and the doctors of the Sorbonne protested that this document was insufficient, captious, erroneous, and heretical; and, to put it aside, they presented to the queen a confession drawn up in the most strictly (Roman) Catholic sense, demanding that the ministers, if they refused to sign it, should be pronounced obstinate, separated from the Church, and driven out of the most Christian kingdom.

After this there was nothing more to be discussed, and the conference terminated on the 9th of October. One thing alone was made clear:—that the hope of bringing the two communions together by mutual concessions was illusory, and that nothing remained but either to let one exterminate the other, or to allow them to live side by side. This last idea, so little understood at that time, began to dawn upon a few superior intellects, and especially in that of the Chancellor l’Hospital, as we shall presently see.