At the Humanist Courts of Alexander VI. and Julius II. he studied Greek and Hebrew, and became an accomplished theologian besides. In 1504, much against his will, he had been consecrated Bishop of the small diocese of Chieti (Theate), lying in the wild Abruzzi district, almost due east of Rome, on the slopes from the highest spurs of the Apennines to the Adriatic. He found his people demoralised by constant feuds, and the priests worse than their parishioners. Caraffa, determined to reduce his unruly diocese to order, began with persuasion; and finding this of small avail, flogged people and clergy into something like decency by repeated spiritual censures and rigidly enforced excommunications. His methods revealed the man. His talents were of too high an order and his family influence too great to permit him to linger in his uncivilised diocese. He was sent as Nuncio to England and thence to Spain. His visit to the latter country made an indelible impression on his strong nature.

His earnest pet.i.tions for the independence of his native Naples were contemptuously refused by the young King Charles, and the fierce Neapolitan pursued the Emperor with an undying hatred. But what was more important, his stay in Spain imbued him with the ideas of the Spanish Reformation. He was too much an Italian and too strong a believer in the papal supremacy to adopt the thought of secular interference in the affairs of the Church, but with that exception the Spanish method of renovating the Church took possession of him heart and soul. The germs of fanaticism, hitherto sleeping within him, were awakened to life, and never afterwards slumbered. He sympathised with the projects of Adrian VI., and was a power during his brief pontificate. During the reign of Clement VII. he took little part in public affairs, but all the attempts to put new life into the monastic orders were a.s.sisted by him. He viewed with some suspicion the attempt to conciliate the Germans; and the results of Contarini's dealing with the Protestants at Regensburg filled him with alarm.

Contarini's attempt to reunite the Church by reconciliation was twenty years too late. It is doubtful whether anyone in Germany save the Emperor had much faith in the uniting influences of a conference.

Morone, who had for years represented the Vatican at the Court of Ferdinand of Austria, and who was perpetually urging the Pope to summon a General Council, was afraid ever since Hagenau that conferences benefited the Protestants more than the Romanists. Contarini himself had said that what was needed to overcome the German movement was neither conferences nor discussions about doctrine, but a Reformation in morals.

The Curia regarded his mission as a dangerous experiment. They tied his hands as firmly as they could by his letter of instructions: He was to inform the Emperor that no Legate, not even the Pope himself until he had consulted the other nations, could modify the doctrines of the Church for the sake of the Germans; he was to do his utmost to prevent the a.s.sembly of a National Council for Germany. He heard from Paris that the French Romanists believed that he was about to betray the Church to the heretics. No one encouraged him except his own circle of immediate friends. The men with whom he was to work, Cardinal de Granvelle and Dr.

Eck, were suspicious of him and of his antecedents. Nevertheless his natural and confirmed optimism urged him to the task.

The situation, looked at broadly and from the point of view taken by a contemporary who had made himself acquainted with the theology and const.i.tution of the mediaeval Church, was not so hopeless as it must seem to us with the history of what followed to enlighten us. The great ma.s.s of mediaeval doctrines lay uncodified. They were not codified until the Council of Trent. The extreme claims made by the supporters of a papal absolutism--claims which may be briefly expressed by the sentence: The Church Universal is condensed in the Roman Church, and the Roman Church is represented by the Pope--which had been used to crush the Lutheran movement in its earliest stages, were of recent origin. Curialism could be represented to be almost as much opposed to the mediaeval theory of the Church as anything that Luther had brought forward. There was a real _via media_, if it could only be discovered and defined. The commonplace opinions of men who were sincerely attached to the mediaeval conception of the Church, with its claims to catholicity, with its doctrines, usages, ceremonies and hierarchy, could scarcely be better represented than in the declaration said to have been made by Charles V. to his sister Maria, his governor in the Netherlands:

"It happened that on the Vigil of St. John the Baptist the Emperor held a banquet in the garden. Now, when Queen Maria asked him what he thought of doing with the people and with the Confession (the Augsburg) that had been presented, he made reply: 'Dear Sister, when I was made chief of the Holy Roman Empire, the great complaint reached me that the people who profess this doctrine were more wicked than the devil. But the Bishop of Seville gave me the advice that I should not think of acting tyrannically, but should ascertain whether the doctrine is at variance with the articles of the Christian faith (the Apostles' Creed). This advice pleased me, and so I find that the people are not so devilish as had been represented; nor is the subject of dispute the Twelve Articles, but a matter lying outside them, which I have therefore handed over to the scholars. If their doctrine had been in conflict with the Twelve Articles I should have been disposed to apply the edge of the sword.'"[660]

The Twelve Articles, as the Apostles' Creed was called, always occupied a peculiar position in the Western Church. They were believed to contain the _whole_ of the _theologia revelata_. The great Schoolmen of the most opposite parties (Thomas Aquinas and John Duns Scotus alike) were accustomed to deduce from the Apostles' Creed fourteen propositions, seven on G.o.d and seven on the Incarnation, and to declare that they contained the sum of revealed theology; everything else was natural theology on which men might differ without being considered to have abandoned the essentials of the Christian faith. Charles V. had been taught at first, probably by Aleander's insistent reiterations, that Luther had denied some portion of this revealed theology; he had come to learn that he had been wrongly informed; therefore conference and adjustment were possible.

Men like Charles V. and Contarini could honestly believe that so far as doctrine was concerned a compromise might be effected.

-- 4. _The Conference at Regensburg._

The Diet was opened at Regensburg in February 1541. The Emperor explained his position and intentions. He declared that the most important duty before them was to try to heal the division in religion which was separating Germany into two opposing parties. The one duty of the hour was to endeavour to come to a unanimous decision on religious matters, and to bring about this he proposed to name some peace-loving men who could confer together upon the points in debate. Count Frederick of the Palatinate, brother of the Elector, and Cardinal de Granvelle were nominated presidents: three p.r.o.nounced Protestants, two p.r.o.nounced Romanists, and one whose opinions were doubtful, were the a.s.sessors; Eck, Gropper, and Pflug were to support the Romanist side, Melanchthon, Bucer, and Pistorius were the speakers for the Protestants. Perhaps the only name that could be objected to was that of Eck; it was impossible to think of him as a man of peace. The Legate Contarini guided everything.

During preliminary conferences an understanding was come to on some practical questions which served to preserve an appearance of unanimity.

It was thought that marriage might be permitted to the clergy and the cup to the laity within Germany; that the Pope might be honoured as the Primate of the Church, provided it was clearly understood that his position did not give him the power of perpetual interference in the affairs of the national Churches; that the hierarchy might be maintained if the episcopal jurisdiction were exercised conjointly by a vicar appointed by the Bishop and a learned layman appointed by the secular authority.

It was the business of the conference to discuss the deeper theological differences which were supposed to separate the two parties. So in the opening meetings the delegates began to consider those questions which gathered round the thought of Justification.

It was agreed that there was no distinction between the ordinances of grace and those of nature in the original condition of man. This declaration involved the denial of the distinction between the _dona supernaturalia_ and the _dona naturalia_ made so much of in Scholastic Theology, and the basis of a great deal of its Pelagian tendencies. It was expressly conceded by the Romanist theologians that man had lost his original freedom of will by the Fall--a concession directly at variance with the future declaration of the Council of Trent.[661] The statement agreed upon about the origin of sin was given almost in the words of the Augsburg Confession, and agrees with them. The doctrine of the tenacity of original sin scarcely differs from a statement of Luther's which had been condemned in the Bull _Exurge Domine_ of Pope Leo X.[662] In the discussions and conclusions about this first head of doctrine the conclusions of Protestant theology had been amply vindicated.

There was more difficulty on the matter of Justification. Two definitions suggested by the Romanist theologians and by Melanchthon were successively rejected, and one brought forward, it is said by Contarini himself, was accepted after some discussion. It was couched in language which the Lutheran theologians had not been accustomed to use.

It embodied phrases which Pole, Contarini, and other liberal Italian Roman Catholics had made their own. The Protestants of Germany, however, saw nothing in it to contradict their cherished ideas upon Justification, and they gladly accepted the definition. The statement, repeated more than once, that grace is the free gift of G.o.d and is not merited by our works, expressed their deepest thought, and completely excluded the meritorious character of ecclesiastical good works. They seemed rather pleased than otherwise that their thoughts could be expressed in language suggested by Romanist theologians.[663] It appears that Eck, while consenting to the definition, wished to avoid signing it, but was compelled by Granvelle to fix his name to the doc.u.ment.[664]

The fact that the Romanist and Protestant members of the conference could agree upon an article on Justification caused great rejoicings among Contarini's friends in Italy. Cardinal Pole was convinced that every obstacle in the way of reunion had been removed, and the most extravagant expectations were cherished.[665] The Protestant members of the conference were entirely satisfied with the results so far as they had gone.

The conference then turned to questions affecting the organisation and worship of the Church.

Somewhat to their surprise, the Protestants found that their opponents were willing to accept their general theory of what was meant by the Church and what were its distinguishing characteristics. The Christian Society was defined without any reference to the Pope as its permanent Head on earth. This provoked strong dissents from Rome when the definition was known there. Differences emerged when the power of the Church was discussed, and as there was no prospect of agreement it was resolved for the meanwhile to omit the article.[666]

The question of the Sacrament of the Holy Supper evoked differences which were felt to be almost insuperable. It was inevitable. For here the one fundamental divergence between the new Evangelical faith and mediaeval religion came to practical expression. Nothing could reconcile the Evangelical thought of a spiritual priesthood of all believers with the belief in a mediating priesthood who could give and could withhold G.o.d. Doctrines might be stated in terms which hid this fundamental difference; a definition of Justification by Faith alone might be conceded to the Protestants; but any thought of a priestly miracle in the Sacrament of the Holy Supper had to be repudiated by the one party and clung to by the other.

At first things went smoothly enough; it was conceded that special ways of dispensing the Sacraments were matters indifferent, but whenever the question of Transubstantiation emerged, things came to a deadlock. It was perhaps characteristic of Contarini's somewhat surface way of dealing with the whole question at stake between the two parties, that he never probed the deeper question. He rested his plea for Transubstantiation on the ground that an important article of faith which had been a.s.sented to for so long must not be questioned.[667] The Protestants held a private conference, at which all the theologians present were asked to give their opinions in turn. There Calvin spoke, dwelling on the thought that Transubstantiation implied adoration, which could never be conceded. His firmness produced unanimity. Melanchthon drafted their common opinion, which was given in writing to Granvelle, who refused in strong language to accept it, and the conference came to an end. The more difficult practical subjects of the sacrificial character of the Ma.s.s and of private Ma.s.ses were not discussed.[668]

This conference at Regensburg may almost be said to be the parting of the ways. Up to 1525 the movement under Luther had the appearance of a Reformation of the whole Church in Germany. From 1525 to the date of this conference there was always the expectation that the Lutherans who had formed territorial Churches might yet be included in a general Reformation of the whole German Church. Joachim II. of Brandenburg cherished the idea long after 1541; and Charles v. still believed that what could not be effected by mutual compromise might be done by a mediating creed imposed upon all by the authority of the Emperor. But compromise failed at Ratisbon, and there was no further hope of its succeeding.

The decisive character of the Regensburg conference was seen in Italy almost at once. Its failure involved the destruction of the party of Italian Romanists who hoped to end the religious strife by a compromise.

When Contarini returned to Italy he found that his influence was gone.

He was rewarded with the Government of Bologna, which removed him from the centre of things. He died soon after (Aug. 24th, 1542), leaving none behind him to fill his place. Ghiberti survived him only sixteen months.

Caraffa had become more and more alienated from his early friends.

Sadoleto, Pole, and Morone remained, all of them men of intellect, but lacking the qualities which fit men to be leaders in trying times. Pole lived to make atonement for his liberalism by hounding on the persecutions in England, and Morone by becoming the champion of ultramontanism at the close of the Council of Trent. The conception of a Catholic Reformation disappeared; the idea of a Counter-Reformation took its place.

CHAPTER IV.

IGNATIUS LOYOLA AND THE COMPANY OF JESUS.[669]

-- 1. _At Manresa._

The little mountainous province of Guipuzcoa, lying at the corner of the Bay of Biscay, bordering on France, was the district of Spain which produced one of the greatest of her sons, Inigo de Recalde de Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus. The tower which was the family seat still stands, rough and windowless as a Scottish border keep, adorned with one ornament only, a stone above the doorway, on which are carved the arms of the family--two wolves in quest of prey. Guipuzcoa had never been conquered by the Moors, and its n.o.bles, poor in their barren highlands, boasted that the bluest Gothic blood ran in their veins. The Recaldes belonged to the very oldest n.o.bility of the district, and possessed the highly valued privilege of the right of personal summons to the coronation of the Kings of Leon. Their younger sons were welcomed at Court as pages, and then as soldiers; and the young Inigo was a page at the Court of Ferdinand. He was well educated for a Spanish n.o.ble; could read and write; composed ballads; and could illuminate ma.n.u.scripts with miniatures. Most of his spare time was employed in reading those romances of chivalry then very popular. When older he became a soldier like his elder brothers.

In 1521, when twenty-eight years of age (b. 1493), he was the youngest officer in command of the garrison of Pampeluna, ordered to withstand a combined force of invading French troops and some revolting Spaniards.

The enemy appeared before the place in such overwhelming numbers that all but the youngest officer wished to surrender without a struggle.

Inigo's eloquence persuaded the garrison to attempt a desperate defence.

No priest was among the soldiers; the Spaniards, according to their custom, confessed each other, and were ready to die at their posts. A bullet struck the young officer as he stood in the breach encouraging his men. His fall gave the victory to the besiegers.

The conspicuous bravery of Inigo had won the respect of his enemies.

They extricated him from the heap of dead under which he was buried, and conveyed him to the old family castle. There his shattered leg was so badly set as to unfit him for a soldier's career. He had it twice broken and twice reset. The prolonged torture was useless; he had to believe that he would never fight on horseback again. The dream of taking a man's part in the conquests which all Spaniards of that age believed lay before their country, had to be abandoned. His body was a useless log.

But Inigo was a n.o.ble of the Basque provinces, and possessed, in a superlative degree it was to be discovered, the characteristics of his race--at once taciturn and enthusiastic, wildly imaginative, and sternly practical. He has himself recorded that, as soon as he was convinced that he could never become a distinguished soldier, he asked himself whether he might not become a famous saint like Dominic or Francis, and that the question arose from no spiritual promptings, but simply from the determination to win fame before his death. As he lay bedridden, thinking much and dreaming more, it suddenly occurred to him that no one could become a saint unless he lived very near G.o.d, and that his life had not been of such a kind. He at once resolved that he would change; he would feed on herbs like a holy hermit; he would go to Jerusalem as a devout pilgrim. This vow, he tells us, was the earliest conscious movement of his soul towards G.o.d. His reward came soon in the shape of his first revelation. The blessed Virgin, with the Child Jesus in her arms, appeared to him in a dream. He awoke, hustled out of bed, dragged himself to the small window of his turret-room, and looked out. The earth was dark, an obscure mingling of black shadows; the heavens were a great vault of deepest blue strewn with innumerable stars. The sight was a parable and an inspiration. "How dull earth is," he cried, "how glorious heaven!" He felt that he must _do_ something to get nearer G.o.d.

He must be alone in some holy place to think things out with his own soul. His brother's servants hoisted the maimed body of the once brilliant soldier on an a.s.s, one foot in a boot, the wounded leg still swathed in bandages and its foot in a large soft slipper, and Inigo left the old castle determined to live a hermit's life on Montserrat, the holy hill of Aragon.

There in the church of Our Lady of Montserrat he resolved to dedicate himself to her service with all the ceremonies prescribed in that masterbook of mediaeval chivalry, Amadis of Gaul. He hung his arms on her altar, and throughout the long night, standing or kneeling, he kept his watch, consecrating his knightly service to the Blessed Virgin. At daybreak he donned an anchorite's dress, gave his knightly robes to the first beggar he met, and, mounted on his a.s.s, betook himself to the Dominican convent of Manresa, no longer Inigo Recalde de Loyola, but simply Ignatius.

At Manresa he practised the strictest asceticism, hoping to become in heart and soul fitted for the saint life he wished to live. Then began a time of unexpected, sore and prolonged spiritual conflict, not unlike what Luther experienced in the Erfurt convent. Who was he and what had been his past life that he should presumptuously think that G.o.d would ever accept him and number him among His saints? He made unwearied use of all the mediaeval means of grace; he exhausted the resources of the confessional; he consulted one spiritual guide after another without experiencing any relief to the doubts which were gnawing at his soul.

The whole machinery of the Church helped him as little as it had Luther: it could not give peace of conscience. He has placed on record that the only real help he received during this prolonged period of mental agony came from an old woman. Confession, instead of soothing him, rather plunged him into a sea of intolerable doubt. To make his penitence thorough, to know himself as he really was, he wrote out his confession that he might see his sins staring at him from the written page. He fasted till his life was in danger; he prayed seven times and scourged himself thrice daily, but found no peace. He tells us that he often shrieked aloud to G.o.d, crying that He must Himself help him, for no creature could bring him comfort. No task would be too great for him, he exclaimed, if he could only see G.o.d. "Show me, O Lord, where I can find Thee; I will follow like a dog, if I can only learn the way of salvation." His anguish prompted him to suicide. More than once, he says, he opened his window with the intention of casting himself down headlong and ending his life then and there; but the fear of his sins and their consequences restrained him. He had read of a saint who had vowed to fast until he had been vouchsafed the Beatific Vision, so he communicated at the altar and fasted for a whole week; but all ended in vanity and vexation of spirit.

Then, with the sudden certainty of a revelation, he resolved to throw himself on the mercy of G.o.d, whose long-suffering pity would pardon his sins. This was the crisis. Peace came at last, and his new spiritual life began. He thought no longer about his past; he no longer mentioned former sins in his confessions; the certainty of pardon had begun a new life within him; he could start afresh. It is impossible to read his statements without being struck with the similarity between the spiritual experience of Ignatius and what Luther calls Justification by Faith; the words used by the two great religious leaders were different, but the experience of pardon won by throwing one's self upon the mercy of G.o.d was the same.

This new spiritual life was, as in Luther's case, one of overflowing gladness. Meditation and introspection, once a source of anguish, became the spring of overpowering joy. Ignatius felt that he was making progress. "G.o.d," he says, "dealt with me as a teacher with a scholar; I cannot doubt that He had always been with me." Many historical critics from Ranke downwards have been struck with the likeness of the experience gone through by Luther and Ignatius. One great contrast manifested itself at once. The humble-minded and quiet German, when the new life awoke in him, set himself unostentatiously to do the common tasks which daily life brought; the fiery and ambitious Spaniard at once tried to conquer all mysteries, to take them by a.s.sault as if they were a beleaguered fortress.

He had his visions as before, but they were no longer temptations of Satan, the source of doubt and torture. He believed that he could actually see with bodily eyes divine mysteries which the intelligence could not comprehend. After lengthened prayer, every faculty concentrated in one prolonged gaze, he felt a.s.sured that he could _see_ the mystery of Transubstantiation actually taking place. At the supreme moment he saw Christ in the form of a white ray pa.s.s into the consecrated bread and transform it into the Divine Victim (Host). He declared that in moods of exaltation the most impenetrable mysteries of theology, the Incarnation of our Lord, the Holy Trinity, the personality of Satan, were translated into visible symbols which made them plainly understood. These visions so fascinated him, that he began to write them down in simple fashion for his own satisfaction and edification.

In all this the student of the religious life of Spain during the sixteenth century will recognise the mystical devotion which was then characteristic of the people of the Peninsula. The Spanish character, whether we study it in the romances of chivalry which the land produced, or in the writing of her religious guides, was impregnated by enthusiasm. It was pa.s.sionate, exalted, entirely penetrated and possessed by the emotion which for the time dominated it. In no country were the national and religious sentiment so thoroughly fused and united. The long wars with the Moors, and their successful issue in the conquest of Grenada, had made religion and patriotism one and the same thing. Priests invariably accompanied troops on the march, and went into battle with them. St. James of Compostella was believed to traverse the country to bring continual succour to the soldiers who charged the Moors invoking his name. A victory was celebrated by a solemn procession in honour of G.o.d and of the Virgin, who had delivered the enemy into the hands of the faithful. This intensity of the Spanish character, this temperament distinguished by force rather than moderation, easily gave birth to superst.i.tion and burning devotion, and both furnished a fruitful soil for the extravagances of Mysticism, which affected every cla.s.s in society. Statesmen like Ximenes, no less than the common people, were influenced by the exhortations or predictions of the _Beatae_,--women who had devoted themselves to a religious life without formally entering into a convent,--and changed their policy in consequence. It was universally believed that such devotees, men and women, could be illuminated divinely, and could attain to a state of familiar intercourse with G.o.d, if not to an actual union with Him, by giving themselves to prayer, by abstinence from all worldly thoughts and actions, and by practising the most rigid asceticism. It was held that those who had attained to this state of mystical union received in dreams, trances, and ecstasies, visions of the divine mysteries.

The heads of the Spanish Inquisition viewed this Mysticism, so characteristic of the Peninsula, with grave anxiety. The thought that ardent believers could by any personal process attain direct intercourse, even union with G.o.d, apart from the ordinary machinery of the Church, cut at the roots of the mediaeval penitential system, which always presupposed that a priestly mediation was required. If G.o.d can be met in the silence of the believer's soul, where is the need for the priest, who, according to mediaeval ideas, must always stand between the penitent and G.o.d, and by his action take the hand of faith and lay it in the hand of the divine omnipotence? Other dangers appeared. The Mystic professed to draw his knowledge of divine things directly from the same source as the Church, and his revelations had the same authority. It is true that most of the Spanish Mystics, like St. Teresa, had humility enough to place themselves under ecclesiastical direction, but this was not the case with all. Some prophets and prophetesses declared themselves to be independent, and these _illuminati_, as they were called, spread disaffection and heresy. Hence the att.i.tude of the Inquisition towards Mystics of all kinds was one of suspicious watchfulness. St. Teresa, St. Juan de la Cruz, Ignatius himself, were all objects of distrust, and did not win ecclesiastical approbation until after long series of tribulations.

It is necessary to insist on the fact that Ignatius had a deeply rooted connection with the Spanish Mystics. His visions, his methods, the _Spiritual Exercises_ themselves, cannot be understood apart from their intimate relations to that Mysticism which was characteristic of the religion of his land and of his age.

Ignatius was no ordinary Mystic, however. What seemed the whole or the end to Teresa or Osuna was to him only a part, or the means to something better. While he received and rejoiced in the visions vouchsafed to him, he practised the keenest introspection. He observed and a.n.a.lysed the moods and states of mind in which the visions came most readily or the reverse, and made a note of them all. He noted the postures and gestures of the body which helped or hindered the reception of visions or profitable meditation on what had been revealed. He saw that he could reproduce or at least facilitate the return of his visions by training and mastering his mind and body, and by subjecting them to a spiritual drill which might be compared with the exercises used to train a soldier in the art of war. Out of these visions, introspections, comparisons, experiments experienced in solitude at Manresa, came by long process of gradual growth and elaboration the famous _Spiritual Exercises_, which may be called the soul of the Counter-Reformation, as Luther's book on _The Liberty of the Christian Man_ contains the essence of Protestantism.

Ignatius spent nearly a year at Manresa. He had accomplished his object--to find himself at peace with G.o.d. It remained to fulfil his vow of pilgrimage. He laid aside his hermit's garb, and with it his ascetic practices; but he believed it to be his duty to renounce all property and live absolutely poor. He left all the money he possessed upon a bench and walked to Barcelona, supporting himself by begging. There he was given a pa.s.sage to Venice, and thence he sailed for the Holy Land.

His enthusiasm, and above all his project for beginning a mission among the Turks, alarmed the chief of the Franciscans in Jerusalem, who insisted on shipping him back to Italy. He reached Barcelona determined to pursue such studies as would enable him to know theology. He had never learned Latin, the gateway to all theological learning, and the man of thirty entered school, and seated himself on the bench with boys.

Thence he went to Alcala and to Salamanca, and attended cla.s.ses in these towns. Before he had quitted Manresa he had begun to speak to others about his visions, and to persuade them to submit themselves to the spiritual drill of his _Exercises_. Some ladies in Barcelona had become his devoted disciples. At Alcala and Salamanca he had tried to make converts to his system. The ecclesiastical authorities of the districts, fearing that this was a new kind of dangerous Mysticism, seized him, and he was twice incarcerated in the episcopal Inquisition. It would probably have fared ill with him had it not been for the intercession of some of the distinguished ladies who had been his disciples. His imprisonment in both cases was short, but he was forbidden to discriminate between mortal and venial sins (a thing essential if he acted as a spiritual director) until he had studied theology for four years.

-- 2. _Ignatius at Paris._

With prompt military obedience Ignatius decided to study at Paris. He reached the city in the beginning of 1528, driving an a.s.s laden with his books and clothes. He went naturally to the College Montaigu, which under its Princ.i.p.al, Noel Beda, was the most orthodox in Paris; but with his well known determination to see and judge everything for himself, he soon afterwards obtained leave to reside in the College Ste. Barbe, one of the most liberal, in which George Buchanan was then a Regent.[670]