A17684:11
A little book of John Calvins concerning offences whereby at this day divers are…A little booke of Iohn Caluines concernynge offences whereby at this daye diuers are…
A little book of John Calvins concerning offences whereby at this day divers are feared, and many also quite withdrawn from the pure doctrine of the Gospel, a work very needful and profitable. Translated out of Latin into English by Arthur Golding.A little booke of Iohn Caluines concernynge offences whereby at this daye diuers are feared, and many also quight withdrawen from the pure doctrine of the Gospell, a woorke very needefull and profitable. Translated out of Latine into Englishe by Arthur Goldinge.
London: printed by H. Wykes, 1567
No title page in the transcription: set from the catalogue record.
Modern spelling is a reading aid: the words are the author’s, only the spelling is modernized. Original shows the page as printed, with the transcription marks.
But you putting your affiance in the invincible power of Gods spirit, gave ensample to all others, that there is no let so deep & difficult, which by the same aid may not be waded out of. And therewithal you have tried, with what armour the Lord is wont to furnish his servants, as often as he calleth them to the encounter. I remember when I first told you your Father was dead, and that I alleged the example of Abraham, whom the men of his age might call the murderer of his Father, in that Thare following him when he went from home, miscarried by the way: you made ⟨image 7⟩me answer by and by, that forasmuch as God did both bear witness to your doing, and also allowed it, you passed nothing for the slanders of the wicked: and that nothing grieved you, but that your Father bearing you company in your journey had not made you like unto Abraham. For you were neither so nice nor so proud, that you would either refuse to be Abraham's companion, or that you would shun that slander, which God setteth out with great commendation. Howbeit your wife did of her self wonderfully assuage and mitigate the sorrow of her death, before she departed from us. For there could no apter medicine have been wished, than those heroical words of hers, which she uttered upon her death bed: when taking me by the hand she thanked God, who had brought her on his hand in to such a place, where she might die with a quiet conscience: when, bewailing in her heart the state of her former life, she cried out that she was double happy, in that being lately drawn out of the cursed jail of Babylon, she should now also depart out of the ⟨image 7⟩miserable prison of the body: when out of the lively sense of her conscience, disputing of her own sins, of the gilt of eternal death, and of the dreadful judgement of God, not womanlike, she extolled highly the grace of Christ, & with like humbleness and affiance embraced it as a holly Anchor. I do so well remember her, how she uttered these words, not only plainly and distinctly, but also with an unaccustomed earnestness even at her last drawing on, that me thinks I see her yet still. Therefore when I saw you on the contrary part, nobly striving to subdue the heaviness of your heart, I marvelled the less that a man should be stout in sorrow, being helped with so many and so goodly remedies.
But you puttyng your affiance in the inuincible power of Gods spirite, gaue ensample to all others, that there is no let so déepe & difficulte, which by the same ayde may not be waded out of. And therewithal you haue tried, with what armour the Lorde is wonte to furnishe his seruantes, as often as he calleth them to the encounter. I remember whē I first tolde you your Father was dead, and that I alledged the example of Abraham, whome the men of his age mighte call the murtherer of his Father, in that Thare followinge him when he went frō home, miscaried by the waye: you made