n's death, was devoted
ardently to his literary work. The history grew apace, and other books
besides. In the seditions of the Libertine party against the austerities
of the new regime the old man took the side of law and order and good
morals (in his book on _L'ancienne et nouvelle Police de Geneve_) with
an ardor that was the more surprising as one remembered his antecedents.
In the midst of his toils he found time to get married to a third wife
and to go to law with his neighbors. He is continually coming to the
council, sometimes for a little loan to help him with his lawsuits,
sometimes for relief in his embarrassments. It is touching to see how
tender they are toward the poor foolish old man. They make him little
grants from time to time, always looking to it that their money shall be
applied to the object designated, and not "on his fantasies." They take
up one of his notes for him, looking to see that it has not been
tampered with, because "he is easily circumvented and not adroit in his
business." He complains of the heat during an illness one summer, and
the seigneurie give him the White Chamber in the town-hall, and when
winter comes on, and he is old and infirm, they assign him the lodging
lately occupied by Mathurin Cordier (famous schoolmaster Corderius,
whose _Dialogues_ were the first book in Latin of our grandfathers),
because it contained a stove--a rare luxury. He thanks them for their
kindness as his fathers, and makes them heirs of his library and
manuscripts.

There was another and more solemn assemblage, his relations with which
were less tender. This was the consistory of the Church, which found it
less easy to allow for the old man's infirmities. His first appearance
before this body was under accusation of playing at dice with Clement
Marot, another famous character and the sweet singer of the French
Reformation. He comes next time of his own accord, asking the venerable
brethren to interfere because his second wife ran away from him on their
wedding-day, she defending herself on the ground of a bad cold. His
domestic troubles bring him thither so often as to put the clergy out of
patience. He is called up for beating his wife, but shows that the
discipline was needed, and she is admonished to be more obedient in
future. Later on he is questioned why he does not come to church. He
can't walk, is the answer. But he is told that if he can get himself
carried to the hotel de ville to see the new c