After the termination of the trial of Servetus in 1553, and of the contest with the Libertines in 1555, Calvin obtained, not repose, but victory and unopposed supremacy. He had need of it, for his health, which was naturally weak, had become exceedingly infirm. He had frequent attacks of quartan fever, violent headaches, disease of the liver, attacks of gout, and he was threatened with consumption. There was no longer any one in his home to watch over him with that tender assiduity which is almost as necessary for the health of the soul as for that of the body. He had lost his wife, Idelette de Bure, on the 6th of April, 1549. She had borne him three children, but they all died young, and in their conjugal solitude she had shown that entire and unselfish devotion which gives everything, and asks for nothing in return. She had three children by her first husband, Störder; when she was very ill, one of her friends urged her to speak to Calvin about them: 'Why should I?' said she; 'that which concerns me is to have them virtuously brought up: if they are virtuous, he will be a father to them; if they are not, of what use is it for me to commend them to his care?' {334} But Calvin anticipated her maternal solicitude, and without waiting until she spoke, he promised to treat them as if they were his own children: 'I have already commended them to God,' she said. 'That does not prevent me from also taking care of them,' said Calvin. She answered: 'I know well that you will never forsake those whom I have confided to the Lord.' She died as she had lived, showing pious and tender confidence in God and her husband. In the letters written during his lifetime to his two most intimate friends, Farel and Viret, Calvin often spoke of her, briefly but affectionately, and with entire satisfaction. When she died he spoke of his grief more openly than he had ever done of his happiness. He wrote to Viret: 'I have lost the excellent companion of my life, who would never have forsaken me, either in exile, poverty, or death. So long as she lived she was my faithful assistant; she took no thought for herself, and was never either a trouble or a hindrance to her husband. I control my sorrow as far as it is in my power; my friends also do their duty; but it is of very little use either for them or me. You know the tenderness--not to say the weakness--of my heart. I should give way utterly if God had not stretched out his hand to hold me up. It is he who heals the broken-hearted, who consoles the wounded spirit, who strengthens the trembling knees.' [Footnote 127] [Footnote 127: Henry, i. 416-423; _Bulletin de la Société de L'Histoire du Protestantisme Français_, iv. 644-649.] {335}