A new epoch, a new phase, was beginning for Calvin: he was leaving school, he was about to enter upon life, and a pause was necessary. The future reformer, before rushing into the storms of an agitated career, was to be tempered anew in the fire of the divine Word and of prayer. Great struggles awaited him: the Church was waking up from the slumber of death, throwing back the winding-sheet of popery, and rising from the sepulchre. One universal cry was heard among all the nations of the West. At Worms, a monk had demanded the Holy Scriptures of God in presence of the imperial diet; a priest had demanded them at Zurich; students had demanded them at Cambridge; at Spire, an assembly of princes had declared that they would hear nothing but the preaching of that heavenly Word; and its life-bearing doctrines had been solemnly confessed at Augsburg in the presence of Charles V. Germany, Switzerland, England, the Low Countries, Italy—all Europe, in a word, was stirred at the sight of that new faith which had come forth from the tomb of ages.... France herself was moved. How could a young man so modest, so timid, who feared so much all contact with the passions of men—how could Calvin battle for the faith, if he did not receive in the retirement of the wilderness the baptism of the Spirit and of fire? And this baptism he received. Alone and forced to hide himself, he experienced an inward peace and joy he had never known before. 'By the exercise of the cross,' he said, 'the Son of God receives us _into his order_, and makes us partakers of his glory.' Accordingly he gave a very extraordinary name to the obscure town of Angoulême: he called it _Doxopolis_, the city of glory, and thus he dated his letters. How pleasant and glorious this retirement proved to him! He had found his Wartburg, his _Patmos_, and unable any longer to hide from his friends the happiness he enjoyed, he wrote to Francis Daniel of Orleans: 'Why cannot I have a moment's talk with you?' he said, 'not indeed to trouble you with my disputes and struggles; why should I do so? I think that what interests you more just now is to know that I am well, and that, if you take into account my known _indolence_, I am making progress in my studies.'[20] Then after speaking of Du Tillet's kindness, of his own responsibility, and of the use he ought to make of his leisure ... the joy which filled his heart ran over, and he exclaimed with thankfulness: 'Oh! how happy I should think myself, if the peace which I now enjoy should continue during the time of my retirement and exile.[21] The Lord, whose providence foresees everything, will provide. Experience has taught me that we cannot see much beforehand what will happen to us. At the very moment when I promised myself repose, the storm burst suddenly upon me. And then, when I thought some horrible den would be my lot, a quiet _nest_ was unexpectedly prepared for me.[22]... It is the hand of God that hath done this.