While Babinot and Véron were traversing the south, John Vernou held firm at Poitiers, and aroused the students. The Reformation is fond of learning: it looks upon science as the friend of religion. Faith, it says, does not require of Christians to know only what is learnt by faith, or not to know scientifically what they ought to learn. It desires that we should know, and know well. But on the other hand, it believes that true science cannot require of the adept to despise the truths that faith reveals. It is essential to the progress of humanity that there should always be a good understanding between faith and science. And accordingly the Reformation calls upon them to be united. Unhappily, disagreement is possible and even easy. The philosopher and the christian fall with great facility into a lamentable onesidedness, which makes the former despise religion, and the latter science. In order that faith and science should seek each other and unite, the moral element should prevail in those who are engaged with both. If it is weakened, religion easily produces fanatics, and science unbelievers: a moral torpor, the sleep of conscience is in every age the great and only explanation of these two lamentable errors. As soon as the conscience is awakened, as soon as that holy light is kindled in man, there is no longer any fanaticism or incredulity. Such were Calvin's thoughts. His disciple Vernou endeavoured like himself to unite faith with science in the university of Poitiers, and scattered among the youth who frequented it (as history tells us) the seeds of Christian doctrine. Calvin's three missionaries, Babinot, Véron, and Vernou, were soon famous throughout the west of France, and the wrath of the clergy of all ranks, and even of laymen of note, knew no bounds. The college professors hunted in their Homers for terms of abuse to heap on these heralds of God's word. 'These three worthy apostles,' they said, 'are the agents of the decrees of the arch-heretic Calvin and the firebrands of France.... Look at them ... these are the men that want to reform the world.... Wretched Thersites, miserable Irus, Ithacan beggars ... who set themselves up as the equals of Ajax and Achilles.... They were born yesterday, like gourds, and yet they trace their genealogy, as if they were descended from the apostles!' Ulysses, as we know, killed the beggar Irus with a blow of his fist. These disdainful and bitter critics remembered this, and hoped that the kings of France would give a death-blow to the Reform. They dealt the blow, but protestantism was not slain.