Calvin pictured to himself the magnificent state of his friend, the great splendor, the grand appearance, the mitre, crosier, mantle and ring, and all the rest of the paraphernalia with which he was bedizened; the riches, the pomp displayed in his household, the long train of servants, the dainty table, and a thousand other forms of luxury and superfluity, and exclaimed: 'Now that you have become the favorite of fortune, remember that He who appointed bishops (that is, God) wills that, while the people sleep, they should be in a watch-tower on a hill, casting their eyes on all around them, and that their voice should be like the sound of a trumpet. With what faithfulness do you labor to raise up that which has fallen? True religion is defamed, mocked at, trodden under foot, and even entirely ruined; the poor people are deceived, abused, plundered by a thousand frauds, and led to slaughter ... and all that is done before your eyes! You not only let these things pass, but there is hardly any impiety in your diocese which you do not sanction by your seal! 'What ought to be done with one who, like you, deserts his captain, passes over to the enemy, and damages the camp in whose defence he had sworn to employ his life? 'Blow the trumpet, watchman! Arm thyself, shepherd! Why waitest thou? Of what art thou thinking? Is this a time for sleep? What! a murderer, guilty of shedding blood, every drop of which the Lord will require of thee again! And thou art not afraid?[804] 'O Rome, Rome! how many good people thou corruptest who otherwise were not ill-born? How many among those already corrupted whom thou makest worse daily? How many of those whom thou hast debauched, whom thou plungest into eternal perdition?[805] 'O my dear Roussel, come out of that slough as soon as possible, for fear lest while lingering in it you should sink deeper and deeper into the mire.[806] 'You will say, I know: "What then will become of us poor wretches? Must we, who live at our ease, go into foreign lands, like needy vagabonds? Must we, who always have our pantry and cellar full, without any toil, live upon coarse fare procured by the sweat of our brows and the labor of our hands?"[807] 'If you find such a life strange, you are not a true Christian. It is very hard, I confess, to leave one's birthplace to be a wanderer and a stranger. And yet the Lord, who is a marvellous worker, contrives that this poverty, so bitter in the opinion of men, is made pleasing to them, and that, tempered with a heavenly sweetness, it procures them especial pleasure.'