The conversation now turned upon Geneva, from whence Hamelin had recently come. He was one of those agents who, at the instigation of Calvin, travelled through the length and breadth of France, spreading the Reformed tenets, sometimes reading the Scriptures and pious books—sometimes preaching the word and exhorting, and above all, providing for the establishment of a gospel ministry; everywhere taking occasion to search out pastors to undertake the charge of those small and despised flocks that were scattered about in the hamlets and towns. The marvellous energy of the great Reformer was unceasingly at work in various ways. He encouraged many French refugees to become booksellers or printers; he formed numerous schools for the training of his disciples; and Geneva, under his auspices, became the metropolis of the Reformed religion; the centre of a vast propagandist system, and one of the most famous schools of learning and theology. It is almost impossible to conceive how he could support the immense labours of his latter years. He preached almost every day; gave three theological lessons in the week; assisted at all the consistorial deliberations, and all the assemblies of the clergy, and was the soul of their counsels. He carried on, besides, an immense correspondence throughout Europe, and published, every year, some work on theology or controversy. With all these labours and many others, he was, nevertheless, of a feeble constitution, and all his life long suffered under various maladies. Hamelin gave the following graphic description of his personal appearance at this period: “He resembles an old hermit, emaciated by long vigils and fasting; his cheeks are sunken, his forehead furrowed, his face colourless as that of a corpse, but his brilliant eyes glow with an unearthly fire. His figure is slightly bowed, the bones seem bursting through the skin, but his step is steady, and his tread firm.”