Reading Calvin in the original languages

Many people plan to read Calvin’s Institutes this year. In what language? In order to get a doctorate, reading knowledge of French is a normal requirement. If one is a student of Greco-Roman antiquity or the history of ideas up to and including the Renaissance, Reformation, and Enlightenment, Latin is by definition a requirement. Serious students, it seems to me, will not stick to Calvin in translation.

If you are able, the Institutes should be read in the languages Calvin wrote them in: Latin and French. His Latin is precise. His French expatiates and sometimes clarifies. Translations in English I know of depend on the Latin. Look what happens when you pay attention to the 1560 French edition. Here is how Book 1, Chapter 1 begins:

Toute la somme presque de nostre sagesse, laquelle, tout conter, merite d'estre reputée vraye et entiere sagesse, est située en deux parties: c'est qu'en cognoissant Dieu, chacun de nous aussi se cognoisse.

Nearly the entire sum of our wisdom which merits to be referred to as true and sound wisdom has two parts: insofar as we know God, each of us also knows himself.

Knowledge of self is made contingent on knowledge of God. Insofar as we know God, each of us also knows himself. To the extent we know God, to the same extent we have knowledge of self.

The 1559 Latin edition does not inter-relate knowledge of God and self in its opening line. If you are familiar with The Institutes via the translation of Allen, Beveridge, or Battles, it is all you will have known – until now:

Tota fere sapientiae nostrae summa, quae vera demum ac solida sapientia censeri debeat, duabus partibus constat, Dei cognitione et nostri.

Nearly all our wisdom which deserves to be considered really true and solid wisdom consists of two parts: knowledge of God and of ourselves.

The differences between the two versions continue. In the following, I make comparisons that may not interest the average reader. At the end of this post, I offer a revised running translation of the opening paragraphs of The Institutes from the French.

Au reste, combien qu'elles soyent unies l'une l'autre par beaucoup de liens, si n'est-il pas toutesfois aisé discerner laquelle va devant et produit l'autre.

For the rest, insofar as they form a unity with one another through a host of links, it is not always easy to discern which prepares for and produces the other.

Caeterum, quum multis inter se vinculis connexae sitit, utra tamen alteram praecedat, et ex se pariat, non facile est discernere.

To be sure, because they are interconnected by multiple links, it is not easy to discern which of the two precedes the other, and gives birth from itself.

The Latin lacks an explicit note to the effect that the two sides of the epistemological coin “form a unity with one another.” On the other hand, the Latin uses a precise expression – “give birth from itself” (“from itself” is ignored in all English translations to date) – that is lacking in the French.

In the continuation, the Latin makes use of a famous phrase from Acts 17:28 whereas the French does not. The Latin is more precise in the case of convertat vs. tourne and uno Deo vs. Dieu, whereas French contempler might seem to be more precise than aspicere. In other instances the Latin and French diverge considerably. I cite the Latin first.

Nam primo se nemo aspicere potest quin ad Dei, in quo vivit et movetur, intuitum sensus suos protinus convertat: quia minime obscurum est dotes quibus pollemus nequaquam a nobis esse, imo ne id quidem ipsum quod sumus, aliud esse quam in uno Deo subsistentiam.

In the first place, no one can look at himself without immediately redirecting his attention in consideration of God in whom he lives and moves. It is not the least bit unclear that the gifts by which we prevail are not of our own making in the least. Indeed, precisely that which we are is nothing except insofar as we subsist in the one God.

Car en premier lieu, nul ne se peut contempler, qu'incontinent il ne tourne ses sens au regard de Dieu, auquel il vit et a sa vigueur: pource qu'il n'est pas obscur que les dons ou gist toute nostre dignité ne sont nullement de nous: mesmes que noz forces et fermeté ne sont autre chose que de subsister et estre appuyez en Dieu.

In the first place, no one can contemplate himself without immediately turning his attention in consideration of God in whom he lives and has his strength. It is not at all unclear that the gifts in which our entire value lies are not from ourselves. Our selfsame capabilities and steadiness are nothing except insofar as we subsist in and are supported by God.

Deinde ab his bonis quae guttatim e coelo ad nos stillant, tanquam a rivulis ad fontem deducimur.

Thus these benefits distilled to us from heaven in drops are like rivulets by which we are led to the source.

Davantage, par les biens qui distillent du ciel sur nous goutte à goutte, nous sommes conduits comme par petits ruisseaux a la fontaine.

Thus these benefits distilled on us from heaven drop by drop are like tiny rivulets by which we are led to the source.

Iam vero ex nostra tenuitate melius apparet illa, quae in Deo residet bonorum infinitas.

Indeed, it is by our poverty that the infinity of benefits which reside in God becomes all the more apparent.

Pareillement de ceste petite et maigro portion, l'infinité de tous biens qui reside en Dieu apparoist tant mieux:

Again, compared to this tiny, meager portion, the infinity of all the benefits which reside in God appears that much more clearly:

Praesertim miserabilis haec ruina, in quam nos deiecit primi hominis defectio, sursum oculos cogit attollere, non modo ut inde ieiuni et famelici petamus quod nobis deest, sed metu expergefacti humilitatem discamus.

In particular, the miserable ruin into which we have been thrown by the defection of the first man compels us to raise our eyes on high, not only so that, hungry and famished, we seek there what we lack, but so that, roused from our slumber by fear, we learn humility.

singulierement ceste mal-heureuse ruine en laquelle nous sommes trebuschez par la revolte du premier homme, nous contraint de lever les yeux en haut, non seulement pour desirer de la les biens qui nous defaillent, comme povres gens vuides et affamez, mais aussi pour estre esveillez de crainte, et par ce moyen apprendre que c'est d'humilité.

In particular this unhappy ruin in which we are ensnared as a result of the revolt of the first man constrains us to lift our eyes on high, not only to desire from there the benefits we lack, poor, empty, and famished people that we are, but also to be roused by fear, and by said means to learn what humility is.

Additional Notes

In offline correspondence, Suzanne McCarthy suggests the following translation from the French: “As to the rest, inasmuch as they are united, one another, by many links, it is not always easy to discern which one goes ahead and produces the other.” That is more literal, but also more stilted, than the translation I offer. “Go ahead (of)” I take in the sense of “prepare.” She notes that in the parallel Latin text, the verb pario (from which we get the expression “postpartum”) probably has a washed-out sense of “produce” in this context. I concur. It’s just that the translation “give birth” also has a washed-out sense of “produce” in context. Hence my retention of vehicle and tenor.

Suzanne suggests adding a comma after “Pareillement.” If this is done, the French more closely approximates the Latin. But the comma is missing in Bierma’s cut-and-paste of the French on which I depend. She further suggests that I translate the three occurrences of “biens” (the Latin lacks an equivalent in one instance) by a single English equivalent, which I have now done (below, I chose “good things” rather than “benefits”: each gloss has plusses and minuses). The changes are highlighted in grey.

In two posts, Suzanne discusses matters further. I don’t agree with her about translating pario. The verb’s core sense: “bear / give birth to (a child).” By extension, it is used with other objects. In such cases, it is often translated “produce,” a good short-hand gloss, but in the process the specific flavor of the verb is lost. In the same way, birthing language is used in the Hebrew Bible with God as subject, but in translation the “flowery metaphor” is often put to one side. Where possible, a metaphor-for-metaphor translation is preferable. The difference between Calvin’s Latin and French is real in this instance, though not as stark, admittedly, as it probably sounds to Anglo-Saxon ears.

Suzanne could be right that:

Pareillement de ceste petite et maigro portion, l'infinité de tous biens qui reside en Dieu apparoist tant mieux:

should be read as if it were punctuated otherwise:

Pareillement, de ceste petite et maigro portion l'infinité de tous biens qui reside en Dieu apparoist tant mieux:

In that case, the French in this locus would more closely approximate the Latin. I have adjusted my translation accordingly (highlighted in grey).

Suzanne goes on to state the following:

Calvin composed theology in Latin, translated it into French and then it was translated into English.

The facts, however, belie this claim. As I have shown in this post, the Latin and French versions of the Institutes go their separate ways in details large and small. The Latin and French parallel each other but the French is more than a translation of the Latin. Nathan Bierma says it well:

Calvin's vision was to have one version of the Institutes (in Latin) to speak to scholars and another (in French) to speak to non-scholars . . . his French version is considered a rhetorical masterpiece and a great leap forward for French as a literary language. Both of these realities are obscured today: only scholars read Calvin now, and the only English translations available—even many recent abridgements—tend to be dense and drab.

I concur with Nathan’s judgment, though I would point out that Calvin’s theological French is very high register. It is not a dumbed down version of the Latin. Calvin expected those who could not read Latin to read an equally scintillating theological dialectic in French. Here is an attempt by Nathan to provide a contemporary translation of a portion of the Institutes.

Calvin’s Institutes translated from the French: A Trial Cut

Nearly the entire sum of our wisdom which merits the name of true and sound wisdom has two parts: (1) knowledge of God, by which each of us also has (2) knowledge of self.

To be sure, since they form a unity with one another through a host of links, it is not always easy to determine which form of knowledge prepares for and produces the other.

First of all, no one can contemplate self without immediately turning and considering God in whom he lives and has his strength. It is hardly less than clear that the gifts in which our entire value lies are not self-derived. Our capabilities and balance are nothing except insofar as we subsist in and are supported by God. In consequence these good things distilled on us from heaven drop by drop like tiny rivulets lead us to the source.

At the very same time, compared to that tiny, thin gruel, the infinity of all the good things which reside in God is all the more striking. In particular, the unhappy ruin in which we are ensnared as a result of the revolt of the first man constrains us to lift our eyes on high, not only to desire from there the good things we lack, poor, empty, and famished people that we are, but also to be roused from slumber by fright. By these means we learn what humility is.

Nathan Bierma would like to see the Institutes translated into fluent, contemporary English. Presumably he has no desire to see the complexity of Calvin’s diction and argumentation dumbed down. For more translations of the above text, see his interlinear here. 

UPDATE: Justin Taylor of Reformation21 provides a succint guide to English translations of the Institutes, and links to this series of posts for the Latin and the French.  

For Further Study

B. B. Warfield, “On the Literary History of Calvin’s Institutes.” Presbyterian and Reformed Review 10 (1899): 193–219. Also published in editions of the Allen translation of the Institutes since 1936. Warfield summarizes the development of the Institutes in Latin and French from 1536 to 1560 and the history of editions and translations in English.

Comments

[Duane]

John,

Interesting post. Makes one wonder about the urtext :-). There is a rather famous NT scholar who speaks English with a rather pronounced southern accent but drafts his papers in German. Or at least he once did. Depending on the publication or the audience, he translates them into his native English. He thought German was better adapted to clear thinking. I know there are historical reasons why Calvin wrote in Latin but I wonder if he had similar thoughts regarding Latin and French.

[JohnFH]

Duane,

There are two original texts here. Just as continues to happen in English translation of the Bible, translators in the past used the Latin as their point of departure but allowed the French to influence their translation choices according to taste.

In both Bible and Calvin translation, from a scientific point of view I prefer a more rigorous technique.

From a liturgical point of view, I am happy to have a translation of the Hebrew / Aramaic / Greek text read out that is "contaminated" to some degree by by the text's history of reception within the Masoretic tradition and/or in the history of translation (LXX; Vulgate; KJV). "Valley of the shadow of death" in Psalm 23 is a case in point.

[Jean-Sebastien Hubert]

Hi, I am a french reader of your blog residing in New York and currently reading L'institution Chretienne Editions Kerygma-Editions Farel 1978.
If you have some questions on French translations, I will be happy to help you.
Jean-Sebastien

[JohnFH]

Jean-Sebastien,

You are so kind. Does the edition you are using modernize the French?

[N. T. Wrong]

For works such as the Sermons on Job (some 159 in 14 months, from memory), I can't even locate a modern English translation. There's something you might enjoy doing in your spare time...

[JohnFH]

How capable Calvin was of producing printable prose spontaneously boggles the mind.

Friends on the continent tell me that currently, Eberhard Juengel falls into this category. Anything he says extemporaneously or otherwise is fit to print without correction.

[Jean-Sebastien Hubert]

It is a version where there is some old french with some translation footnote in regular french.
For example, for pareillement with the comma, I don't think that it is accurate, Why : Because when you put a comma, the first part of the sentence "de ceste petite et maigro portion" is link to the second part of the sentence "l'infinité de tous biens qui reside en Dieu apparoist tant mieux:".
But the sentence without the comma refer the part of the little portion with the precedent sentence "les biens que distillent goutte a goutte,.....comme par petits ruisseaux a la fontaine"

Regards
Js

[JohnFH]

Js,

I think I understand what you are getting at, but perhaps not. If you have an alternative translation to propose, that would be helpful.